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cloudywriting05 · 3 months

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one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.”

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal.

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed.

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him.

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?”

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself.

“So why did you do it?”

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge.

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him.

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today.

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.”

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking.

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.”

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?”

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.”

“Perfect.”

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after.

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled.

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.”

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.”

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do.

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.”

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you.

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support.

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?”

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin.

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation.

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above.

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair.

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.”

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain.

“You wanna feel me?”

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy.

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit.

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

#coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #ballads of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tbosas #snow #coriolanus x you #peeta x reader #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #Lucy gray #coriolanus x sejanus

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anundyingfidelity · 7 months

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PRIVATE LESSONS – Sanji x female reader

Summary: on what is supposed to be another of your private cooking lessons, you and Sanji get closer... in a very intimate way.

Pairing: Sanji x female reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: pure fucking, dirty, obscene fingerfucking smut, some plot, heavy hand kink, eye contact, language (also reader thinks herself as a slut at some point), fingering, cum play(?), semi-public, praising, pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl...).

Notes: this is just full of smut so yeah. Idk, this is my realization that I am a Sanji whore. Enjoy you sinners. And I'm sorry for any errors as English is not my main language. (I'll keep apologizing for this lol).

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Probably will make a part 2 to consumate this shit, but I can't promise I will...

GEN MASTERLIST!

Months ago, you started at the Baratie as a waitress but your biggest wish was cooking. And Sanji was there to help you with that. You had absolutely no idea how to start, lucky for you, the blonde chef of the restaurant was aware of your dreams. So you started lessons after your shift.

"Can't deny the wishes of a pretty thing like you," you remembered Sanji saying when you finally asked him to teach you. He winked and put a playful smirk on his lips.

Yes, Sanji was a flirt - but he was a flirt with everyone. So you never took personally his random comments and hits, until you started your cooking classes.

The Baratie was always closed and there was no one but Sanji and you in the kitchen. He had started with the basic stuff, like chopping vegetables and soft meat, and making easy entries and sidedishes.

There was a problem though. This was almost the fourth week you were receiving his lessons and you found out there was something distracting you a lot recently: his hands.

His beautiful, strong hands, that, in a delicate manner, would slice a fish and would convert it in the most delicious dish you ever tasted ever. You became so immersed in his hands doing little to nothing. Even if Sanji wasn't cooking, just fixing his hair or having a cigarrette, everything you could keep your focus on was his beautiful fingers, sometimes wearing pretty rings and jewels around them. And the way the veins on his big hands would appear... Gods, your mind started to wonder a lot of things and it was becoming difficult keeping your focus on the special salad you were preparing that night.

"You're doing great, love," Sanji whispered, staying right behind you and monitoring carefully your chopping like an inspector.

His sweet words were no help for you at all. With a deep breath, you finished with the last eggplant. Sanji immediately came closer and leaned behind your back, and you controled the loud gasp that was about to burst. You felt his strong body pressed against your own, and he suddenly grabbed your hand still holding the knife to start chopping a small piece of the eggplant you just finished. His arms were now sorrounding your figure as he guided softly on how you were supposed to cut it.

"Just make sure to cut them like this, see?"

All you could give was a nod. Fuck, you felt so embarrassed, hypnotized by his hands working on the must mundane activities in the whole world, grabbing firmly the knife between his fingers.

Those thick fingers you fantasized about late at night; not letting you pay attention to the important things Sanji would say to you about cooking. Those fingers you wished to have inside you right now, to lick them, to suck on them until they were completely dry... You rub your thighs together and try to keep your thoughts locked to continue with the lesson.

"Yeah, I see now. Thanks, Sanji," you were surprised you were actually able to talk.

You heard his chuckle behind you before shifting and come by your side, leaving you free of his grip and the warmth of his hands that you were already missing.

"Lets plate then."

Sanji guided you on how to place each ingredient on the bowl, making it harder for you to follow his pace. It took longer than you expected, but you were trying to keep your shit together; your skirt and shirt suddenly felt too tight on your figure and you tried to not rub your thighs, even if you wished for some friction right now.

Once the bowl was done, Sanji took the small plate with the sauce you prepared earlier and gave it a delicate taste, licking the spoon with his tongue.

Why did he look so hot just by doing anything? Was he aware of the effect he had in you lately? Was he teasing you? Or where you just hot and bothered already? No answer you had for any of those questions.

