#ru ask box | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mauvecherie-writes · 2 years

Note

Please can you give us a little someone about their holidays in hawaii? 🥺 Like how it end up like this? They were playing cards and then she was riding his tongue? Friends are suppose to be rewarded like that? what kind of friendship is this? OH I WANT IT

Yeah so this led me to writing out how it all played out 🤣. It really was supposed to be a short ting but I got a bit carried away. Oops. Hope you love it 💕

What Happened in Hawaii.

BAD FOR YOU AU

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, smut, oral (f receiving).

word count: 1.3K

pairing: lewis hamilton x black f!reader

Ever since the events of the last season, you and Lewis were kind of stuck to the hip - much to the annoyance of your boyfriend but he had hesitantly agreed. Your best friend was going through an incredibly difficult time and he needed your support.

And it was in that seeing each other almost everyday that something in your friendship shifted, on your part anyway. These romantic feelings that were never there beginning to grow and you hated it and yourself for feeling such a way. So when Lewis was starting to talk to more of his friends and family, you drew away - focusing on your relationship more.

Lewis thought that the two of you were finally getting somewhere and then you started pulling away from him and he didn’t like it. Your relationship with Jared wasn’t going to stop him. He just needed to get you alone and his coming birthday was the perfect opportunity. All close friends and family on a trip to Hawaii.

Jared didn’t want you to go but who was he to tell you what to do. You weren’t thinking about him as you spent days in the sun, swimming in the blue waters, enjoying good company and good food.

The tension that you had been trying to ignore immediately came back and lord was it intense. Each look, each graze of a touch, just hearing his laughter sent shivers down your spine and left an ache in the pits of your stomach. It was fucking annoying this sexual awakening you were having for your best friend.

On the last days of the trip, the crew had been chilling on a yacht and once the children went to sleep, the adults came out to play. Big mistake. Adding alcohol into the mix was an even bigger mistake. It loosened your inhibitions and once you were like that, you began to flirt - returning the looks, returning the touches and how you responded to him was amplified.

It left you wanting more, needing more. But you weren’t going to admit to it. So you drank even more and that was very fucking stupid because you kept winning the card games and one by one, everyone left until it was just you and Lewis.

Each round, the stake kept getting higher, more risqué and with the shots of tequila settling in your stomach, you wanted to push how far you could go.

“If I win, I want you to take off your shirt.” You bit your lip as you looked at him with your eyes sitting low and small smirk.

“Can I choose my reward.”

“What?”

He had been sitting close to you and the way his eyes took in every detail of your face, lingering on your lips as you bit on the bottom one before moving back to your eyes. Your nose tips were touching and were just one breath away from kissing but the anticipation was far more delicious.

“I want you sit on my face and I wanna eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth.” He mumbled.

His words took you aback but fuck - the confidence turned you on so much. You almost, almost said fuck it to the game and just did what he wanted but you knew that if you crossed that line, there was no turning back for you.

“Fine. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“I don’t like losing sweetheart and if it means getting to taste you at the end, I don’t plan on losing.”

The game was close in your favour and you played a great hand but ultimately, his was better. You should have known when his lip quirked up as you placed your cards down that your game was over but deep down, you weren’t really upset that you had lost. You were finally about to give into that feeling that you had yearning for the past few months.

Lewis didn’t waste time pulling you into his lap and placing his hands on your thighs as your summer dress bunched up at your waist. You braced your hands on his chest as his fingers tugged on the bikini bottom strings at your hips, his eyes holding your gaze as he manoeuvred the fabric away from your body and he dropped them beside him.

You pressed your cunt against him as you rushed to capture his lips, moans slipping out of you as he gripped your heavy ass in his hands. A deep growl left his chest as he pulled you tighter against him and you just wanted to melt him. There was too much clothing in between you but the way your cunt was throbbing was too distracting.

“Lewis — “ the tone of pleading in your voice was all that he needed. He placed a pillow beneath his head and got himself comfortable.

“Come ‘ere.” He licked his lip as he smiled. “Need your pretty pussy in my face.”

And once you did so, your mind was gone. You gasped as he attacked your clit, swirling the trio of his tongue around the nub and then sucking it into his mouth. You jerked forward and you had to stable yourself by holding onto the table close to you as you rolled your hips to his pace.

He ate you out so good, it didn’t take long until your thighs were trembling and tightening around his face. But he wrapped his hands around your thighs - keeping them open as he looked up at you as you used his face. His tongue was inside of you as you bumped your clit against his nose with each little thrust of your hips.

“That feels so good baby.” You softly whimpered as you tugged at your nipples and played with in between your fingers. He took your clit back into his mouth, relentlessly circling and sucking on it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you began grinding faster, not giving a fuck that you could be blocking his breathing.

Honestly - he didn’t care, his dick was throbbing so hard. Hearing your pants and moans for him, your hips thrashing wildly into his mouth and loss of breath as yours pitched higher and higher was electrifying.

“Lewis baby I’m gonna cum! I’m cummin’ on your face! Oh fuck! Oh fuuckk!” He flattened his tongue against your clit as you rocked back and forth until your whole body shook with your eruption.

Feeling you tightly tug on his braids almost made cum in his boxers. He moved one hand to his dick and gripped it to stop himself and try and sooth the hard throbbing.

Once your breathing was back in order and your mind began to clear — you tried to move away - to run from the pleasure, from him but Lewis grabbed your arm and pulled you back into his body and without missing a beat, he kissed you again.

The taste of yourself on this tongue erased the creeping guilt and shame and replaced it with an emerging desire for the man pushing you back down onto the carpeted floor and his hard cock pressing onto your inner thigh.

“We’ve done too much. I can’t —.” You tried to shake yourself to your senses but as his lips and his hands explored your body, your mind became numb with desire. Your breasts were now exposed to the cool air, your legs parted to accommodate his body as he took his shirt off and let his chains glisten in the low lights until he was hovering above you and the cold metal touched your naked chest.

“So why stop now? Just lose yourself in me for a bit.” One hand wrapped around your throat and moved your head to the side for his mouth to nip at your neck and the other hand found home in between your legs …

————————————————

@queenshikongo3 @lewisinlace @lostinlewis @fineanddandy @olyvoyl @melodicheauxxo @melinda-january @royallyprincesslilly @chaneajoyyy @felicity-x0 @dhlfastestlap @piscesgyalinit @sadthotsonlylove @lewisthot @xsweetdellzx @playgurlxoxo @icysdiary @loveandlewis @federical97 @dreamer-grl @9daykrisr @write-fromthe-start @est1887 @zaeydi @kindan3rdy951 @valkryienymph @bekindbecoolbeyou @windrush-child @babyflowa07 @abcdestinyyyy @lewiscrown

#mauvecherie writes #what happened in Hawaii drabble #bad for you fic #where you belong fic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton #ru asks #ru answers #ru ask box #sir lewis hamilton #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction

435 notes · View notes

miyakuli · 6 months

Text

I've been tagged...

...by @oo-mi-ru-oo for a picrew game, thank you :D

What to do? Do these two picrew Picrew 1 Picrew 2

My result:

That was super fun!!

