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#i used to wash bees
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i think if i reread mangoball that would fix me i think.
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hyah-lian · 2 years
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I was thinking abt the links..... and I love the cute content with everyone fretting over wild and their hair being an untamed unbrushed mess
But HYRULE. The curly wavy hair???? U can't brush that shit without it looking wonky in my experience (with untextured hair, but natural curls and waves) And he is just as run-around-adventure-chaos imo as wild
Just I think hyrule gets more of a pass bc its harder to tell. And if he doesn't brush it or touch it/mess with it too much it stays curly. And, again depending on the hair type and all that, some folks with curly hair can just wet their hair to reset curls while other ppl maybe need to do more etc.
Idk I'm having A Phase and I love the two wild untamed chaos traveling adventure duo and them being stinkey and antics around like. Social standards or whatever.
And also the idea of like. Someone being stern saying smth like OK lads we need to be showered brushed and polished today. And wild is forcefully getting his hair brushed and hyrule disappeared for a while and just comes back with like a poofed out mushroom haircut lookin thing and a hairbrush that looks like a small animal bc of all the hair he yoinked out
because he was like. Well I got told to brush it so I did? Cue confusion and someone realizing the lil shit(affectionate) hasn't ever brushed his hair and wild being like HA SEE ITS FINE wait. HYRULE. WHAT. And someone else is freaking 9ut bc hyrule YOU DONT LOOK LIKE YOU
And he's just like. Oh. I can fix that? And just dunks his head and it air dries into almost normal hyrule hair.
Anyway.
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arosebyan0thername · 10 months
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My cat has puked a couple times in the last week or two and just once was he ate a leaf or something but when he does it multiple times it's usually either he's dehydrated or constipated or eventually both, so please send whatever mystical good luck elves you have at your disposal to keep him from getting emergency room levels of sick in the next like 16 days until the two of us arrive home in vegas
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rslashrats · 2 months
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🪰 housefly734 Follow
just a reminder that flies rubbing their hands together =/= plotting a nasty scheme
🪰 r0tt1ngm3at Follow
FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT!! I HATE THE STEREOTYPE THAT US RUBBING OUR HANDS TOGETHER MEANS WE ARE PLANNING SOMETHING DUBIOUS!!
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
^^ Boosting! I constantly get non-flies giving me death glares whenever I wash my hands in the restroom. Like, that's what you're supposed to do after going to the bathroom! Sorry for being hygienic I guess 🙄
🪰 diptera-doll Follow
Reasons why flies might be rubbing their hands together:
It's chilly out and they're trying to warm up
They just put hand sanitizer/lotion/hand cream on
They're rolling a ball of clay together
What you should do if you see a fly rubbing their hands together:
Leave them alone! It's none of your business
Hope this helped! :)
🪰 flyhlghh Follow
people also forget that hand-rubbing is a very common stim!! neurodivergent flies constantly get stigmatized for showing any traits of their neurodivergencies in public!! please don't forget that!!
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I dont know about you losers but i like to rub my hands together because i am planning the most heinous and villanous crimes in my head
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Wow, most obvious troll I have ever seen in my life. Get a life, dude 🙄
🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow
> claims to be a real fly
> has bee as their profile pic
dude couldn even get the right insect for their shitty troll account LMFAOOOOO
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
No i am real fly and i am plotting to land on someones pie rn and ruin it with all my real fly germs. rubbing my hands together as i do it too
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Anyone wanna bet this guy is some amphibian from 4frog typing this nonsense from their lilypad right now? Just me? Okay-
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am buzzing around people's ears now
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Yep, that pretty much confirms my theory. The nerve of some non-flies, I swear 🙄
🪰 batsianmimc Follow
@venus-fly-trap-hater
🪰 venus-fly-trap-hater Follow
this post is so real!! tysm babe for sending it to me 💞 ilyy
🪰 batsianmimc Follow
ILY too sugar cube 😘
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
Can you guys stop kissing on this post its ruining my evil scheme planning
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Can't believe this guy is still at it, honestly. @staff @tumblr Please take action against fake fly troll accounts such as these ones!
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
Staff cant kill me i rubbed my hands on them too hard and they dieded sorry
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
🤣🤣🤣 Oh the excuses this fake is making, LOL! I haven't been this entertained since the Bombylius major discourse last year!
🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow
why are you still arguing with the troll instead of just blocking
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Just think it's entertaining to see the lack of logic that bounces around in the brains of these non-flies sometimes 🤷‍♀️ Every response this so called "I am a real fly, trust me" user has given me has just made me crack up and flap my wings together.
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am gonna rub my hands and plan more evil schemes involving you next
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Heh, just try it, kid. Go on, I'll wait. 🥱
🦗 chirpingboy Follow
things are getting heated in the fly community
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Of course a Grasshopper has the nerve to comment something insensitive on this post. Honestly, just mind your business 🙄
🦗 chirpingboy Follow
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okayy
🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow
Hey, you can't really preach for not discriminating against flies and then discriminate against a grasshopper, dude. Not cool.
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
I think I certainty can, with my past experiences of Grasshoppers always finding the ways to say the most uneducated and baseless takes on my previous posts and discussions. Plus, after the Fly-Grasshopper War of 247 BC (in which my ancestors fought in, mind you) and the consequences that followed it, I think I am well within my rights. But go ahead, frame me as the bad guy here. 🤣
🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow
Yeah, you say this and conveniently ignore the socio-economic struggles that grasshoppers have been facing for the past century, many of these issues which were spearheaded by fly conservative politicians in office at the time.
So, yeah, it is rather hypocritical for you to pull out these cards when grasshoppers have also been punished and gotten the short end of the stick throughout bug history.
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
The implication that all flies are responsible for a few greedy politicians is quite comical, really. 🥱 Not to mention that many Grasshopper politicians in Bugland and Bugtopia have also had histories of introducing laws that have severely affected communities majorly made up of Flies. But sure, keep arguing with me about this, buddy. I got all day 🤣
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am still rubbing my hands and planing schemes btw
🪰 flythatlovestogethigh Follow
anyone smoke bug weed in this thread
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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months
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regina’s puppy (1)
// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //
warnings: mean!regina (not to reader), protective!regina, oblivious/innocent!reader, pinning, mutual pining but reader thinks it’s one-sided, use of “y/n”.
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regina george definitely has a soft spot for you. if you ask her, she’d refer to it as a weak spot; resembling more like an invisible bruise inside of her that only you could see. you’d push and push it, til it bruises some more. until she’d sickly do just about anything you ask. it wasn’t a secret either; regina could be in the middle of being the worst human being on campus, and you’d just walk up to her with those big eyes of yours.
“hey gina!”
“did you see the new shake flavor at sonic? wanna ditch and go?”
“i stayed up all night reading the bell jar!”
regina would shift her undivided attention onto you within a millisecond, and you didn’t even realize it. you were so obliviously innocent. you didn’t have an underlying reason for getting close to the queen bee, you just caught her reading a book one day and started talking her ear off about it. the blonde, who got pure joy out of making girls like you cry, for some reason didn’t have it in her to tell you to fuck off or call you a dork. there was something about you that regina couldn’t quite place; it was something that made her heart flutter in her chest.
maybe it didn’t fully hit regina just how bad she had it for you until junior year. it was the middle of fall, and you had rushed up to her with a pair of sad eyes. “hey gina.” you greet her, but it isn’t your usual eager greeting. regina looks away from the mirror in her locker, looking at you. her brows furrow and a wave of concern washed over her, as she realizes you appear upset. “what’s wrong?” she demands, not even bothering to say hi back. “stacy matthew’s said i can’t be in debate club. she says i’m really nice and that’s not what they’re looking for.” you admit, and regina can feel the rage course through her before she slams her locker shut.
“where the fuck does stacy matthew’s get off telling you that you can or can’t be in debate club? she’s a fucking dork. come on.” she grabs your wrist and your eyes widen, shaking your head in protest but the blonde is already set on giving the raven haired girl a piece of her mind. nobody was going to make you sad and get away with it. “gina it’s okay i—“ you try but regina is already turning down the hallway, making her way up to a random group of students. they all go quiet as soon as regina is near. “where’s matthew’s?” regina questions demandingly, causing one of the students to nearly begin to tremble.
“st-stacy? she’s in the library i think—“ regina doesn’t even let the poor girl finish before she’s dragging you in the direction of the library. you weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you told regina about why you got rejected from the debate club, but this certainly wasn’t it. you weren’t expecting her to storm into the library. “everyone out.” she commands, and just like that, every student in the library is scurrying out. “not you.” the blonde hisses as she glowers at stacy who was in the middle of gathering her belongings. you watch the girl tense up, freezing, and a part of you feels guilty because of how terrified she looks.
“so it’s come to my attention that you think your dorky little debate club is too good for y/n…” regina trails off, and stacy’s eyes widen as her gaze flutters over to you. “don’t look at her for help, look at me.” regina snaps her fingers in stacy’s face; her behavior should cause you to be horrified, yet you can’t deny the heat at the bottom of your belly that comes from watching regina defend you. “it’s not— i didn’t say we were too good, i said she was too nice, regina. you know it too, that’s why you’re here debating for her.” stacy’s comment causes you to look down at your shoes, knowing she isn’t wrong.