Sanji wrinkled his brows, savoring the sauce with such delicacy, and after a moment or so of thinking he looked at you.

"I think something is missing," he said.

"What? I put everything that was on the recipe for the sauce." In a swift move, you took the spoon from his hand and had a taste yourself. "Seems okay for me."

The chef tsked. "Darling, you need to taste it differently. Deeper, go further than usual."

Sanji dipped his forefinger on the sauce and brought it to your lips. With hesitation, you opened your mouth and licked the sauce from his finger, not only tasting the sauce but savouring the moment. Was he aware of how you looked at his hands? You were not going to question it. Not when you carefully wrapped your soft lips around him, closing your eyes slowly, arousal building up between your legs. His words were no help either, it was like if he was testing the waters and so were you.

You felt Sanji pulling out his finger from your mouth and you let out a soft moan. You wanted to snap yourself. He smirked, he obviously heard your pretty noise.

"Sorry..." you were ashamed but the burning desire was growing and winning over you. What a fucking slut, you thought to yourself. It didn't matter right now. You just had a taste of his fingers.

"So what'd you say?" Sanji interrupted the voice inside your head.

Your dark eyes looked intensely his charming blue ones. "I still think the taste is good."

Sanji leaned down, almost brushing your lips and looking like if he was forcing himself to not press his lips to yours right there and then. Until he did. He captured your lips in a heated and rough kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and tasting the sauce and the sweetness of your plump lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other pulled you closer, forcing your back to press against the counter. Now, you were trapped between his body and the surface.

A moan escaped your throat and Sanji happily swallowed it on the heated make out session you shared. He lifted you up so you were sitting on the empty side of the counter, taking shallow breaths, as he stood between your parted legs, stroking the skin of your thighs without any rush.

"I've noticed you look at my hands so attentively," he mumbled, biting your lower lip softly. You gasped, but he continued. "Why's that?"

His question left you speechless for a moment. Did he really need to ask?

"Sanji, I already licked your finger..."

His palms traced their way under your skirt, and his fingers teased your inner thighs, finding the fabric covering your wet core.

"Well, darling, doesn't that mean we can go further? Deeper?"

"Go ahead then," you mumbled, full of lust. Your skin was aching already for him and this was all you needed to feel complete. Him.

With that, his fingers rubbed you softly over your panties, pressing on the wet patch you were already making. Sanji smirked and he leaned to pay attention to the delicate skin on your neck. His lips pressed soft kisses, leaving a trail of them, until he found the sweet spot that made you melt into his touch, nibbling and sliding his tongue against your neck until he met your collarbone.

"Sanji..." the soft whimper past your lips and you held your breath, eyes closed as he hiked up your uniform skirt and puts aside the panties covering your core from him.

His name falling off your lips made his cock inside his trousers twitch, restraining himself to not fuck you right there in the counter until the only thing that was on your mind was his name and only him. Right now, he decided he would take care of you first. As you deserved it.

"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart," he groaned, forehead pressing against yours.

His fingers found your pussy, spreading your folds softly, coating them with your already dripping juices. Sanji rubbed your clit and he teased your entrance, going at an agonizing rhythm. All you wanted was for him to fuck you with his fingers. Now. You started to grind your hips, needing some more friction, knowing he would get the hint of your despair.

"Please, Sanji," you whined.

Sanji chuckled, and you felt pathetic for begging. You could tell he was enjoying your squirm. His free hand cupped the nape of your neck forcing your dark eyes to look at his own directly.

"Look at me," Sanji ordered. "Do not dare to close your eyes, darling."

You bit your lip and nodded, gripping tightly the edge of the counter.

"Good girl," he whispered with a raspy voice, and with a lustful smile on his lips. "I want to see you come undone."

And with his statement, he eased one digit inside your velvety walls. You moaned louder this time.

"Fuck, you're so ready for me," Sanji growled, noticing how obvious the ache between your thighs was. "You're perfect, darling," he cooed against your lips. His praising caused your walls to clench around him, gaining another dark smile from the blonde man.

The thrusts of his finger started in a delicate pace. Instantly, your eyes clenched, breath hitching, as he filled you up. Sanji gradually increased his pace, curling his finger to reach your deepest spot, and you felt your juices coating your thighs with his moves.

"You look at me, don't forget," Sanji whispered, his other hand now cupping your cheek. You obeyed, opening your eyes for him.