Tagging if you want : @a-small-constellation @gojosattoru @fismoll7secinv @justjimei @difanghua

#I like how everyone put their glasses box in it but me I can't separate from them otherwise I'll be blind x'D #picrew #personal #ask meme #oo-mi-ru-oo #michelle

13 notes · View notes

monarchisms · 1 year

Note

Do you, or a follower, happen to know if the new volume of rwby is free anywhere? I'd 🏴‍☠️ it but I don't really know how to do that safely on mobile devices. I don't have a pc/laptop so idk how to install ad blockers and stuff, so going to those types of sites gives me immense anxiety. I mean I could pay for a premium subscription on Crunchyroll but I don't really want to directly give them and rt money. Unless the episodes will be completely free later? I didn't think it would be, since the rest of the show is under premium as well. Was just wondering if there were other options.

ooh, good question! gimme a sec to compile everything i know and add some links and shit like that. if anyone wants to add more information, sites, or corrections, please feel free to do so ^_^

okay, first off, you're right in that you do have to pay for a premium crunchyroll subscription to watch the current season of rwby. here's the post on the rt site explain all of that in better detail. otherwise, it will eventually be on the rt site a year from now, though i don't know if anyone else at rt gave a specific date yet. someone can correct me if i'm wrong here.

second, from me pirating other shows in the past, i find that depending on the site, new episodes of ongoing shows tend to show up on pirate sites ~an hour and a half to two hours after the official release at the earliest. by the time my reply to this ask is published, i bet it'll be on a couple of those sites by now by searching shit like "rwby volume 9 episode 1 watch free online" lol

extensions like ublock origin can work on firefox on both mobile and desktop/pc, but unfortunately, it's exclusive to android phones, and i don't know what type of phone you use to help you further. extensions can't be enabled on mobile ios devices, and i'm only familiar with android and pc stuff :(

for anyone who wants to watch it legally, this is the official crunchyroll link to watch chapter 1 of rwby volume 9. as long as you have a premium subscription, you can watch in whenever you'd like. for those who cannot afford or don't want to pay for a crunchyroll premium subscription for whatever reason, one of my personal favorite much-less-legal sites to watch animated shows is 9anime. eventually, sites like soap2day and watchcartoononline will have it, as well, but you'd have to wait a bit longer for those.

#phew!#hope this answers your questions :D #sorry for the wordiness ahaha #Anonymous #ask box 360 #honorable mention to bflix[dot]ru because they almost always have subtitles #but alas... the recent episode isn't on that site yet either #i had to type my answer at school bc i have a class on saturday afternoons this semester #that mean i can't watch the episode until a few hours after it drops #people have been spoiling shit left and right with nothing for me to blacklist :(

12 notes · View notes

transmascnaotoshirogane · 2 years

Note

ok ykw ur so right bestie

#the rainbow twinks #rainbow ask box #rus 💞#📚⭐🍓🌈

7 notes · View notes

ari-hetaliafan · 1 year

Note

🌠 Orange ••

Thanks for the question

Hmmm... Given my boy's character, I think he would ask everyone to have a good loving family, because that's what he missed most of his existence.

But I think he could ask for something else as well, but not just for himself

#arina rus #arinatalk #arinanews #arinaask #blog ru and palette #ask box #thank you for asking!#orange!sans

5 notes · View notes

scandi-rose · 1 year

Text

Question

What sort of Au would you most like to see from me?

#ru rambles #replies or ask box

1 note · View note

genshinresource · 3 months

Text

Hey guys, this is kind of sudden but my time in genshinresource will end starting today. I've given a lot of thoughts about this but I can't find joy in Genshin anymore, to the point that I feel uncomfortable just by looking at any Genshin-related stuff, therefore I thought it would be best to stop now. Should anyone wants to make another Genshin resource blog or wants to look for other official art, you can find the source links for everything under this post's break line.

This blog will still be open for public view but it won't be updated any further, same goes for the AIO links and the Ask box will be disabled permanently. I will now fully focus on my Star Rail resource blog instead and will keep running it for as long as I can.

Thank you everyone for the past 2 years. I really appreciate all your thoughts and encouraging messages as well as all the new stuff I could learn from you guys. I apologize for not being able to contribute to the Genshin community anymore.

So long, everyone.

CN links:

Genshin's Miyoushe forum: https://www.miyoushe.com/ys/home/28 - Almost everything can be downloaded without the need of Miyoushe account except avatar frames and other account-related settings. The 资讯 tab is where they post all official art like birthday artworks, celebration artworks etc.

Official Genshin CN Bilibili: https://space.bilibili.com/401742377/dynamic

Official Genshin Weibo: https://weibo.com/ysmihoyo

Official Paimon's Work Note Bilibili: https://space.bilibili.com/1669328690/dynamic

Official Paimon's Work Note Weibo: https://weibo.com/pmmihoyo

Teyvat Fan Association's Bilibili: https://space.bilibili.com/1113861913/dynamic - This is where they post all stuff related to sponsored special fan-made programs like New Year Party, Birthday Party countdown artworks etc.

Global links:

Genshin's HoYoLAB forum: https://www.hoyolab.com/circles/2/27/official?page_type=27&page_sort=events.

HoYoFair's HoYoLAB forum: https://www.hoyolab.com/accountCenter/postList?id=244938673

Official Genshin Twitter EN | JP | KR | BR | ES | FR | TH | ID | RU

Official HoYoFair Twitter: https://twitter.com/HoYoFair_0

Official Paimon JP Twitter: https://twitter.com/paimon_genshin7

Official HoYoLAB Twitter: https://twitter.com/HoYoLAB_Mimo

Official Genshin Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/Genshin_Impact/

Official Genshin HoYoWiki: https://wiki.hoyolab.com/pc/genshin/home

Unofficial Genshin wiki: https://genshin-impact.fandom.com/wiki/Genshin_Impact_Wiki

Media-focused links:

HoYoWiki's Genius Invokation TCG cards: https://wiki.hoyolab.com/pc/genshin/aggregate/tcg_character

Official Genius Invokation TCG display page: https://act.hoyoverse.com/ys/event/e20221207-card-dhcksn/index.html

Official Genshin CN's version KV gallery: https://act.mihoyo.com/ys/event/community-content-collection/index.html#/wallpaper - recommended for CN logo KVs if you can't download from Baidu Wangpan

asddzr's Bilibili for upscaled art: https://space.bilibili.com/1550564/dynamic

景三尧's Weibo (another upscaler with great art quality): https://weibo.com/u/7654321688

For twins version birthday shorts, you can find a lot from Miyoushe forum by searching with CN character name + 生日 but it's best to bookmark user(s) who often post them, I usually went to this user's profile page for those.

#notice board

459 notes · View notes

a-twistedheartslonging · 1 month

Text

Sniff and Bite

Soft Yan, Scent kink, Biting, No sex but he's a little handsy and gets a boner

“Eh, Kitten? Think ya could help me with that box over there?”

Looking up from the book they were glancing at the cover off, they looked to the hyena who was currently tossing more of Leona’s dirty clothes into a hamper.

“Mmm? Yeah, sure thing Ruggie Senpai.”

“Just Ruggie.”

They paused, a soft laugh leaving them that had the beastmen flick his ears and look the side shyly.

“Yes, Ruggie.” They said, teasing in their tone.