“y/n is smarter than you will ever be. her gpa is higher than yours, and she had better exam grades last year. she doesn’t need to be a cunt to debate, she just has to be right… and she always is. you didn’t deny her a spot in your club because she’s too nice. you’re afraid she’s better than you.” regina hits her right where it hurts, and the way stacy’s face morphs into an ugly angry expression causes your eyes to widen. you had actually believed stacy when she said you were too nice for debate club, but now as you watch her react to regina’s accusations, you realize she only said that because she didn’t want you in the club at all.
“i’ll give you the rest of tonight to reconsider giving her a spot on the debate team. if you don’t, i have no control over whether or not the club gets banned… i mean, considering my parents are the ones who fund it.” regina puts on her best falsified sorry expression, and it causes stacy’s eyes to widen at the threat. her eyes lock with yours before regina clasps a hand around your wrist. she drags you out of the library, muttering angrily as she does so. “ugh, the nerve of that fucking bitch.” regina sounds genuinely upset, and you frown.
“you didn’t have to do that…” you whisper, barley being able to find your voice. she comes to a stop, turning around to face you with a deadly serious expression etched onto her features. “i did because you would’ve just let it go. she can’t just act like the queen of debate club; even the cheerleaders started being inclusive!” regina rambles a bit, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling. “yeah but i’m pretty sure debate club is all stacy matthew’s has. it’s fine. i mean, it’s not fine, but it’s clearly more important to her.” you shrug easily and regina huffs in clear frustration.
“that’s exactly why people think you’re too nice! you can’t just let people do or say whatever they want to you, and just let it go! just twelve minutes ago you wanted to cry about it.” regina points out, and you press your lips together. “if i held on to it every time someone upset me, i’d be a really sad person.” you confess lightly, but this does nothing to ease regina’s anger. “well, i’ll hold on to it for you. she’s going in the burn book.” regina mutters the last part, making you a quirk a brow at her. “the burn book?” you question, and she purses her lips tightly, realizing she might have said to much.
“it’s just this thing the girls and i have been working on…” regina’s demeanor shifts, and your brows knit together. “you and the girls? as in gretchen and karen? can i see?” you ask hopefully, and regina shakes her head quickly “no way.” she answers, and as soon as she sees you deflate, a look of disappointment taking over your features, she relents. “it’s not finished yet, and it’s kind of a secret…” she trails off, “i promise i won’t tell anyone! at all! not even riley.” you promise, mentioning your best friend who’s being home schooled this year. regina chews on her bottom lip; she’s well aware the burn book is just a harsh joke her and her friends came up with. but she isn’t sure whether you’d think it’s funny or not.
though regina can’t seem to be able to tell you no. “okay, but most of it was gretchen.” she lies as she begins to lead you towards the exit of the school. karen and gretchen furrow their eyebrows in clear confusion as they watch their best friend leave with you. even though school ended almost half an hour ago, usually regina would opt to hang out with the plastics. sometimes she even just stayed after school to “ogle” the football team during practice. but here regina was, leaving school with you. sure, her friends knew about her weird tolerance of you… but now you were hanging out?
“wait are we going to your house?” you ask uncertainly as you both approach her expensive car. she flashes you a look that says “duh”, “that’s where the book is.” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “shouldn’t you call your mom and ask her for permission for me to come over?” you inquire timidly, and although the butterflies in her stomach flutter due to how adorable you are, she rolls her eyes feigning annoyance. “she doesn’t care. get in, loser.” she commands, and you immediately obey; getting into the passenger side.
regina’s car smells like her perfume, and the backseat is messy. “your moms so cool for letting you drive by yourself with just your permit.” you say out loud and regina shrugs, “she’s alright.” she mutters as she hands you her phone. “pick a song.” she insists and your cheeks flush. “o-okay.” the way you stutter causes you to mentally facepalm, but regina finds it hard to stifle a smile at how cute she finds you. you put on a taylor swift song, and she snorts, “so cliche.” she says, her eyes unusually soft, as the sky and your heart does this pathetic little lurch at the sight of her smiling. regina looks so beautiful when she smiles; it almost makes you forget how she almost made stacy matthew’s piss herself a little while ago.
regina’s house is even bigger than you imagined. you knew her family was rich, but you didn’t think they were this wealthy. your eyes are as big as dinner plates as you look around the house. as soon as you walk in you can hear regina’s little sister in the living room; practicing dance routines in front of the tv. “ignore her that’s my sister kylie. everything she does, i did it first.” regina retorts simply, and you raise your brows as you follow her through her house. “hi honey! i made lunch— oh, who’s this?” a woman who you assume is regina’s mom comes out of the kitchen.
she’s wearing tight leggings and a top that barely covers anything. regina grimaces at the sight of her mom, “this is my friend, y/n. we’re gonna be upstairs for awhile. don’t bother us.” she warns harshly, and you offer the older woman a bashful smile. “it’s nice to meet you, mrs. george.” you let out before regina pulls you up the stairs, and towards her room. “your mom seems… nice.” you say as nicely as you can, and she scoffs. “she’s totally embarrassing. she lives vicariously through me.” she deadpans as you both walk into her bedroom.
her room is exactly how you imagined it. it’s pink and girly; there are various posters of celebrities on the walls. her bed was huge. “your room is so cool!” you exclaim, and she tries to fight the grin tugging at her lips. “it’s okay. i’ve been meaning to redecorate it, but i’m gonna make gretchen do it.” regina snickers and you giggle. “that’s mean.” you halfheartedly respond, and she tenses up. she wonders if you’ll laugh that way when you see the burn book. even though you aren’t in it, she isn’t sure if anyone you know is.
“so where’s the book?” you ask curiously as you take a seat on the corner of her bed. regina’s smile falls as she keeps her back to you, she reluctantly disappears into her closet, only to reappear with a big pink book in her hands. your eyes light up as she makes her way over to you, and sits by you. “you have to promise you won’t leave after reading this.” she states stringently, making you pause. you look at her in confusion, “it’s just… this book is like a fucked up version of the year book. we make fun of all the girls from school in it.” she admits hesitantly, and your face falls.
“am… am i in it?” you quietly ask, and regina shakes her head rapidly. “no! no, you’re not.” she promises and you nod. “okay, so why would i get mad?” you question, and regina sighs as she opens the book. you begin to read all of the cruel things her and her friends write about other girls. when you get to the part where regina makes fun of becky martin for getting a bob freshman year, you involuntarily giggle. suddenly there’s this lightbulb that lights up above her head.
“y/n, you should sit with me at lunch tomorrow.” she says, and you tense up, prying your eyes away from the burn book to look at regina. “you mean with you and the plastics?” you ask uncertainly, and regina rolls her eyes. “why does everyone call them that?” she mutters, and you shake your head. “because you’re all perfect like plastic barbie dolls.” you answer simply, and this causes the blonde to quirk her eyebrows to her hairline. “you think gretchen and karen are perfect?” she asks with a scoff, and you nod quickly. “duh! you’re all so… pretty. everyone knows girls like me don’t sit at the “it” table.” you half joke, and regina rolls her eyes.
“i decide who sits at that table, and i’m deciding you’re sitting there with us from now on.” regina stringently states, her tone indicates she’s up for no debates. “we’ll start by giving you a makeover.” she declares, as she gets up. “come on, we’re going to the mall.” she adds, and you throw her an “are you serious” sort of look. “gina… i really don’t think that’s a good idea.” you try, but she pulls you off the bed, and onto your feet. “i’m already picturing how cute you’d look in bellbottoms.” she says, as she drags you out of her bedroom, the burn book long forgotten.
“i can’t buy bellbottoms! they’re like forty bucks a pair!” you stress, as regina leads you down the stairs, never once letting go of your hand. “i have my dads card, relax.” she assures you easily, and you frown, but don’t protest. you know better than to try and argue with regina, especially when you’d let her get away with anything and you think she knows it.
regina ends up spending over four hundred dollars on you, much to your dismay. no matter how much you protest, or try to secretly put items back, she was hellbent on giving you a makeover. thankfully regina claimed you had flawless features that didn’t need makeup, so you avoided the makeup stores altogether. when regina drops you off at your house, you have a hand full of shopping bags and you have to rush to your room in secrecy. fortunately your brothers are too transfixed with some horror video game, and your older sister was nowhere to be seen.
as soon as you’re in the privacy of your bedroom, you let out a little breath. today was the strangest day ever. you were used to your strange friendship with regina, but it was usually only a few meaningful conversations here and there. regina george was never full on “queen bee” around you for some reason, but she had never defended you like she did today. a part of you felt bad about telling regina what stacy did, but the way the blonde threatened the debate teams captain for you made your heart flutter.
tomorrow you were having lunch with regina and “the plastics”; you had to pick an outfit before you went to sleep which was out of the ordinary for you. you’ve never been the type to get ready for school, but there’s this insistent need to impress regina that you suddenly have. the way she ogled you when you had tried on the out of character outfits made your stomach tingle. the nerves in your body only increase as you think about it. as you stare at the various shopping bags, you know there’s no going back now; you feel indebted to regina george.