Sitting up from the messy bed they made their way over to the box, full and random nick-nacks and rarely worm accessories that Ruggie had set aside.

They eyed it for a moment, trying to think of the best way to get the heavy box up while a certain hyena stared intently at their back.

With a hint of dramatic flair, they pushed up the sleeves of their baggy uniform shirt and crouched down to seal the top properly before digging their fingers into the edges of the bottom. They pulled it up into the air and caught it with a huff, muscles flexing, before heading to Leona’s closest.

Blueish-gray eyes dilate as they watch the human work.

Gazing from their back to their sweaty neck, his addam’s apple bobbed down with a swallow. The dorm was stiflingly hot and that long sleeve they were wearing wasn't helping at all. He couldn't help but salivate at the scent of their sweat.

Fuck, why they gotta smell so good?

His heart thundered in his chest as blood rushed downward, where he really didn't want it going. For months he had felt the need to watch them, to keep them close, to do...something. It brought out his baser instincts, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just nature telling him what he needed.

It is annoying, frustrating, and all-around inconvenient. Especially with all he already has on his plate, but maybe this could be something good, a reward even.

He deserves to finally have something nice after all.

With a slight stretch, they were finally able to get the heavy box onto the shelf. Backing out of the closet space they closed its door before letting out a yelp as Ruggie suddenly pressed into their back, trapping them against the closet door.

"Ruggie! Wha-" they started, cut off as calloused hands trailed up their bare arms. They felt his hot breath against their cheek and shivered at the feeling, tensing as he took a deep inhale. A hand slid to their neck, and gave a gentle squeeze, before moving to the front of their shirt and pulling down, buttons popping free as shoulders were exposed.

"Ru..ah...Ruggie..." they whimpered softly. The heat of his breath on their ear made them shudder as Ruggie pressed his face into the crook of their sweat-slicked neck.

"You smell so soft en' sweet..." he murmured, and they laughed awkwardly.

"Uh...thanks?"

A possessive growl rumbled in his throat as he ground against them, and they felt something hard press into their backside. Flustered, they tried to turn their head but stopped when Ruggie spoke again, voice a deep purr.

“Hey…”

They paused.

“Uhm…yes…?”

"Just.. .just a few licks and a bite. That would be okay, yeah?"

His voice had dipped into a purring lull, they couldn't help but flush and feel butterflies at his tone. His voice was also…slurred. They were a bit muddled about what he was asking.

Confused, they stammered "Wh-what do you mean?" before letting out a soft moan as sharp fangs dragged against their neck, followed by his hot tongue.

"Don't move..." he warned.

“Wh-” That's when they felt it. Letting out a squeal they felt sharp teeth sink into the tender flesh between their neck and shoulder.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #yandere #soft yan #twisted wonderland ruggie #suggestive #slight n/sfw #ruggie/reader

285 notes · View notes

boyfhees · 2 years

Text

WHEN YOU'RE JEALOUS

ft. oikawa, kuroo, tsukishima, suna, akaashi, osamu

w. don't know mate lmk if you spot any

OIKAWA

"what was that for?" you ask, pointing at the box of chocolates as he stuffs them in his bag. "oh these? i helped a classmate with one of the assignments so she wanted to thank me," oikawa replies, missing the sour look on your face. "yeah okay, let's go," albeit, it didn't take him long to notice the pout on your face as you walk a few steps ahead of him, unlike usually. "are you jealous?" he asks mockingly, nudging your shoulders. "am not," — "you are," — "am not," — "you are," — "i am not jealous, 'ru." he pauses, looking at you as you avoid eye contact with him. "then you wouldn't mind if i eat the chocolates, and help her more frequently, right?" you shoot him a glare, blinking away just as quickly before walking again. "yeah, whatever," — "see, you are jealous ! oh my god, and you called me lame for being jealous over that boy last week !"

KUROO

he may deny it, but kuroo gets jealous easily. it doesn't even have to be a human, you can fawn over a character and manage to get him jealous. of course, he's good at hiding it, but you're even better at catching on with the taunting remarks. so when he notices your glare possibly burning holes on the florists back, he knows it's his time to shine. "can i get your numbe—" she asks, only for you to cut in the next second. "no. my boyfriend doesn't have a phone," you blurt out, completely ignoring that kuroo has been holding his phone in his hand. he laughs, putting hand around your shoulders, "i'm sorry, apparently i don't have a phone." you're quick to leave the scene before he catches up to your pace, eyes sparkling with teasing remarks. "jealous now, are we?" he mocks, earning a scoff in return. "shut up," — "jealously is a disease, yn. get well soon."

TSUKISHIMA

one thing you didn't expect today was some random girl crash your date with tsukishima after he helped her with certain things. and while it's clear that she's thanking him but it has been ten minutes and you're growing impatient. ( not to mention, you've got bookings for a movie ) so, you just stand at the distance, watching him as he's trying his best to have his way out of the conversation. "by the way, do you have a s/o?" she asks, a little too loudly and kei has never seen you so raged, or to put it in better words, restless. "yeah, they're standing there." and with that, he walks up to you, drinks in his hands as he passes one to you. "maybe if you'd've helped me, you wouldn't have to wait so long," he snickers as you roll your eyes. "actually, i thought you wanted to watch the movie with her." — "are you jealous?" you know he doesn't need an answer to know that you are.

SUNA

fortunately, or actually unfortunately enough, for you, suna is no stranger to confessions, compliments, or even flirty remarks. and usually, he dismisses them knowing that you don't want to see people hitting on him. however, this time he was having a blast watching you glare at the barista as she flirted with him while he made the payments. "can we meet up sometime—" she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears which makes you roll your eyes and prompts you to interrupt the two. "no," you pause, standing next to suna. "my boyfriend isn't interested." you feel him chuckle next to him, brows furrowing at the sight of the barista breaking into giggles. "yeah no, pretty, it's a prank. just wanted to see your reaction," he clarifies, his words followed by a swift apology from the other girl as you snicker before pushing him away. "you suck," — "didn't see you complaining when she was asking me out."

AKAASHI

you feel your patience running thin with every second that akaashi spends with the girl from his physics class. it's not like you have a problem with him interacting with other people, but you do have a problem with her because she's clearly trying to flirt, very well aware that you're dating him. "keiji, shall we go?" you interrupt, lacing your hands with his. "let's meet on sunday—" she speaks but you beat her to it. "we're going on a date on sunday." cue akaashi going '???' with his eyes wide open because out of everything, a date was never on the list for weekends ( not like he complains, though ) good for you, she left without anymore questions, though with a bitter expression but you couldn't care less. "these people need to accept the truth that you're taken and stop flirting." you mumble, followed by his giggles as you send him a confused stare. "what's so funny?" and he laughs even more at your expression. "you're jealous." — "i'm not!" — "oh my god, you're jealous. i'm telling bokuto," he's isn't letting you live that down.

OSAMU

you've had enough of people confessing to him every other day, just because your relationship was private. well, it was your decision, and you already regret it. so when you spot another girl approaches him with a box of chocolates, you're quick to rush to the scene, wrapping your hands around his arms before shooting her a forced smile. "he appreciates the effort, but we're dating," first of all, he's shook because first, you're suddenly announcing the relationship publicly, and secondly, you're jealous, which is new for him. the girl leaves on her own accord after apologising, thankfully, and that's when osamu turns towards you, shooting a perplexed look. "you're jealous." you kind of dislike how he states it as matter of fact, especially with a straight face that morphs into a taunting expression within seconds. "what do you mean?" he chuckles at this newly found side of yours. "i just lost a bet with tsumu because i said you don't get jealous," — "you both made bets on this?" — "my money, yn."

4K notes · View notes

fairy-writes · 11 months

Note

FAIRY!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!! MAY MANY MORE COME!!! :O <3

May I request Edward Elric with the action propmpt 10? That would be awesome!! <3

APPLE PIES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Gender Neutral!Reader

Prompt: Putting their head on their lover’s shoulder (Action Prompt #10)

Notes: POST-FMAB EVENTS

AND THANK YOU RU

This is for my 1K followers event! It’s going on between June 8th and June 22nd!

__________________________________________________________________________

Even after all Father had put you through, some things never changed.

That thing being Edward’s obnoxious love for apple pies.

Specifically Gracia’s recipe. She had been kind enough to gift you and Winry the recipe years ago. The scrap of paper was well-loved and worn out, stained with butter, and the writing barely legible. But that didn’t matter. You knew the recipe by heart after years of making it for your lover.

Your forearms were covered in flour, and you were pretty sure you had something on your face as you worked butter into your dry ingredients. Your hands felt sticky with dough, but you didn’t mind. This would make Edward happy, and that alone made your day.

It always did.

Especially after all he had gone through growing up and through his young adult life.

You cracked an egg on the corner of the bowl and added it to the dough mixture, mixing everything by hand until you had the consistency you wanted. It had grown warm in the process, so you stuck it in the ice box to chill for at least an hour while you got to work on the filling.

Two tablespoons of lemon juice. Nine apples peeled, cored, and sliced into wedges. Both went into a bowl with some sugar and tossed until combined. Then a skillet was turned on, and everything was put in with more butter and mixed until the apples were soft. The scent of fruit filled the air, making your mouth water, and you felt giddy at the idea of eating the dessert later.

You may not have been Edward, but you still loved a good apple pie now and then.

Just then, warm arms wrapped around your waist, and a chin was put on your shoulder.

“What are you making?” Came Edward’s voice, and you hummed, leaning your head on his as you tossed the apples once again in the skillet. The sugar was melting. It was almost time.

“Apple pie. You asked for one last week.” You said warmly and felt him grin as he turned his head to place a kiss where your shoulder met your neck.

“You remembered?” At this, you huff out a laugh,

“Have I ever forgotten something?” You say, and he thinks it over, pecking your cheek this time.

“No. It’s like Ling said. Something about elephants never forgetting. Wait, no—Alphonse said that in one of his letters. He’s studying them with May Chang in between alkahestry lessons.” He said, tapping his fingers against your waist.

You gently pry his arms away from around you, ignoring his whine, and go to pull the dough from the fridge, turning off the stovetop as you do so.

“Now that you’re here, you can help me.” You say, and he raises an eyebrow,

“You’re trusting me in the kitchen? I thought I was banned after Valentine’s Day.” He says but grabs an apron from where it’s hanging on the wall nonetheless. You hold a finger up, smearing some flour on his nose,

“I’m trusting you with supervision. Don’t think I’ll let you in the kitchen with anything less than that. Alphonse can cook better than you, and he didn’t even have a body growing up!”

Edward mutters under his breath, something about how “that isn’t fair,” but he smiles at you nonetheless when he notices you watching him tie the apron.

“Like what you see?” He teases, and you offer a mischievous grin. “I always do.” You retort and delight in the way his cheeks flush a pretty pink.

You quickly put Edward to work with the dough from the ice box. You carefully instruct him how to make pie crust and are actually rather impressed with how they turn out. Soon, you have two perfectly constructed pie crusts ready to be filled.

Maybe you can actually trust your lover in the kitchen. But then you remember the burnt attempt at breakfast from Valentine’s Day.

Like you had said before, he’s allowed in the kitchen with supervision.

You blink and are torn from your thoughts when something is smeared on your cheek. You look up from where you are preparing the second pie to see Edward with that grin of his that means he’s up to no good. Egg yolk is coating his finger, and you assume that’s what he just put on your face.

“You're supposed to be brushing the pie. Not my face.” You say, and he laughs.

It’s one of your favorite sounds in the world.

“Just seeing if you’re paying attention.” He says, and you smile. His own grin softens as you step into his side, wrapping a flour-stained hand around his waist.

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, and he gently grasps your chin, turning you to face him, and kisses you so gently as if you’ll break. He tastes like stolen pie filling, but you don’t mind.

He’s so gentle with his love. He always has been.

It was one of the things you love about him.

And it was soft, domestic times like this that you treasured the most.

#edward elric x you #edward elric x reader #edward elric x y/n #fma edward x reader #fmab edward x reader #fma x reader #fma edward #fma edward elric #fmab edward #fmab edward elric #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist x reader #fairy writes #fairy 1000 followers

344 notes · View notes

mauvecherie-writes · 2 years

Note

when it’s been a while since Lewis and Y/N have seen each other and they can’t stop kissing and holding each other and they have ‘i miss you’ sex

18+ NSFW

From when he picks you up at the airport, you know that you wouldn’t be leaving the bedroom for days. He carries you from your terminal, you sat in his lap in the truck, sharing kisses and sweet whispers of “I love you” “I missed you.”

Then you get home and you don’t even make it to the bedroom, you drop on the couch, a haste attempt to remove clothes is made before you sink down on his cock.

“Fuck baby, I missed that feeling.” He sighs against your lips as you gyrate your hips in a lazy pace.

“I missed you inside of me.” You whimper as he picks you up and brings you down on him again and again, filling you and overwhelming every part of you. Your moans breathing life into him as you tighten your walls around his girth.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whispers against your lips.

You pick up your pace, being unrelenting, taking last bit of him as you milk him. You kiss along his neck as he thrusts into you.

“I missed doing that.” He smirks as he picks you up in his arms and walks to the bedroom for the next round …

ugh

#mauvecherie writes #lewis hamilton x black reader #ru ask box #ru asks #ru answers

113 notes · View notes

mdr-vert · 10 months

Text

Hi everyone!

I want to ask you all about this scene of SMB movie.

I’m Japanese. When I watched the subtitled version of this movie, ( ENG voice and JP sub)

I thought Luigi was saying “You just got, a-Luigi’d!” or “You just got ha-Luigi’d” .

Please tell me WHAT IS HAPPENING IN ENG GRAMMAR IN HIS CHARMING JOKE and what he really said!!😂

It is too difficult for my poor English to understand what he saying.

Please teach me about this using ask box or reblog pleeeeeeeeease😭😭😭😭😭

BTW, in Japanese,

Luigi said “Yaru toki wa, ya-Luigi sa! (やるときは、やルイージさ！) .

Yaru toki wa yaru (やるときはやる) means,

“He can get things done when he has to do”.

Japanese do not distinguish between sounds of R and L.

So for us, “ru” sound of “yaru” and “lu” sound of “Luigi” is the same.

Luigi puts the two together and jokes about it by saying “ya-Luigi”.

The meaning of the JP version of this dialogue goes like this.