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adnormal · 1 year
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Cleaning stuff is so relaxing. im just here making everything tidy whilst listening to music i love.
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awritesthings1 · 4 months
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Gone with the Leaves
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Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader
Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.
ao3 link
A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)
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“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”
You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.
Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”
This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.
You made sure you looked the other way.
“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.
Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?
“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”
Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.
Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.
“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.
There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.
Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.
He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”
Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?
Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.
No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.
You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.
The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.
Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.
“Eh?” Came his gruff response.
Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.
-
The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.
Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.
He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.
Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.
“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.
Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.
Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.
“Then what are you, eh?”
A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.
A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”
He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.
Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.
Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.
You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.
“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”
-
The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.
“What’s this?” You asked.
“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.
You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.
“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.
“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.
“Hm, I didn’t notice.”
“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”
Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”
Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.
“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.
“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.
Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.
“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.
Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.
“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.
You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.
It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.
“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.
She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?
You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.
“It’s perfect!”
“How many carats?”
“My Mary would be so jealous!”
After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.
Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”
She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.
“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.
You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.
Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.
Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.
Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.
“Fuck!” Catherine spat.
(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)
“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.
-
Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.
“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”
No, you didn’t know.
“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.
You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.
What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.
-
The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.
When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.
Tommy had to be beside himself.
A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.
He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.
“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.
Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.
“No.”
George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”
Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.
“We’re going.”
You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.
At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.
“What the fuck happened?”
He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.
“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”
His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.
“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”
He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.
“I thought…” He broke off.
His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.
“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.
“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.
Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.
Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.
“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”
“From now on—”
“Thomas—”
“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”
‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.
Was he?
“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.
You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.
“You have me.”
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moralesluvr · 10 months
Note
omg can i request one where you do the lipstick trend on tiktok with hobie?? i’m not rlly good at explaining things 😭 btw i love ur writing ❤️‍🔥
the lipstick challenge ft. hobie brown
♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x fem!black!reader ♡ summary: you do the lipstick trend from tiktok with your boyfriend! ♡ warnings: kissin', hobie acting a fool, him being a cutie ♡ a/n: thank you for your request! and tysm!! this was so cuteeee ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡
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"I'M NOT DOING THAT."
That was one of the first things that came out of Hobie's mouth when you begged him to do this challenge with you-- you even added a 'pretty please' on top and he still refused. You grabbed his hand as he walked away, trying to yank him back to you, "Please, baby? I don't see any harm in doin' it!"
Hobie gives you vex groan, walking to the kitchen to find something to drink. You skip behind him-- you really weren't taking no for an answer. Compromise could be given, of course-- you didn't even have to post it!
You stand behind your boyfriend as he scans the refrigerator to look for something to drink. You're so quiet that he nearly forgets you're there, and when he takes out a bottle of water and turns around, he almost jumps when he sees you. His face immediately hardens, "I literally just about laid a brick on myself, love, why are you jus' followin' so close behind me like that?"
"Because," you drag, pulling at his arms, "I want you to do the TikTok with me! C'mon, Bee, I don't even have to post it. It'll be so cute. Do it for your girlfriend, please?"
With the way that you're looking up at him with those sweet brown eyes, it's hard for him to even deny the fact that he feels bad for telling you no. He throws his head back for a second before saying, "Fine, but you cannot post it no matter what."
You squeal at him, grabbing his hand firmly and dragging him back to his bedroom, though it was practically shared between the two of you because of how much you're always at his place or in his bed. You grab one of your makeup bags and your phone as Hobie takes a spot on his comforter, wondering if he made the right decision to let you do this.
"Okay, so here's how this is gonna go," you grin, plopping next to him excitedly. You take out a red lipstick, "I'm gonna put this on my lips, and then I'm gonna kiss you on your face so that it leaves stains. And then I'll put it on and mess up on purpose, and then--"
"I'm not gonna lie," Hobie says, leaning back to rest on his arms, "I'm just a tad bit lost, love, so you're gonna kiss me first?"
"Let's just do one step at a time." You suggest, opening the TikTok app on your phone and setting it up on the dresser, ready to hit record. You then grab your lipstick and use the camera as your mirror, the silky red substance glossing your lips over flawlessly. You turn to Hobie, who nods, "Gorgeous."
"Mhm, now c'mere and let me kiss you."
You leaned closer to your boyfriend and grabbed his face, pressing a fat kiss directly on to his cheek. You hear him groan, but the way his lips are stretched ear to ear makes you think that he's not really disliking it as much as he portrays.
You give him a few more kisses before smiling at him, "Ready?"
He nods, and you quickly tell Hobie what he's supposed to do before grabbing your phone and starting the video. You slide the lipstick across your bottom lip, and then down your chin a little, frowning before you feel your boyfriend's ringed thumb wipe it away. You then pan the camera towards him, and he's smiling big, looking at you with loving eyes. You geek once the video ends, "That was so cute!"
You watch it a couple times over before settling on the fact that's it's honestly the best you're gonna get. Hobie stands to his feet, walking over to the door before pausing, "'M gonna go wash this off, I'll be back. And oh, do not post that!"
Shooing him off, you watch Hobie leave before you give a devilish smirk to your phone, staring at your new incoming notification.
gwenstacy & miles_morales4 have liked your video.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!
𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee
𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🎸: @lipstickstainedshells // @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10
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notroosterbradshaw · 5 months
Text
about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.
word count: 3.2k
warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.
masterlist.
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The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised. 
Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand... 
You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening. 
Ahh, sisters. 
Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock. 
“What time is it?” You asked softly.
“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”
Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before. 
He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly. 
“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.
“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.” 
“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours." 
“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”
“You sure?”
“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”
“It’s Christmas. People travel.”
“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.
You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today." 
"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?
"I think you'll be fine."
"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”
You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."
"I would believe that," he said softly. 
"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.
"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.
"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy." 
"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."
You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time. 
“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…” 
“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole. 
"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”
“Confident of you, don’t you think?”
“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”
“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”
He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world. 
"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.” 
“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled. 
“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times. 
The one per cent, he’s told you once before. 
You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.
“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."
“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable). 
“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again. 
These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.
"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound." 
That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him. 
Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious. 
He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.
He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.” 
You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”
“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.” 
“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him. 
“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”
"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it. 
Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip. 
“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”
Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?” 
You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.” 
Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."
"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time. 
"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.  
"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging. 
Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.
It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start. 
But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up. 
Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.
"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were. 
"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”
Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come. 
“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”
“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts. 
He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.
“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.
“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.
“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow. 
“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”
“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.
“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him. 
“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it. 
A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.
“You want eggs?”
“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”
“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too. 
Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no. 
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yangfleurs · 1 year
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midnight mistakes.
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summary: in which you accidentally delete something on chan’s laptop and he does not take it well.
genre: ANGST
———————————————————————
your favorite part of the week was sunday evening. your boyfriend was going to pick up dinner, you had just gotten out of the shower freshly waxed and washed, and now you were lounging around in chan’s hoodie on the living room searching for something for you to watch while you waited for chan to come home.
you mindlessly scrolled through netflix in a daze until you heard your phone ping. you grabbed it off of the coffee table and immediately, your heart sank. it was a notification informing you your final paper was due at 9 p.m.—10 minutes from now. you knew you definitely finished it, but you must've forgotten to turn it in. you sprung off of the couch and ran into your bedroom, rummaging through your backpack to find your laptop. you found it easily—turning it on, however? the ancient relic you called a laptop was definitely dead, and you didn’t have the time to wait around, especially since you still had to make edits before turning it in. you groaned in frustration, chucking the laptop back into your bag before shooting up and making a bee line for chan’s laptop. surely your angel of a boyfriend would understand, right?
chan’s laptop whirred and turned on in no time. you quickly typed in his password and held your breath as it unlocked. you ignored the tabs chan had open and immediately went to work, logging in and editing at lightning speed. your fingers cramped and hurt but you paid it no mind, continuing to rapidly proofread your work before finally turning it, just a minute before time was over. you were proud of yourself, patting yourself on the back for being able to make a deadline with only a ten-minute notice.
breathing out and stretching your back, you groaned and crossed out the window, only realizing after the fact that you had closed the tabs chan had had opened. you gulped nervously, hoping you didn't close anything important. chan wasn't the type to leave anything unsaved open anyways. you convince yourself to feel secure in the excuse, ignoring your anxiety and wandering back to the living room couch. you resumed your mindless netflix scrolling, settling on a show chan had recommended you caught up on so you could watch it together. you turned the show on and got comfy, knowing you had hours of binging ahead of you until chan got home.
but before that, you found yourself knocked out on the sofa some time between the third and fourth episode you managed to watch. you yawned, being woken up abruptly by the beeping sound of someone entering the door code. you lazily pushed the hair out of your face and got up to meet your boyfriend at the door.
he smiled tiredly as you appeared in front of him, opening his arms to invite you to a warm hug. you stumbled into him immediately, breathing in and relaxing against him. he pulled you in to his embrace tightly, humming contently before kissing the top of your head.
"were you sleeping, baby? it's only 11, though?" he mumbled into the hug.
"not a fan of that show you wanted to watch together," you yawned, making him laugh, "why are you home so early, though? wasn't expecting you for another couple hours." you questioned, rubbing your eyes and pulling away from him to look him in the eyes.