“I, Luigi, am a guy who does things when I have to do! “

I really love Luigi being full of himself🥹🥹🥹

Also I have to understand that what Mario bros said before they were going to head to flooded Brooklyn…

#fanart #luigi #mario bros #the super mario bros movie #mario & luigi #super mario movie #smb movie #smb mario #smb #mario bros fanart #luigi fanart #mario movie fanart #smb luigi #super mario bros movie

372 notes · View notes

celenawrites · 9 months

Text

The House of the Rising Sun - I

Summary -

Running to the enemy territory, asking for help was foolish.

It was even more foolish of you to think that their help will not cost you anything.

Note -

This is a first draft with minimum/no edits.

Updates will be slow due to a multitude of reasons.

No Y/N.

Reader is female, for the most part.

Chapter Summary -

You make a deal.

word count - 4.8 k

warnings - slow-ish build up, violent descriptions, threats, sexism, cursing, etc.

AO3 version

God, you were stupid.

You had been told so your entire life - by your parents for believing you will be the master of your own fate, writing your life the way you want it to be; by your peers for wishing something different because they couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to run away from such a lavish, fulfilling life; and by your ‘beloved’ for even thinking that you’d be anything more than a fever dream rendition of ‘50s Stepford wife that he would occasionally bring out to galas and parties in tight dresses that showed off your bosom a bit too much, hoping to curry favors with like-minded bastards who leered at you with heady eyes and hands itching to cop a feel of you.

You feel the shame that comes with making the wrong choice - you can feel your ears burn and your eyes sting with tears, can feel your tongue turn to lead and your mouth dry up as if it’s filled with cotton. You inhale deeply, and you feel your throat bob painfully as you greedily gulp in any amount of air you can get in the clammy warehouse.

It’s either this or getting locked in a cage forever.

You didn’t even think of making a getaway the moment those men decided to bind your hands tightly and covered your head with a sack, cutting off your connection from the outside world entirely as they abducted you, hoping to get high praise from their boss for such a pretty catch. You feel your spine creep up with goosebumps as their disgusting hands touch you and manhandle you, forcing you to lie down in what you assume to be the trunk of the car. The sack over your head does a good job at hindering your sight, making it impossible to note the car or its license plate.

You stay stuck, occasionally moving and bumping around in the claustrophobic space and you can only pray to God that you make it out of this ordeal alive.

For what feels like hours, you let your body sway with the movement of the vehicle and feel the extra tyres dig into your ribs at every bump or pothole, helpless to do anything at all. Eventually, the car comes to a stop and you are grateful that the constant moving and the smell of petrol didn’t make you spill your guts out in the back of the car, the sack over your head promising nothing but a pitiful death by choking on your own vomit.

The trunk is opened and you are pulled upright, and all you are thankful for is that you are out of that closed box of a space and you can finally breathe. You feel disgust at the sweat that coats you, but sigh out in relief as the soft breeze caresses your skin as it cools your body. You do not resist as you are forced to walk, hearing nothing but a few uncomprehensive murmur behind you as your ears buzz and your mind screams at you to RUN RUN RUN RUN RU-

You shove that line of thought somewhere back in your mind, somewhere unreachable because you know, you fucking know that if you even slightly move in a way that seems threatening, these guys will not hesitate to empty their guns into your body.

They just need an excuse for it anyway.

You have decided to not give them that.

You feel the creaky metal doors slam shut behind you, the noise reverberating in your ears; your lack of sight heightening your other senses, making you undergo a sensory nightmare of sorts as you try your best to survive in the unknown territory.

You come to a stop, and feel someone guide you with their hand over the small of your back - the touch nauseating you, flashes of unpleasant memories making you shiver in fear and rage, and it is almost enough for you to strangle the guy; if not for your bound hands and the threat of death imminent in the air.

One of the goons takes it upon himself to grab your arm, hard enough to dig it into your skin - a promise full of bruises and malice. Then he guides you roughly a few steps forward, before pushing you down on a chair. He unties your hand, and you barely get a second of soothing your reddened wrists before he’s tying you to the arms of the wooden chair with ropes that dig into you. He does the same with your legs, and it’s not long until your body is bound to the chair you’re sitting on. The ropes are thick, and you resignedly accept your defeat when it’s due - knowing that you clearly don’t have the strength to break out of your binds. You can only hope that these people at least have the decency to hear you out before they discard your body down the river.

You feel the gun press against your temple, the gunny sack over your head doing nothing to cushion the pressure on your head. You can only hope that the safety is on, or the guy with the gun is not too trigger happy. You don’t want to paint your brains out on the grimy floor anyway.

It’s just a precautionary measure, you console yourself.

You won’t get shot. Not yet.

You are disoriented by your surroundings when your sack is pulled over your head, exposing you to the people around you. The few white lights dangling over you blind you, and the ropes are already chafing against your sweaty skin, and the white bodycon dress sticks to you, already dirtied by the grime and the dust you have encountered along the way.

I must be a sight for sore eyes, you think sarcastically, blinking away the pain to take in the men standing before you.

You have heard of them. Of course, you have. You do not stay a part of your family without knowing about the infamous 141. The elite of the elite in the dark, dirty business your family partakes in. People rarely see them, some even wish on shooting stars to get a meeting of a lifetime with the members of 141 - some of the finest, richest men in England’s mafia. Almost all of the sea routes belong to them, allowing them to easily smuggle in arms, drugs and more into the Queen’s dear country. Allies of 141 benefit from their profits, and are even offered protection. Relation to 141 meant only one thing for people - pure, absolute power over everything.

Your father had once hoped to be a part of this organization. He had endlessly tried to impress them, wishing nothing more than a lick of the power they held in their scarred, steady hands - all of the lies, deceit and illusions failing him, as he ultimately couldn’t carve a place for himself in the group. This failure of his made him jaded, angry at the world and the rest of your family for this unfair transgression committed against him. Finally, he planned to use you as a pawn to expand his power, forging an alliance in marriage with an ally that has always served as a thorn in the side to the chagrin of 141.

Enemy of my enemy…

You partly blame them for your sorry state, half-heartedly wishing that they would’ve entertained your mercurial father for just a little longer so you could elope with your friends and leave the country, never to return. However, the thought of that madman having the power to influence all of England always left a bad taste in your mouth.

The men in front of you are the most powerful men in all of England. Possibly one of the most powerful men in the continent of Europe even. The four men are dressed to the nines, a stark contrast to the filthy warehouse you’re stuck in, and you cannot help but look up at them with aching eyes, staring at them in awe and reverence.

The man with the skull mask draws your attention first, leaning against a table you missed to take note of earlier. He’s dressed in all black - a black coat over a white shirt that hugs his wide shoulders tightly, and you cannot miss the brown holster against his hip, his hands in the pockets of his black pants. You cannot deny that you’re intrigued about him and all that he hides behind that mask of his. His eyes, looking like two brown dots from where you sit, size you up - highly alert and ready to swiftly get rid of you, if it comes down to it.

Your eyes shift a little to the right and you find yourself staring at a majestic man. He’s dressed in a three-piece, along with a well-groomed beard, and his dark hair is combed back, not a strand out of place. He’s old enough to be your daddy, but by God, he looks like someone who could ruin you. The men behind you bow down in reverence and you can only assume that he’s the ringleader of this circus show - a dangerous circus show where you’re most likely to lose your life.

The man standing to his right seems to look closer to your age - dark, tall, slim with a pretty face and full lips. His curly hair seems to have a mind of its own, letting a coil or two loose on his face, which he quickly tucks behind his ears swiftly. What draws you in the most are his eyes - dark and mischievous, carrying a brightness in them that you can only recall in childhood photos and you almost feel envious as your own has dulled down over the years.

And the man beside you speaks, “You alright?” and your concentration shifts to him. Your eyes widen a bit, surprised to not notice him before - with his accent and mohawk and kind eyes that crinkle a bit when he looks at you, his visage directly blessed by a Hellenistic deity whose name you have long forgotten.

You drop your gaze to look at your lap, embarrassment creeping up on you like invasive ivies - you probably look out of place, with your white dress and the way you gaped at them probably gave them something to laugh about after they’re done getting rid of your body today. You do not reply just yet, your hammering heart making it hard to focus on them and the barrage of questions.

You have been ill-prepared.

You ran away on a whim, with nothing but the bare necessities packed up. You had not expected to make it this far, straight in the heart of your mortal enemies’ lair. You had focused so much on leaving without a trace, that you had forgotten to cook up a half-baked story that could satiate the natural curiosity of the 141.

They have been something out of a fairytale for you, a fable used to scare people into subservience. And yet, these godly men stand before you, grace your unworthy eyes to admire their visage until you’re ultimately slaughtered like a lamb for wandering too deep into their territory.

You wait and in turn make the men around you wait for an answer - something, anything really; and with each second passing by, you cannot help but give into the panic that’s taking control of your frail body. Your lungs burn, and no matter how deeply you breathe, you just cannot seem to soothe the ache within you.

Maybe I’m having a heart attack, you think earnestly. If I die right this instant, I will not have to deal with my family. Or my betrothed. Or with 141.

However, fate has often been cruel to you.

The man with the mohawk notices your shortened breath, instantly alarmed at your worsening state.

“Oi, Ghost. Pass me the bottle”, he asks, and through bleary eyes you notice him catch a flying plastic bottle in his hands. With gentle fingers, he grabs your chin and tilts your head up until your eyes meet his. His fingers rub gentle circles into your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He gently urges you, “Open ya mouth for me, hen. Drink up”.

Suddenly parched and unable to handle the multiple eyes on you, you silently comply as you tilt your head back and open your mouth. He gently presses the bottle to your lips, allowing you to take slow, sure sips from it. Some of it trickles down, wetting the neck of your dress but you can hardly care as you gently lean back as his fingers slowly play with your hair, sending pleasant tingles down your spine - almost enough to make you whimper in relief.

After a while, when he deems it enough, he retracts the bottle from you and caps it, putting it down near the foot of the chair. You compose yourself, silently berating yourself for letting these men see you at such a low point - so weak and vulnerable.

But no more of that.

The small reprieve offered by the man standing nearby gave you enough time to compose yourself - enough time to cook up a story that will save you from showing all your cards on the table. You can only hope that by the time you’re finished with this ordeal and have gathered enough resources, you can finally make your getaway far away from here.

God knows you’d kill for a vacation right about now.

Your eyes meet his again, and he smiles down on you kindly, deciding this is a good time as any to finally introduce himself to you.

“I’m Soap. Lassie, dae ye hev any idea aboot where ye’re?”

Weird name, but you nod your head nonetheless. You don’t know where exactly you have landed up, but you do know that you’re in their territory, with no allies to support you or protect you.

The very thought of it terrifies you.

“So, ye dae ken who 141 is?”, he asks again, and you nod your head in confirmation as you finally recognize his accent as somewhere from up north in Scotland.

“Why are you here then?” a deep voice with a Manchester accent asks you, and your eyes flutter across the room until they land on the masked man again. The distance along with his mask makes it near impossible to gauge what he’s thinking, how he’s looking at you - but you can wager a solid guess.

He’s probably looking at you with distrust, like you’re a skittering deer caught in headlights - about to run off to god knows where if given the chance. He’s thinking about how shady you are, how you need to be vetted before they even entertain you and your potential sob story or how he itches to shoot you in the head with the gun he has kept in his holster.

Frankly enough, you don’t give two fucks about his thoughts.

“You’re 141, and I have valuable information. Information that can help you gain access to parts of England you constantly fight over with other gangs”, you speak up, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear you. You are surprised that your voice doesn’t crack, your eyes don’t shy away from the heated look the skeleton-wearing man throws your way.

The leader straightens up, asking you what you have been dying to hear ever since you stepped foot in London.

Finally.

“And what do you want from us for that?”

“Protection.”

It isn’t long till you are untied from the chair by Soap, finally rubbing your raw hands - cringing at how your wrists ache and your feet are no better, but you leave them be. You thank him for untying you, finally ‘free’ to walk on your own as you are escorted by him and by his masked companion to a black Mercedes-Benz 200. Soap is kind enough to open the door for you, letting you sit at the back of the car. He closes the door and goes around the vehicle, finally taking his seat as the driver. You look out the window, wondering where the other man would sit - beside Soap or beside you.

Your query is answered when you hear the car door opposite to you slam shut, watching him warily as the hulk of a man climbs inside and adjusts himself, sitting carefully to not bump his head onto the roof of the Benz. The car hums to life as Soap finally inserts the key into the ignition, dabbling with the manual shaft and finally driving - enroute to a new, unknown destination.

The skull-face (a nickname your brain supplied you with) looks at you pointedly, and you finally look back at him after what felt like a millennia of him burning holes into your skull.

“What?” you snide, clearly with no energy or tact to be bashful around the man who is totally capable of breaking your bones with his bare hand.

He nods, and it draws your attention to the little blindfold he’s held in his hands.

You groan out, not ready to return to the shadows just yet.

“Not again”, you almost whine out, turning around so your back faces him and you wait for his deft hands to cover your world with darkness again.

“Gotta have to, love”, you hear Soap say as his steady hands steer the wheel around and work the manual shift to change gears, “Protocol says so. It’s just for newcomers, ain’t it, Ghost?”.

The man behind you grumbles but refuses to grace his partner with a response.

So he’s called Ghost.

You grumble slightly before crossing your arms like a petulant child, but not before making a sarcastic quip.

“If you’re going to get kinky with that blindfold on me, at least take me out to dinner first”.

You let out a sigh as you feel the dark piece of cloth tighten around your eyes, and you can hear Soap guffaw out loud.

“That’s a good one, lassie!”, he laughs, and you feel the car turn slightly as he drives on the road, feeling a few bumps along the way.

Ghost scoffs a little at your little snide - it’s lighthearted and breathy, and it seems like you may have just won the lottery by winning his approval.

It’s small but it’s a start.

“And if you’re worried about dinner”, Ghost speaks, and you jump slightly at the sudden sound he makes.

“If you survive the night, you might be able to get some after all”.

After what seems like a drive of thirty minutes, the car finally comes to a stop and you’re glad for that.

The silence had been comfortable, it gave you time to think and process all that has happened so far. But you’re also eager to get the blindfold off your face and finally see where these men have ‘escorted’ you to.