"I have some work to do at home," he said, "and I missed you, obviously." he chuckled sheepishly as he hung his jacket up on the coat hanger. "oh, do you know where my laptop is? I'm gonna need that."
"bedroom. I-I used it by the way, mine was dead, hope you don't mind." you chuckled nervously. you hated using things without asking first, and especially with things that were as important to the owner like chan's laptop was to him. and the way his face grew impossibly paler at your mention of using his laptop only made you even more anxious.
"n-no of course I don't, but you didn't close any of my tabs...right? you couldn't have, right?" he questioned hopefully, rushing to the bedroom with you hot on his trail. you felt like screaming, crying---anything that would lessen the pit of guilt growing in your chest. your breath was shaky as you stayed quiet.
"chan, I'm so sorry. It was an honest mistake, I swear." you whispered, feeling small and useless. even if it was an honest mistake, you knew it was a big one by the look of sheer panic and devastation rippling across chan's face.
"no no no no, y/n, no! this is due in a week, I spent months on those tracks! so many sleepless nights, and for what? I don't even have anything to show for it!" he yelled in frustration, discarding his laptop by tossing it onto the bed and away from him so he wouldn't break the thing.
"I'm so so sorry." you squeaked, not knowing what else to say. tears welled in your eyes and you flinched as chan groaned angrily and dropped his face into his hands.
"just leave please. I can't look at you right now." he said solemnly.
"w-what?"
"get. out." he gritted his teeth and squeezed his fists before releasing his breath.
"chris, it's so late, where do you expect me to go?" you asked meekly, suddenly feeling incredibly small in the face of his anger.
"y/n, please. I already have so much more on my plate now thanks to you, and you being here is only reminding me of how we got to this point and it's pissing me off more. so please," he turned to face you and spat with a pained look in his eyes, "leave. now." he rubbed his face and turned his back to you.
"I understand you're angry and need space. but if you're really telling me to leave our apartment this late at night just because you're angry," you gulped and took a deep breath to prepare your own heart for the next words you were about to say, "don't expect me to come back." your voice cracked. you waited for chan to turn around and stop you, but he only turned to his side to grab the headphones sitting on the desk next to him. it felt like he'd just abandoned you in that moment, leaving you with no choice but to keep your word.
you didn't think twice, turning to leave, not even bothering to grab your things or even a jacket, running out of your apartment building before finally letting yourself cry. the fresh spring rain came down sprinkling around you, making you shiver and leaving your skin uncomfortably sticky and wet. you walked quickly to the only place you knew you could go right now as midnight approached, not once turning back to see if chan had followed you out, knowing in your heart that when he sat down to work, nothing could distract him. not even his girlfriend---his partner and best friend---walking out on him.
pt. 2 coming soon!
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lunasfics · 6 months
Text
You Remind Me of Lilies - Damian Wayne
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Summary: "You remind me of lilies.” He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?”  You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Every time.”
pairing: older! Damian Wayne x gn! Reader
word count: 611
warnings: none
a/n: saw a picture of lilies and got the idea to write this <3 my formal apology for the jason angst lol, i hope you like it! - luna <3
reblogs are appreciated!
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The moment was a quiet one. The two of you were sitting on the grassy patch, the soft cloth from your earlier picnic providing comfort beneath you. Damian held your hand in his as he looked forward, eyeing the patches of lilies scattered across the meadow. 
You looked at him, his brilliant green eyes glazed over with the soft peachy tint of the sunset ahead. The soft breeze swaying his hair ever so slightly, his smooth olive skin was kissed by the soft pink and orange hues of the fading sun. He turned to you, his gaze catching yours. His lips quirked up into a soft smile.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“You remind me of lilies.” 
He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?” 
You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Everytime.” 
A soft shade of pink spreads over his ears and cheeks, he scoots closer to you, the hand that was holding yours letting go and snaking itself around your waist. You leaned into him, relishing the moment. The soft sounds of the grass rustling in the breeze, a blue hue slowly washing over you as the sun sets further. The temperature cooled slowly, the warmth of the sun dissipating, you brought yourself closer to Damian. 
“Tell me about the lilies.” He spoke softly, you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled. 
“Well, white lilies mean purity, tranquility, and humility. Red ones signify love and affection, pink symbolizes youth and joy, and orange ones represent happiness, love, and warmth.” 
He spoke softly, “I don’t know that I’m any of those things.” 
You turned to look at him, “Nonsense, you’re all those things and more.” 
He met your gaze, smiling softly, the sun was gone by now. However looking into his sparkling green eyes, seeing the small crinkles at the corners from his soft gaze, they could’ve fooled you into thinking the sun was shining on just the two of you. 
He leaned and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 
“I don’t think I would be anywhere near where I am today if not for you. I love you.” He spoke softly. His voice is gentle, tender. 
You were so proud of him. Truly. He'd graduated from the Robin title, taking on his own identity, he'd started attending Gotham University with you. He'd opened up, made friends, he'd come so far. And it was all him. As far as he has come, these kinds of soft gazes, tender words, and warm touches were the kind that he saved only for you. It made them all the more special.
“That's all the product of your effort, Dami, not me. I love you too.” You leaned your head back on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. 
The two of you stay like that for a moment, a comfortable silence washing over you like a warm blanket of serenity. The bees have stopped buzzing, the sounds now replaced with the distant songs of the cicadas, and the soft sounds of the crickets. 
Damian broke the silence, “I used to think you were too good for me. That I didn’t deserve you. This. Even now when I look at you it’s as though I am seeing the stars for the first time.”
You met his eyes, gazing into the now darkened shade of green, “You deserve everything good in this world.” 
He held you closer, kissing you softly. He pulled away, speaking softly, “The sun is down, we should get going.” 
You shook your head, “Let’s stay just a little bit longer. This is nice.” 
He smiled and nodded, “As you wish, beloved.”
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iamumbra195 · 7 months
Text
Random One Piece incorrect quotes cause I'm bored
Some of these are modern au though
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
*Sanji's not there*
Usopp: HELP! I TOLD LUFFY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!
Zoro, pouring alcohol directly into a cereal bowl:
Zoro: And you thought I could help?
...
Luffy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
Nami : Wasn't Zoro with you?
Zoro: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised
...
Law: I trust Mugiwara-ya.
Penguin: You think he knows what he's doing?
Law: I wouldn't go that far.
...
Sabo: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Ace, confused: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Sabo: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Luffy: edible
...
Nami: We need to get through this locked door. Usopp, give me your credit card.
Usopp: Here.
Nami, pocketing it: Thanks. Luffy, kick down the door.
...
Chopper: You know those things will kill you, right?
Zoro, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.
Sanji, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.
Luffy: *Nods while eating raw cookie dough*
...
Robin: Why is Luffy so sad?
Nami: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes
Robin: And...?
Nami: He got Buggy
*Zoro cackling in the background
...
Zoro: Self care is actually getting into fights with randos in dark alleys.
Nami: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!
Kin'emon, trying to be poetic: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!
Usopp: Lmao self care is taking Luffy's birthday meat cake just so I can eat the frosting.
Luffy: If you touch my meat cake I’ll make you eat your hands.
Sanji, losing his mind: WHY IS THERE FROSTING ON MEAT?
...
Franky, about Jinbe: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.
Robin: Are we stealing them?
Brook: New or used?
Franky, cackling: Wonderful responses, both of you.
...
Smoker: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.
Sanji: Shit.
Usopp: Wait, three?
Smoker: Yeah?
Nami: OH MY GOD ZORO FELL OFF!!!
...
Kin'emon: Tonight, one of you has betrayed us.
Ashura: Is it me?
Kin'emon: No, it’s not you.
Denjiro: Is it me, Kin?
Kin'emon: It’s not you either.
Kanjuro: Is it me, Kin'emon?
Kin'emon, bleeding from several debilitating injuries:
Kin'emon, mockingly: Is IT mE kiN'eMOn?
...
Usopp: Can I be frank with you guys?
Luffy, confused: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.
Chopper: Can I still be Chopper?
Franky, snickering: Shh, let Frank speak.
...
Sabo: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!
Koala: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD
Sabo: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ROBIN-CHAN WITH ME
Hack, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.
...
Law, walking into his submarine: Hello, people who do not belong here.
Zoro: Hey.
Sanji: Hi.
Robin: Hello.
Chopper: Hey!
Law: I gave you my vivre card for emergencies only!
Luffy, grinning: We were out of meat.
...
Sanji: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.
Luffy, drinking meat: Why do you say that?
...
Zoro: Do you take constructive criticism?
Nami: I only take cash or credit.
...
Koala: Why are you on the floor?
Sabo: I'm depressed.
Sabo: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ivankov, please.
...
Robin: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?
*everyone looks ay Karasu
Karasu: What? How am I supposed to know?
Lindbergh: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.
Karasu: *sighs*
Karasu: You wouldn't be trapped
...
Vivi: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.
Nami: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?
Vivi: Yes!
Usopp: ... I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.
...
Usopp: WHY. why did you give Luffy a KNIFE?!
Zoro, shrugging: He said he felt unsafe.
Usopp: Now I feel unsafe!
Zoro: ... would you like a knife?
...
Dragon: What did you do with the target's body?