Feeling your anxiety, Ghost graciously takes off the piece of cloth over your eyes, and you blink dumbly, trying to get your bearings about you. He gets out of the car, before walking around it and opening your door for you.

What a gentleman.

You climb out of the vehicle, finally looking at what was in front of you.

Despite being a mafia heiress and witnessing luxury of all levels, you look at the mansion in front of you with a reverence unmatched - unable to believe that this is where one of 141 possibly lives here, or operates from.

The grandeur of this place is indescribable. The mansion is Victorian, and is surrounded by acres of grassland, laid with concrete routes that you’re currently walking on. There is a fountain across the main door of the mansion, and in the center of the water pool stands Aphrodite, her marble figure adding a touch of classicism to it. She looks serene, despite her residence being among the tumultuous water of a fountain. There are roses growing around the marble piece, surrounding the deity with color - almost as if these flowers have been planted as an offering to her.

It is a lovely sight. You wish you could look at her forever.

And yet you move onwards, leaving behind the goddess of love behind you, sneaking a final glance at her as the wooden door closes behind you.

There’s an ache that settles in the middle of your chest as you follow the two men inside, mourning your past and yet awaiting the future ahead of you.

The study room is majestic.

Walls are covered with shelves filled with thick books. You can recognize some of the classics kept there, mainly Russian literature that talked of death and human suffering. There is a red loveseat to your left, with a small coffee table with a glass top. And to your right, you can find a small cabinet, locked and untouched, as it collects dust in the large room.

You see the leader of 141, Jonathan M. Price, sitting in his leather chair, reading a file laid out on the oak table. He looks like he belongs here - regal and untouchable. And you almost feel out of place in your dirtied dress, and you’re certain that the sack over your head has messed up your hair now.

The fact that he looks attractive as fuck, sitting and reading with his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his strong arms, does not help you. At all.

You wait until he finally looks up and notices you standing between his men. He gives them a look, and they both leave you. You feel Soap gently pat your shoulder as he closes the door behind him, following his companion out.

“So, why should I not throw you out for the police to find you?”

That’s the first thing he says to you, his eyes scrutinizing you as he gets up from his seat, walking until he’s at most half a dozen steps away from you. One of his hands picked up the glass of scotch on the table, sipping it with narrowed eyes.

You gulp a little at the unspoken threat - at the hidden promise of delivering your body in pieces at the threshold of your childhood home, at the implication that if the next words that come out of your mouth doesn’t satisfy him, you won’t walk out of this room alive.

“I know how to help you. I promise. The information I have is valuable”, you speak, feeling your chest swell with pride when you don’t stutter your words, when you don’t cower in fear in front of the dangerous mafia leader, when you don’t get on your knees and beg him to spare you.

“And the price is what, protection? Do you think I’m daft?” he raises his voice, and now you cannot help but flinch a little.

“Take a gamble, sir. It won’t hurt to try someone new for change”, you bargain with him, hoping that he’ll take the bait. You’d both win if he did.

There’s silence in the air, and you take this as permission to present your case before your metaphorical judge, hoping to persuade him from not condemning you to death and striking his gavel down.

“Just once. Give me a chance this one time. I won’t let you down, sir”, you almost beg, and you see his eyes waver - just a little bit, and that is enough for you to keep going.

“I’ll tell you something that’ll help you out, and if I’m right, you give me a fair chance. Keep me here, safe and protected. And if I fool you….”, you feel your stomach drop as you finish:

“You are allowed to do whatever you wish with me”.

You wait now.

He doesn’t speak for a few moments, and your agitation doesn’t help your restlessness. Your leg bounces in its place as you look at Mr. Price, unsure of what is going on inside that dangerous, beautiful brain of his. And when you finally open your mouth to say something, anything really - he beats you to it.

“What’s your name, girl?”

Your brain struggles with the sudden interest in what you’re called, and you wait a beat too long to answer him with an alias(“Marie”, you call yourself and all Price does is look at you like he doesn’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth). That makes you look suspicious. Fuck.

But you have been suspicious all up to now, you might as well keep up for now.

Moreover, they’d get off your back when you prove yourself right.

Or you’d buy yourself just enough time to run away again.

You’ve been getting better at that now.

After you tell him all that you can, making sure to keep the more sensitive information under wraps for now - for everyone’s sake really, you look at him as Price nods, gently rubbing his forehead and now he looks almost forlorn, the stress of running an illegal empire taking a toll on his body and soul. He looks older now, frailer somehow - and in this moment, you almost feel sorry for him.

“Fine, I’ll entertain you for now”, he breathes out, and you almost find yourself crying from joy.

You almost contemplate getting on your knees and bowing down to him to show your gratitude, but you do no such thing. Instead, you offer him a small smile and you don’t fail to notice how he drinks it all up like heady ambrosia.

But his next words force you to stay on your guard:

“But if you do anything suspicious, make sure I don’t notice. ‘Cuz I’m not as forgiving as I look”.

Price quickly dismisses you, now tired and in no mood to entertain his new guest, as he calls upon one of the men from the warehouse to show you ‘your room’.

Kyle(That’s the name of the young, pretty man) silently escorts you to a room on the third floor of the house, and despite following your escort with sharp eyes as you take a note of everything that interests you or stands out, you still find it hard to memorize the layout of this place.

He stands before a teak wood bifold door, and he opens the door for you to walk inside. Before he leaves you to your devices, he kindly informs you, “Dinner will be at 8. It won’t be hard to find the dining hall”.

And then he’s gone.

He has been apprehensive about your provisional arrangements; you had seen the look he sent to his leader when Price asked him to show you the room you’d be staying in.

You know he doesn’t like it any more than you do, but you’re touched at the hospitality he’s extending towards you - a temporary white flag for the unstable truce you have established between yourself and 141.

You take in the room with a white bed and white sheets, with sparse decoration and a cleanliness you can never find in someone’s room.

So this is a guest room.

You find your bag to be there, and you wonder if Price or Kyle asked someone to leave your belongings here. The bag looks untouched for the most part, and the tightness in your chest lightens a bit at that.

You think about taking a bath and changing into the spare clothes you packed in the duffel bag in a hurry. You think about going out and exploring the place, thinking of all the secrets you can soak up into your being.

But you’re so tired.

The clock hanging on the wall tells you it’s a little past 6, and you have some time before dinner will be served. You think of your bruised body, and your sore wrists and the headache that’s blooming across your temples, about how hard it is to keep your eyes open and look around you.

You look at the soft bed, and think how it won’t be too bad to rest for just a little.

In the bed, under the soft covers, you think of everyone you left behind. Your power-hungry father, who is probably going off the walls, swearing to kill you with his own hands when he sees you next. Your ignorant little brother, who’s been sent to America to study business at Harvard. Your betrothed who has quite possibly become the butt of the joke overnight.

You are scared of how he’s feeling, about what he must be planning for you, should you ever make the mistake of returning back to him.

(You’d rather the 141 kill you and dump your body under the bridge, brutalized and scarred beyond recognition.)

And your poor mother, who will now deal with the repercussions of your actions.

For her, you cry.

fin.

NOTE -

*Reader doesn't use her real name, she uses an alias but it will be temporary and rare. (probably)

Also it was tougher for me to describe the places and furniture more than writing the overall plot, etc.