Sabo : What didn’t I do with the body?
Dragon:
Sabo: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.
...
Luffy, texting Ace: Ace! Help I’m being kidnapped
Ace: Where are you?
Luffy: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help.
Ace: I’ll call Gramps.
Garp, answering their cell: Y’ello?
Ace: Where’s Luffy? He texted me that he was being kidnapped.
Garp: Luffy? Whaddya mean, he's right next to me-
Garp, who shaved his head:
Garp: I’ll call you back. *hangs up*
Garp: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD!
Luffy: WHO ARE YOU?!
...
*Ace, Sabo and Luffy sitting in jail together*
Sabo: So who should we call?
Ace: I’d call Gramps, but I feel safer in jail
...
Roger: Garp, my old arch enemy.
Garp: ... I thought I was your only arch enemy?
Roger: I have a life outside of you, Garp
...
Zoro: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.
Luffy: The cow???
Zoro: What?
Sanji: *disgusted shudder* LUFFY, W H Y?
...
Usopp: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion berry?
Zoro: Nami can stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house and erase my debt
Luffy: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 billion.
Zoro: Good thinking.
...
Kin'emon: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.
Denjiro: You were flirting with O'Tsuru.
Kin'emon: So what? She's my wife.
Denjiro: You asked her if she were single.
Kin'emon:
Denjiro: And then you cried when she said she wasn't
...
Marco: What time is it?
Ace: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out
Ace: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*
Izou: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING
Ace, proudly: It’s 2 am
...
Luffy: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.
Law: You people already know too much about me.
Kidd: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.
...
Sabo, an enabler: Tell Ace about the birds and the bees.
Luffy: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.
...
Brook: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.
...
Zoro: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.
...
Law: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.
Bepo: Captain, no.
...
Law: Nothing in life is free.
Chopper: Love is free!
Luffy: Adventure is free!
Robin: Knowledge is free.
Nami: Everything is free if you take it without paying.
...
Usopp: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Luffy will and will not eat.
Franky: Grass? Yes!
Usopp: Moss? Yes!!
Franky: Leaves? Ohh, yes!
Usopp: Shoelaces? Strange but true!
Franky: Worms? Sometimes!
Usopp: Rocks? Usually nah.
Franky: Twigs? Usually!
Usopp: Zoro's cooking? Inconclusive!
Chopper: How did you… test this?
Usopp: You just hand him stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it.
Chopper: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.
Nami: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT?
Robin: What about humans? He tried to eat Crocodile once
Everyone: ...
Usopp: I think I might be too afraid to ask
(Someone pls draw this one XD)
...
Betty: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?
Koala: *turning to Sabo* How tall are you?
...
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
That's it, this took forever to write lol
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arosebyan0thername · 10 months
Text
My cat has puked a couple times in the last week or two and just once was he ate a leaf or something but when he does it multiple times it's usually either he's dehydrated or constipated or eventually both, so please send whatever mystical good luck elves you have at your disposal to keep him from getting emergency room levels of sick in the next like 16 days until the two of us arrive home in vegas
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wosoamazing · 2 months
Text
Injuries, Confrontations and Apologies
Summary: Your Ma gets hurt but pretends she is fine and ends up in hospital.
Warnings: Concussions, Vomiting, Hospitals, Angst I guess
A/N: This was meant to be a soft comfort fic but somehow it turned into this – I mean I’m not mad. Hopefully you like it.
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Last Saturday a bee stung you, it made you feel icky and you had to go to the hospital. The doctors at the hospital gave your Mum’s these weird pen things. The doctors taught your Mum’s how to use them, as well as Steph and Sam for just encase. You were upset about your trip to the hospital, as it meant you had to miss the game but you get to go to the game this week.
You slept almost the whole bus ride, much to everyone’s delight, today was an important game, so with you sleeping it meant everyone could focus on the game. When you did wake up there was only 10 more minutes of the trip left, you decided to go walk down and sit next to Steph, once she realised you were trying to climb into the seat next to her she helped you up, you didn’t make any noise though, you just sat there as you took in the world around you.
In the locker room you sat in your Ma’s cubby as you ate your snacks, everyone kept looking over to you and whispering to your Mum’s that you looked extra cute today.
You were sitting on Leah’s lap, well more so her good leg as you watched the game from the bench, there was around 20 minutes of game time left when your Mum doubled over before she started losing her stomach contents on the pitch.
“Weah,” you said
“mmm” she hummed to let you know she was listening “Ma sick” you informed her pointing “What do you mean?” she asked clearly not looking at the pitch.
“I think if you stopped having a nap and looked at the pitch you would see what she means” Beth joked.
“Oh shit,” Leah said as she looked at the pitch before looking over to Beth and Viv, who just made funny faces you didn’t understand.
“We see Ma? See if okay?” You asked as the medics took her off the pitch.
 “Sure munchkin,” Leah put you down, stood up and was reaching to pick you up, before she was interrupted by Beth “Leah, you can’t carry her yet, it's too risky,” “I’ll be fine beth,”
“No Leah, Beth is right, it isn’t safe, or good for you, we will come with you” Viv said in a sterner tone. Leah huffed as Beth picked you up, before the three women took you to see your Ma.
When you arrived in the medical room your Ma was laying on one of the beds with her eyes closed.
“What happened?” Leah asked without warning, slightly startling your Ma.
“I started feeling a little dizzy and then next thing I knew I was throwing up” she replied.
“So, what you actually mean is that when you got hit in the head and feel backwards onto the pitch hitting your head again, you actually did feel it and really should’ve gone off then, but you wanted to keep playing so you risked your own health” Viv said as though your Ma was in trouble.
You stayed with your Ma until the game finished, you kept yourself entertained with a glove that Beth blew up.
____
When you got home your Mum told you to go play in your playroom for a bit, which you did, she then came in to talk to you. “Ma isn’t feeling too well, but you can see her if you want,” “O-tay, I go now?” “Yeah, you can, but you have to make sure to keep the lights off and be very quiet, and try not to move much, okay?” “O-tay,” you toddled down the hall and into your Mum’s room to see your Ma, while your Mum put some washing on.
“Ma,” you whispered as you walked up her side of the bed, her eyes slowly opened and she did some slow blinks, before she spoke.
“No Y/N, go away,” she said harshly, you quickly spun around as tears started rolling down your cheeks and ran out of the room, crashing into your Mum’s legs as your eyes were full of water and you couldn’t see.
“What’s wrong?” “M-Ma, said go way,” “Oh baby, I’m sorry,” your Mum said as she wiped some of your tears away, but as soon as she could wipe the old ones away new ones replaced them “How bout I put you on the couch and you can watch some frozen while I speak to your Ma.” You perked up at the idea of frozen and quickly nodded your head, your Mum put you down on the sofa and turned frozen on before she quickly filled one of your sippy cups with water and gave it to you. “I’ll be back okay,” you just nodded your head not really listening to her anymore because frozen was playing.
“Why did you tell Y/N to go away, you really upset her,” your Mum questioned your Ma.
“I feel like shit Cait, and I don’t want Y/N to, I don’t know” she huffed.
“I know you feel like shit, but it’s partly your fault, and it doesn’t give you the right to push everyone away who is just trying to help you and it especially doesn’t give you the right to get mad at your daughter and tell her to go away when all she was trying to do was help, I’m going to take y/n to the park, I’ll will be back in a bit, if you need anything please call me, I will come back and help, anything at all, I promise, but Beth and Viv have offered to take her to the park so I’m going to walk her around there,” before your Ma could say anything your Mum had walked out of their bedroom door.
____
“Katie, Babe, I just came back to check everything is alright, Y/N is still at the park with Beth and Viv” Caitlin said as she walked through the door, there was no response, “Katie, Babe,” the house was oddly silent, so she walked further through the house. “Shit, Katie,” Caitlin exclaimed as she rounded the corner to find Katie passed out in the middle of the floor, “Katie, babe, wake up” she shook Katie to wake her up.
“What, oh God,” Katie said as she woke up, she quickly got up off the floor and ran to the toilet before hunching over it, emptying the remains of her stomach’s contents.
“Why didn’t you call? You shouldn’t have gotten up and walked around,” Caitlin wondered what the point in asking that question was. Of course she didn’t call, she doesn’t ask for help and constantly pushes help away when she is offered it.
“Because you were mad,” Katie replied through gags. Shit she thought to herself. Was this her fault?
Katie stopped throwing up but soon passed out again, Caitlin quickly grabbed her phone and called Leah, in which Kim answered.
“Kim, Leah, I need your help. I’ve fucked up but that can be explained later, Katie needs to go to the hospital because I found her passed out and when I woke her up, she ran to the toilet and threw up heaps before she passed out again, but she isn’t going to listen to me, please help.” Caitlin stopped talking while her captains must’ve been talking, “Okay thank-you, I’ll go unlock the door, we’re just in our bathroom. Beth and Viv have Y/N.”
____
Thankfully the girls had been directed to a private waiting room, meaning they didn’t have to worry about fans. 
As Beth and Viv walked into the room Leah and Kim looked at them in confusion, “We called Steph, she called Sam, Y/N is staying at Sam and Kristie’s, we told her it’s just a last-minute sleepover type thing. Steph is on her way here now.” Kim and Leah nodded with slight relief, hoping Steph would be able to talk to Caitlin, and maybe calm her down. She had been pacing the length of the room, wiping away her tears as they fell since they arrived.
Steph arrived and looked at the four women before her gaze moved over to Caitlin, she cautiously approached her and gently put a hand on her shoulder as she softly said, “Hey Cait, can you sit down for me,” Caitlin looked up at her and just about broke, almost collapsing in the chair behind her.
“I’m so stupid, this is all my fault” she blurted out.
“This isn’t your fault, this is her fault, she is the one that played with a concussion and made it worse, she is the one that didn’t ask for help when you told her too,” Steph said as she put her arm around her shoulder and rubbed her hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her.
“Yeah, but I left her alone, I left her alone after I got mad at her, I left the person who doesn’t take help let alone ask for it alone, with instructions to call the person who just got mad at her for help, what was I thinking she would’ve never called for help anyway let alone after I just got mad at her. I, I can’t believe I was so dumb to think that, I literally left her to fend for herself, what if she had hit her head on something on the way down, she could’ve died, I could’ve killed her, oh god, I can’t believe I just did that, I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have left her alone,” She blurted out, she leant into Steph’s side before continuing, “I was, I was,” she stammered before taking a few deep breaths as she suddenly felt sick “I’m going to be sick” Steph quickly reacted and thankfully as they were in a hospital there was just about sick bags on all the walls, in little dispensers. Steph rubbed her back as she lost some of her stomach contents, before Beth handed her a bottle of water which she took a small sip from. “Can you please lie down for me?” Steph asked, concerned for her friend, Caitlin did as she said and rested her head in Steph’s lap, falling asleep.
_____
Viv was in Katie’s room as she woke up, sitting on a chair at the side of the bed, she started to speak before Katie could. “I’m really disappointed in you, you really need to learn to let people help you, it’s not weak, Caitlin is literally out there in an absolute state, she literally made herself sick because she feels like such a crap person for getting mad at you and leaving you, when in reality she did nothing wrong, she left you with strict instructions to call for help. You do realise if she hadn’t come back when she did we could be in a very different situation. You might not even be here. In all honesty McCabe it’s hard when we try and help you and all you do is push us away, so I can’t even imagine what it is like for Caitlin, I get it you’re mad at the world in these situations, I’ve been there we all have, but you can’t push people away, especially the people in your life who love you the most, Caitlin absolutely adores you and for the most part you two have a great relationship but currently she is out there in shambles because she offers and offers when you need help and you don’t take, I don’t understand it.”
Katie couldn’t reply to that, Viv was right, there was nothing to do or say, other than to apologise to Caitlin who wasn’t there.
After quite a lot of awkward silence Katie spoke “Where’s Y/N?” “She is having a fun sleepover at Kristie’s and Sam’s, that’s all she knows.”
_____
Caitlin walked in hesitantly, her hair was a mess, her cheeks were tearstained, she had big bags under her eyes. Katie started crying, knowing it was her fault her girlfriend was looking this bad. Caitlin walked over to where the chair was sitting next to Katie’s bed, she sat down in it as she took Katie’s hands in hers before taking a deep breath. 
“Katie, I’m sorry I left you alone, I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did I wouldn’t have ever left you alone, no matter how angry I was. But this is why you need to communicate with people, with me Babe. It’s dangerous when you don’t tell us how you are feeling. You could’ve died.” she sighed before continuing “I just don't understand why you won't accept help, needing help isn't a weakness it’s normal. I love you, I want to help you, try and help you feel slightly better. I’m not going to judge you or complain or tell you that you’re overreacting. I just want you to let people help you, at least let me help you, please” she kissed Katie’s hands and let them go. Katie sat up shifting forward in the bed, before she looked longingly up at Caitlin, who realised this was Katie asking for her help, even though she wasn’t using her words, it was a start. Caitlin climbed onto the bed and situated herself behind Katie, placing her legs either side of her before pulling her in towards her, Katie rested her head back to rest in the crock of Caitlin’s neck.
“I’m sorry Cait, I love you,” was all that Katie whispered in her ears before her eyes fluttered shut.
Caitlin awoke to the sound of gagging, she quickly grabbed the sick bowl and placed it in front of Katie before helping her to sit up slightly, Caitlin rubbed her back, as she dry heaved.
“Cait, help” Katie managed to say through gags, she sounded as though she was in tears, Caitlin pressed the call button, “I know babe, it’s not nice, but I’m here, I’ve got you, you’ve got this, you’re going to be okay,” Katie stopped and collapsed back into Caitlin, as they nurse walked in, she spoke to Katie, however her words were more directed too Caitlin “I’ll give you some anti-nausea medication,” she said, before she started sifting through draws, once she found it she put it into Katie’s IV and said, “hopefully that helps but if it doesn’t let us know and we will try and figure something else out.”
“Thank you,” Caitlin said as she smiled at the nurse who was walking out of the room. The pair very quickly fell asleep again, their day had been hectic to say the least, leaving the both of them exhausted. 
It was the third time that night that Katie had woken up dry heaving, the second time it happened she was sent for another MRI to check she didn’t have a brain bleed or a clot, it came back clear, so they gave her antihistamines to see if they did anything, but they apparently didn’t. “Cait, please” Katie cried out.
“I know babe, I wish it would stop too, I wish I could make it stop, but I’m here and I’ll stay here, I love you, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re doing great babe,” Caitlin said trying to reassure her girlfriend as she continued to dry heave. Caitlin eventually pressed the Nurse’s call button again as Katie hadn’t stopped, after consulting with a few doctors and specialists they decided to give Katie more anti-nausea medicine even though she had had the maximum amount, thankfully they did the trick and Katie stopped, allowing the pair to sleep through the rest of the night.
_____
You sat on the floor of the living room in your house playing with your toys, as Steph sat on the couch, watching over you, when you heard a familiar car engine pull into the driveway, a few moments later you heard Keys in the door unlocking it as Steph said “That’s your Mum and Ma,”.
As the door opened you tensed up, not knowing what your Ma might say to you, you saw your Ma standing next to your Mum and you ran upstairs into your room.
Your Mum and Steph helped your Ma into her room and got her all sorted before Steph left, telling them to call her if they needed anything. Your Mum told your Ma she was just going to check on you quickly and then she would be back.
Your Mum opened your door and saw your sobbing body splayed out on your bed, she picked you up. You tried to fight her hold but she just tightened her grip causing you to give in.
“Ma doesn’t want me,” you sadly say.
 “Oh Monkey, that’s not true, your Ma was feeling very icky and that made her mad,” she said wiping the hair out of your face.
“Like it always does?” you question, your Ma had never been so mad when she was icky that she made you go away.
“Yeah but extra mad. But we have talked and she is going to try and not get so made when she is icky. Do you want to see her? I think she would like to see you,” you nodded hesitantly and you were carried into their room. The light was very dim in there, but your Ma could still see your red tear stained cheeks and your puffy eyes, and she felt very angry with herself.
“I’m super sorry Munchkin, I shouldn't have yelled at you to go away, you were only trying to see if I was okay,” she said as your Mum put you down on the bed, you didn't reply to her, but instead crawled over to her and curled into her side, falling asleep almost immediately. Your Ma was confused by you falling asleep so quickly, and furrowed her brows at your Mum who answered her.
“Sam messaged me this morning, said she didn’t sleep very well last night, go to sleep I might too, but let me know if you need anything please.”
“I love you, Cait, thank you, for everything,” Your Ma said, before your Mum leant over to place a quick kiss on her lips. They both quickly joined you in sleep.
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mrskokushibo · 9 months
Text
Sweetness
Mitsuri x Obanai x fem! reader
18+ I MDNI
Plot: On a lovely day, at the beginning of spring, you get interrupted in your chores. But the interruption is exactly what your deprived body craves.
Warnings: smut, voyeurism, threesome, girl on girl action, facial, oral, breast action, penetration, face sitting, fingering, squirting.
A/N: This was requested by Anonymous.
Word count: 2.1K
Masterlist
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The otherwise so neat garden beds outside the Butterfly Mansion were in need of some pruning. As you were squatting and pulling out the freshly sprouted weeds, your efforts were accompanied by the gentle buzzing of bees collecting nectar from the delicate, first flowers of spring, and by the chirping of industrious little birds. The air was balmy, but not yet hot enough for you to brake in sweat, thus you were very comfortable and worked through the entire length of the garden bed without much effort.
Suddenly, there was a fluttery sound above you and as you looked up, two forest pigeons landed, one by one on a branch in the tree. The male was performing the courting dance routine, spreading his wide fan-like tail in an attempt to attract the female. You smiled to yourself at the ways of nature and proceeded to put away the gardening tools in the shed. As you washed your hands in the outdoor basin, you remembered to check on the laundry drying on the line on the other side of the courtyard.
You took your time strolling across the lawn to the clotheslines, the washing fluttering in the breeze, creating an opaque filter for the bright sunlight. It was already dry, the smell of freshly washed cotton overpowering the spring scents momentarily. You began the meticulous process of folding each and every sheet neatly and putting it down in the laundry hamper. It took a while, but you did not mind as it gave you time to savor the surrounding for a while longer.