And I'm posting this late at night, so any errors are the responsibility of future Cel.

198 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Special Interest 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

Note: this one is a bit longer than I anticipated!

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You have everything neatly tucked into a box for your delivery. You're anxious, more so to get it done and over with, than to meet the demanding buyer. Your mother finishes up and hurries you to get ready. You can’t help but take your time.

You bring another box, this one full of parcels to be sent out. After dropping those off, you’re back in the car hug the last order in your lap. Your mother pulls into the lot, just behind the garden center outside, now selling wreaths and pine trees in lieu of the season bulbs and petals.

You get out and check your phone. Your mom comes around to read over your shoulder. You keep an arm around the box as you lean it against the car. You bring up your Etsy messages.

‘Think I got here early. In the garden center checking out the garlands.’

“Oh, great,” your mother says, “we won’t have to waste too much time.”

“Mhmm,” you agree and bring your other arm around the box, pressing your phone to it as you follow her.

She doesn’t wait as she walks along the wall of the garden centre and dips through the door. You catch up inside, nearly bouncing off of her as you hold the box ahead of you. She squeals and points out a shelf of ornaments made of pine cones. You humour her with a smile and hum.

“Those are cute, mom, but we’re not here to shop,” you huff as you peer around.

That woman in the patchwork jacket looks like a farmer. She has the square jaw of a real hard lady. You know she’d probably best you in any physical combat. You meet her eye, tilting her head in question, ‘are these your crochet goods? Huh? Did you make me come all the way down here?’

She frowns and quickly turns away. Alright, not her but you’ve definitely creeped her out. You glance back at your mom as she ogles the ornaments. You wonder how she manages to work from home effectively.

“Excuse me, uh, SashayCrochet? Um, I think that’s for me?” A voice draws you back to face the rows of trees and hanging wreaths. You almost fall over as you recognize the man approaching you. No flipping way. “Hey,” he points at you in a similar epiphany.

“Uh, Farmer’s Delight?” You grimace.

“That’d be me,” he smiles. He’s wearing the same tan jacket, you note the stain by the pocket, “thanks for meeting me here.”

“Uh huh,” you squint at him. What a gosh dang diddly darn coincidence this is. “Here, everything’s there. Have a good day.”

“Oh, wow,” he sputters as you push the box against his stomach, slowly placing his hands on the corners. “Do you mind if I check to make sure or–”

You hold back a sneer. You can’t believe this. You had a bad feeling all along. You somehow don’t think this is fate. You think this guy has a problem. Why would he needs a lady’s magenta cap and matching mitts?

“Honey,” your mom finally catches on to the scene behind her, “oh, is this him?”

“Um, hello,” the weirdo smiles at her, “yeah, uh, it’s me. Cole.”

He offers his hand as he shifts the box under his arm. Your mother shakes his hand and nearly vibrates in excitement. She loves finding a new mark for her unending small talk. They deserve each other.

“Cole, that’s such a cute name,” she rescinds her hand, holding it over her chest coyly, “matches you well.”

“Mom,” you growl, raising your chin defiantly at Cole the creep, “I included an invoice so you can see everything’s there. Go ahead and check, we have things to do.”

“Honey, don’t be so rude,” your mother chides, “so, Cole, you live on a farm?”

He sets the box down on the corner of a table and shuffles through the contents. You stay where you are as your mom steps closer. You wonder if she sees the silver in his beard and just thinks that’s some festive touch. He’s ancient.

“Yeah, my parents’ place. I help out. As much as I can.”

“Oh, wow, I always dreamt of living out in the country but I’m too much of a busy body. The city is where I belong,” she preens, “but my daughter, she’s loves being at home. Don’t you, honey?” She beckons to you but you don’t move. “Spends all her time making this stuff,” she motions to the box.

“It’s very nice,” he says as he admires the beret style cap, “good handiwork. Talented.”

“Yes, a good hobby,” your mom insists, “not so useful as working the field, I’m sure.”

He chuckles, “yeah, I guess, but it takes all sorts.” He lifts the box up again, “my mother is going to love all this. Her birthday’s just around the corner and I didn’t really wanna walk in with another gift store teddy bear.”

“Too sweet,” your mom chimes, “any mother would be so lucky. Honey, get over here.” She reaches back blindly and grabs your arm, forcing you up next to her, “she always makes me something pretty for the holidays but you can only really have so many socks and scarfs.”

“Mom,” you snarl again, glowering at Cole as amusement dimples in his cheek.

“Actually, uh, I was just coming from the market. I have a booth there. I sell plants, so, uh, I have some in my car. If you wanna have a look. You can have one for free… some probably won’t last that much longer,” he suggests.

“Oh, plants! I love plants. And with this weather, everything’s so grey,” your mother trills. “We’d love to have a look.”

You almost hiss at her again but you don’t want to argue, not in front of this man. He smiles and leads her out of the garden center. You trail behind reluctantly. Your mother glances over her shoulder and snaps her fingers at you. You come up behind her and lean in close.

“Mom,” you whisper, “do you really think we should follow this stranger to his car?”

“Stranger? He’s so nice.”

“You said two words to each other.”

“Don’t be so cynical,” she snaps back, lowering her voice as she talks out the side of her mouth, "he's gorgeous."

He takes her to a pale blue truck and opens the back door, he tucks the box on the floor and steps back, gesturing to the back seat. You furrow your brow at your mom. She is easy pickings.

“You can have a look. Mostly cacti,” he shrugs.

“Don’t mind if I do,” your mom steps up and peeks into the back seat.

You can see the edge of a cardboard tray as she moves around the small pots. You stay a few feet back and cross your arms. Cole edges towards you.

“I guess… we’re running into each other so I can apologise,” he says, keeping his voice notably low, “about the bookstore.”

“Huh, bookstore? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m being nice. I just wanna make it up for you. Why don’t you take a plant too?”

“I don’t have much of a green thumb. I’d rather knit my plants,” you sneer.

“You mean crochet,” he corrects you. You look at him sharply and he lifts his brows plaintively, “I’m learning, see?”

“Mom,” you put your hand up as if to say ‘talk to the hand’ and block him out, “hurry up. We gotta grab that thing for dad. Remember?”

“Great, I’m heading inside too,” Cole says, “they have some sod in stock and I need some chicken wire.”

“I like this one,” you mother shows a prickly cactus with a little red cushion on top, “and wonderful, you might know what this is,” she fishes out her phone with her free hand, “something for the sink. My husband sent me a link…”

You die a little as your mother shows him the web page. Of course she can’t just let him go. She can’t let you get out of this. She thinks this guy with his dumb blue eyes and sandy brown hair is some sort of Prince Charming.

“Maybe I’ll just wait in the car,” you say.

“Oh, honey, don’t be silly, it’s too cold for that.”

Cole looks at her phone, “oh, I know exactly where those are. One sec.”

He shuffles past her to shut his truck door. You glare at your mom but she doesn’t notice, she’s completely enamored with this tall hunk of weirdo. Whatever, you’ll have to sneak away and hide in the pet section and daydream about the puppy you never got.

#cole turner #dark cole turner #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #special interest #series #ghosted #drabble #au #bookstore au

111 notes · View notes