Ready at last, you picked up the basket and began to walk toward the front door. As you looked up to the Sakura tree near the doorway, the two pigeons were now mating, the soft rustle of feathers and quiet guttural sounds accompanying the quick and ferocious ravage. You shook your head and smiled again.
The sweet scent of the spring air lingered on the linen now so neatly folded in the laundry basket that you were carrying. You sniffed the bedsheets, enjoying the fresh smell, and walked into the building closing the door behind you using one leg. The place was so quiet and clean, only a few dust particles were hovering in the ray of sunlight coming in through a side window. Other than that, it was spotless.
Every time you had the Butterfly Mansion to yourself, you cleaned up and organized everything the way you wanted it to be. You took great pride in your unnoticed work. It did not bother you that you stayed in the shadows servicing the flamboyant, excentric hashiras, and demon slayers. You knew your effort provided them with a safe and cozy environment to recuperate and heal after their dangerous missions.
As you were walking through the long corridor, on your way to the storage room, you could not help but notice an open door at the very end of it. No one was supposed to be here at this time of day and you were told that the Hashira would all be out on missions this week. You slowed your footsteps and made them light and as silent as possible. But as you began nearing the room, quiet, muffled sounds were reaching your ears.
At first, you thought that maybe the window was open and it was bird- and animal sounds that were coming in from the outside. And that maybe the opened window was what caused a draft that made an unlocked door fling undone. The closer you got though, the more you realised what these sounds were. You could now make out whispers and an occasional high-pitched giggle, blended with quiet moans and deep, raspy grunts… The sounds of, yes… sex…
Since you were quite unsatiated lately due to your lonely existence, your body began to react in that familiar and dizzying way. You quietened your steps even further and continued your advance toward the source of the lewd noises. It was now entirely obvious what was going on in that room and you began to make out familiar voices. Putting down the basket quietly on the floor, you decided to sneak up to the door and peek in. *Just a little peek* you told yourself. You did not want to be nosy, but at the same time, the urge to see what was going on was too strong, now that you were beginning to get aroused.
As you reached your destination, you could easily hide behind the half-open door and watch unnoticed, and there, on the bed were Mitsuri and Obanai, going at it like two rabbits. She was on her back, flushed cheeks, eyes closed, and moaning in pleasure, with Obanai between her legs humping away and eliciting deep grunts. He was squeezing her large and plump breasts and you could see how he was licking them and sucking on the erect little nipples adorning the two luscious and perfectly round plump mounds.
‘Oh, yes, baby. Suck them…just like that. This feels so good…’
‘You know how much I love these tits, my love. Just touching them makes me hard.’
He then whispered something inaudible in her ear, causing her to blush even more and giggle.
‘Well, make me come and then maybe I will let you put your cock between them. I wouldn’t mind some cum on my face.’
She giggled again and he grunted speeding up his pace.
Your panties were soaked now from this performance and your hand moved almost instinctively to touch yourself. At first, you were rubbing through the fabric, but soon enough, that was not enough and you moved them aside and began rubbing yourself between your folds, making your way to your now very stimulated clit.
Mitsuri was moaning louder now and within minutes, she climaxed, arching her back, causing her magnificent rack to bounce up a little. Obanai was not ready yet and he straddled her torso and positioned himself just beneath her breasts.
‘You promised’
He kissed her pouting mouth and squeezed her breast with his thighs, placing his cock between them, it was as if it got swallowed by them. He then began pumping and groaning loudly.
‘Fuuuuck…they feel good. I will not last long like this. Lick my tip, baby’
She stretched out her delicious little tongue and like a kitten lapping up milk, she was lapping up the precum on the tip of his cock whenever it was emerging from between the large tits.
‘I’m coming…oooh!’ He grunted and thick ropes of cum shot all over her neck and face.
You too were too aroused to hold back and came with a loud moan. And this was when they noticed their spectator.
‘What the fuck, I thought you said we were alone’ Obanai hissed, talking to Mitsuri, but looking annoyed in your direction.
‘No, dear, don’t be mad at her. We are the ones at fault here.’
She giggled and smiled at you.
‘Did you like what you saw?’
She tilted her head sweetly and you could not help, but think what an adorable person she really was.
‘You know, why don’t you join us? I feel like fucking some more.’
She turned to Obanai: ‘What do you say? Would you like some more? And think, fucking two girls instead of one. What a treat, hey?’
He mumbled something, but clearly, the temptation was taking the better of him, as you could see his cock already getting hard again.
‘All right, whatever you wish for, my sunshine.’ They kissed and Mitsuri stretched out a hand to you.
‘Come over, darling. Do not be shy. This will be fun.’ She smiled at you as you began walking over to her.
It was as if you were an insect lured in by the sweetness of honey, everything about Mitsuri oozed femininity and gentleness, it was as if she emanated a rosy aura that made your senses tingle and sing. Your slow, cautious footsteps at last placed you right next to her, touching her small, but surprisingly strong hand, you found yourself placing a kiss on her moist lips. It was as if you were in contact with a freshly bloomed rose, still moist with morning dew.
She began helping you to remove your clothes and very soon you were just as naked as the other two occupants of the room. Your eyes were fixated on her breast and she noticed.
‘Don’t be shy, sweetie. Touch them’
And without any more encouragement, you placed your hand on her roundness and began stroking and squeezing, causing her to moan a little. You continued to kiss, your tongues slowly finding each other and nudging gently between the softness of feminine lips. You could feel her hand slide down your belly, down to your sex, beginning to rub gently, with soft small movements. You did not want to leave her unattended and began to reciprocate the action.
The sweetness of it all was indescribable. A pleasure only comparable to biting into a plump, freshly made Sakura mochi or taking a cool bath after a hot day. There was heat too, a passion of a different kind, a wish for more, and a will to give. The lack of masculine aggression in the softness of both your actions and the pure and unadulterated lust for her touch was making your body almost limp. Your juices were streaming down your legs and you were both drowning in each other and in your arousal. You were getting very close to crossing over the line leading to the peaks of pleasure when you were interrupted by Obanai clearing his throat. He was obviously watching, engulfed in his own neediness, as you turned around, you could see him seated at the end of the futon, stroking his painfully hard cock.
Mitsuri looked at him with a smile, her hands still on your nipple and between your legs:
‘Oh, sorry Obi, we are neglecting you. How about you lie down and let us both take care of you.’
He did not wait and lay down flat lazily, while Mitsuri gave you another lewd kiss and directed you to where his head was.
‘How about we ride him... I take the cock and you take his face.’
You nodded and both of you took your respective positions facing each other. He groaned deeply as Mitsuri sank herself down on his hardness, her sweet high-pitched moaning making you want to touch her even more. She began riding him at a slow and gentle pace, her breasts bouncing only slightly. You were not fully seated on Obanai’s face yet, but that changed quickly when a pair of rough, strong hands grabbed your hips and pulled you down on his lips and stretched out tongue, that in an experienced manner found its way straight into your sopping wet pussy. You moaned now too as he was licking and swirling his tongue in and out of your opening.
‘Move a bit for me. You will have some more friction like that.’
You could hear him speak through the wet licking noises, his voice muffled by your cunt pressing on his mouth.
You began grinding your hips back and forth on his mouth, and sure enough, you started to feel so much more. As you worked out a good rhythm your attention went back to Mitsuri, who leaned into you, pressing her breasts against yours, the impossibly luscious softness against your own multiplied the pleasurable sensations and you began to caress her breasts and play with her nipples.
She reciprocated and soon you added the softest of kisses to the already so lustful actions. You felt on the edge of consciousness. Your core began to clench achingly and a few more bucks of your hips and you were squirting all over Obanai’s face while squealing noisily. As you kept riding out your high by continued grinding your hips on his mouth, you intensified your nipple action on Mitsuri’s breast. She could barely hold back and a moment later climaxed with a loud moan. The two of you were panting heavily, chests heaving and flushed cheeks covered with sweat. In the meantime, Obanai kept pumping into Mitsuri and as she kept kissing you, he threw a strong sloppy thrust into her and came with a quiet growl.
The three of you were now lying down, spent from your activities.
‘Well, that was quaint.’ Mitsuri giggled.
‘We should so do this more often, don’t you think?’
You could not help but agree. You nodded and closed your eyes listening to the sweet sounds of spring coming through the window.
Banner by @cafekitsune
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peachesofteal · 9 months
Note
I need the next part of the disco baby trap hospital drabble🥺 Simon and Johnny take Darling and Bee home, maybe their apartment where they can better keep an eye on them, but it’s so tense because Darling is worried they’re going to try to take Bee from her, is still feeling the sting of betrayal, maybe is afraid they’re trying to trap her again
🍄
🩵
18+ / Takes place after this / baby trap au
“Alright, alright.” Johnny murmurs, walking a pattern back and forth in the kitchen, arms slightly bouncing an unhappy Bee to try to settle her. “I know, ‘m not mum. I know.” He can’t help the anxiety that flickers through him, eyes casting quickly to the closed bedroom door, where he can just barely hear the low hum of Simon’s voice, vibrating underneath the echo of your coughing.
He paces in the between the countertops and the fridge, working a pattern, stepping in time to a melody that he’s barely whispering to his daughter, something old, a forgotten tune his mother used to lull him to sleep with. At first, it doesn’t do much to settle Bee, and a wash of emotions threaten to pull frustrated tears to his eyes.
Why should it? He’s but a stranger to her, after all. She does not know either of them, and there’s no one to carry the blame of it except for him, and Simon. She was miserable in the hospital, and neither of them could soothe her, the only thing that succeeds in calming her was to be placed in your bed, by your side, even though you were too weak and too sick to even hold her.
“Let’s get ye some food, eh?” He fidgets with the jar lid, and Bee’s brows furrows with indignation as she glares upwards. This attitude reminds him so much of you, from before, when things were good, and you were happy, safe and secure, confident. Bee fusses at him, but when he goes to put her in her high chair so she can eat, she wails in protest, like something new is upsetting her. “What is it?” He strokes a finger across her cheek and then up to her forehead, checking for warm skin, and breathing a sigh of relief when it feels normal. Her fever broke in hospital three days ago, and your doctor finally agreed to allow the two of you to go home yesterday, even though you were still incredibly weak and exhausted from the pneumonia.
“I’d feel better releasing you both if you could assure me there will be someone to support you at home.” Your doctor sighs, while she thumbs through a tablet at your bedside. Bee sleeps in the bassinet next to your bed, laying between where they sit on the other side of the room, and you. “You’re still running a low fever, and the shortness of breath is going to persist for a while.” Your lower lip trembles, and a tear forms on your waterline, spilling over onto your check when you try to take a deep breath as you quickly wipe it away.
“We can help.” Simon says, keeping his voice soft. The doctor glances at him, before looking back at you. “If you’ll let us.”
“We’d love to be there, for you and Bee.” Johnny adds, hopefully, rubbing a palm against the back of his neck. He’s having a hard time standing still, and Simon knows it, tries to calm him by pressing the outside of his thigh to Johnny’s.
“I’ll let you three talk it out.” The doctor says, before putting the tablet away and patting the bed. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Bee cries aloud, and he holds her against his chest, patting her back gently, swaying side to side. “Okay baby girl, you’re okay.” He kisses her softly on the top of her head, trying to shush her gently. Your voice crests from the bedroom, a sob that fades into a cough, and he tenses, worry thrumming through him. Bee settles a little, her face going blissfully sleepy, and he picks the lullaby back up, eager to rock her into her dreams.
“You need more sleep.” Simon tries to ease you into closing your eyes from where he sits on the bed, halfway down the mattress, far enough away that you’re comfortable, but close enough that he feels like he can get you to focus. You’ve been in a fog, head cloudy and a little off kilter, the low grade fever still running through your system and the cough wrecking havoc on your rest. He doesn’t think he’s seen you sleep for more than a few hours at a time, and your body is weak as a result.
He’s trying to be gentle, to be soft, to let you choose and decide. He’s determined not to overstep, not to make you feel like you’re backed into a corner, or that they’re here for nefarious reasons. He knows, you don’t want them here. He knows you reluctantly agreed because you’re doctor practically demanded it.
He also knows you know, that you’re too sick and run down to take care of Bee right now. The realization is a difficult one to swallow because you’ve been so strong, so resilient all this time.
He’s in awe of it, of you. Of how incredible of a mum you’ve been to Bee, all the sacrifices you’ve made to give her an opportunity to flourish, how you’ve taken care of her, given her the best of everything you could find. It doesn’t escape him, the toll it’s taken on you, the way you’ve neglected yourself for her, the way you’ve put yourself dead last in every aspect to make sure she’s well and happy.
Their darling girl, so brave. So strong for your daughter, but never for yourself.
But at the same time, it makes him hate himself even more. Hates what he’s done, hates how he let himself get out of control and do something so hideous to the person he loves. Hates how because of him, you’ve suffered so greatly. Hates that he let his most selfish urges cloud his judgement, hates how he ruined everything for you, and Johnny. How he ruined your happiness, Johnny’s happiness, his own. He tries not to think about how it felt to see the fear in your eyes, how it was when you were convinced they were there to take Bee away from you, like he was a wretched monster.
Like he was a man as wicked as his father.
“No.” You shake your head, trying to reach towards where Bee is cradled in Johnny’s arms. “I wa-want Bee. Give her to me.” You cry, and push away from Simon, stumbling before careening towards the ground. He catches you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Darling, we’re at the hospital. We need to go inside.”
“No, no. I won’t… I won’t let you take her.” He grits his teeth, jaw tightening as he turns your face towards his.
“Look at me.” You try to twist away but he holds you still. “Shhh, darling. Look at me. It’s okay, everything is okay.” Your breath is ragged, wet and heavy, and he can feel how hot your skin is beneath his touch. “We’re not here to take Bee. We’re going to see a doctor okay? Bee needs a doctor, right? That’s why we’re here.”
Your hand curls into a fist by your side, and he beats back his urge to reach for it, to try to comfort you, even though he knows you’d recoil from him. He wants to soothe you, pull you into his chest, ease your worries and fear. He wants to take control and fix this, to do what he knows to do best, but he can’t.
You’ll never trust him again.
You cough, hunching forward, and he grabs the glass of water from the bedside table, pointing the straw towards your mouth. Your features soften when you sip, and once he’s satisfied you’ve had enough, he pulls away. You sag where you’re propped up against the pillows, practically wilting and he wants to scream in frustration, in fear. He has half a mind to take you back to the hospital, and almost did this morning, but stood down after talking to your doctor on the phone.
“Do you think you can sleep?” He asks, and you blink at him, lips parted, like you’re processing his words but unable to answer.
“I don’t know.” You moan, miserably, and his heart breaks a little bit while tears web in your lashes. You’re so sick, and uncomfortable, and he wants to help you but no matter what he does, nothing comforts you. “Where’s Bee?”
“Johnny was going to give her a bit of lunch. In the kitchen.” His fingers spread wide on the bed, desperately seeking you, like they’re moving on their own accord, pulling him closer and closer.
“I want to-“ your words are choked off by another cough and he grimaces. “I want to see her.” You cry, the tears that were gathering in your eyes spilling freely down your cheeks, and you gasp a sob. “I want Bee.”
“Okay, okay.” He tries to console you, and his hand moves closer, now resting against the outside of your knee. “You were resting, darling. He only took her to the kitchen.” He explains, and you shake your head before slumping farther into the bed, your body now overcome with sobs.
“Please.” You moan, and then cough between your tearful breaths. “Simon.” You cry his name, eyes half closed. Something shifts above the sheets, and then warm fingers are brushing against his.
His heart stops in his chest before he realizes it wasn’t intentional, that you were just moving. Still, he can hope.
He says your name, and you cry harder, head heavy, your lungs fighting for each breath, the combination of your distress and the pneumonia choking off your air. “Hey, hey. It’s-“
“Si-Simon.” You gasp, and then your eyes are widening in a haze of fear. “I ca- can’t… can’t breathe.” You’re panicking, you’re scared, and he can’t fight himself well enough to keep his hands for reaching for you.
To his shock, you don’t fight him. He moves slowly, painstakingly so while your body shakes with sobs, but you don’t tense or flinch away.
“Darling,” he whispers. “Can I hold you?” He wouldn’t dare try to without your say so, not when he’s hurt you so badly, betrayed your trust beyond a level of comprehension. If you don’t want him to, he won’t.
But you’re also free falling into a panic attack. Your body is trembling, and he’s scared, holding his breath while you answer with a nod.
It’s enough, enough for him to move forward and pull you into his arms, wrapping you up without holding you too tight, settling his palm on the back of your neck to gently squeeze you there. He runs his other hand up and down your back and you cry into his chest.
“I want Bee.” Your plea is interrupted by another coughing fit, and he leans you back slightly and tilts your face upwards to try to help you breathe.
“Shhh. It’s alright. She’s just outside, Johnny will bring her in. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
“It’s n-ot.” You wheeze as he coos above your ear.
The bedroom door creaks open, revealing a hesitant Johnny with a very sleepy baby in his arms, who stops dead in his tracks when he sees what’s happening the bed. The image of you, cradled against Simon, letting yourself be held, letting yourself be touched. He blinks in surprise, and Simon gives him a look. Do not make a big deal.
“She’s right here.” Johnny calls to you, crossing the distance and then sitting hesitantly beside Simon. “Bee’s right here. We didn’t go far, just to the kitchen. Promise.” Your shaking hands reach for her, but you don’t try to hold her, you just place your palm on her chest while you rest against Simon. Your breathing evens out slowly, matching his own, and Bee’s, and your cries quiet to occasional sniffles while your lungs rasp. Minutes pass, and yet you still don’t pull away, instead staying tucked into Simon, body relaxing slowly. His thumb rubs circles into your neck, and Johnny watches with wide eyes.
“Everything’s alright.” Simon murmurs into your hair. “It’s okay. Bee’s here.” You nod, eyes starting to slip shut, body and mind wrung out with exhaustion.
As you drift, Bee does too, until you’re both asleep, with Simon and Johnny holding their breath collectively, eyes flicking from you, to Bee, to one another every other second, like they can’t believe what they’re seeing.
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