A second finger made its way inside your cunt and he pumped them harder this time. Your legs were spreading wider, moaning against his lips, dying to kiss him one more time. But you tried your hardest to mantain the deep eye contact, realizing where you were right now. In the empty kitchen of the Baratie, with the blonde chef between your legs, fucking you with his pretty fingers. Those he protected and took care of so attentively.

And now, the only place Sanji wanted to have his fingers on was inside of you. You looked flushed, sweaty and simply gorgeous, cyring and whimpering. All for him. Your pussy was throbbing and you let a rather loud and erotic moan.

"Shit, I'm so close," you cried.

"Just come for me, beautiful..."

His lips catching your swollen ones in a heated kiss. He curled up his fingers, thumb rubbing your clit softly. Your hips trying to meet the thrusts of his hand desperately, your smooth walls clenching around his digits. Sanji realized he enjoyed the control and power he had over you as you reached your heavenly climax. He loved it more than he could ever think of.

Your body trembled, and finally, you felt sweet release hitting you, walls spasming in ecstasy around his fingers. Foreheads still touching, eyes locked as he watched you come undone. Exactly like he wanted it to be.

You moaned his name under your breath over and over, filled with pleassure. Sanji felt your thighs closing and your pussy contracting around his digits. He let you catch your breath for a moment, enjoying the heat of your body. For the first time, Sanji then pulled away his forehead, remaining still between your legs, and slowly removing his fingers from your throbbing cunt, eyes looking directly to your wetness.

Still covered with your juices, Sanji used both his hands to spread your folds obscenely to get a better look at your pussyhole. Fuck, you felt so exposed to him, but you couldn't care less. You had a mindblowing orgasm just moments ago.

"Fuck-" you cried.

"So beautiful," he praised. Again, you whimpered and your hips bucked a little.

Sanji pushed a finger slowly inside you, just to gather more of your sweetness, so he could finally have a taste. He licked both fingers he used on you before, humming like he had found the best meal in days.

"So how is it?" you finally asked, teasing him.

"Sweetheart, you're delicious."

You laughed softly, realising you totally forgot about the dish you were preparing that night. "Is this included on your private lessons, Sanji?"

"Only if you want," he leaned down to share a last kiss, this time more gentle than the others.

He already knew your answer.

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cyclesprefectpress · 6 months

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[image description: photos of The Disco Elysium Tarot, printed letterpress in an edition of one from handset lead type and linoleum blocks. It is a complete 78-card tarot deck printed primarily with white text and illustrations on medium grey cardstock, in a custom dark grey hardcase box with a hand-marbled orange and yellow endsheet. The backs of the deck are decorated with an illustration of a sprig of may bells, and a quote from Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns: "None of this matters at all." The interpretive meaning of each card is expressed on its face with a small excerpt of the game's text. The Minor Arcana are divided into four suits of Harry's Attributes—Motorics, Psyche, Physique, Intellect—and each card in that suit is a quote from a skill under that Attribute. The Major Arcana are assigned quotes from other sources like NPC dialogue or Thought Cabinet problems & solutions. Pips for the Minors are counted with diamonds like the game's skill points; each actor or title is printed with their in-game color, but made shiny & metallic with bronzing powder.

each piece of text was set in handset lead type, assembled from individual pieces for each letter and space, and printed relief on a chandler & price clamshell press. end description.]

🎊🎊 Desert Bus for Hope starts for 2023 on nov. 11th and i have made an item this year for the craftalong that will be up for giveaway between 6am-12pm on Monday the 13th! 🎊🎊 It is a full tarot deck based on Disco Elysium and it has several pieces of my heart & soul in it but NOT my blood because i put a bandaid right on that :) donations for this and any other auctions & giveaways for Desert Bus go to Child's Play Charity.

notes: i did not make a whole new interpretive model for this deck, apologies, that was outside of my scope. it's generally compatible with a Rider-Waite model, with Motorics for Wands, Psyche for Cups, Physique for Swords, and Intellect for Disks. (full distribution of text listed by card, linked below. any spelling or transcription errors you find there, i promise i fixed them in print—that's copied from my digital mockup which was copied hastily from screenshots.)

i also do not track hours on these kinds of projects because that way lies madness, but i will say: i knew how much time it would take to print it. it was a lot but i was not worried about it, i know how to print. i was very worried about how much time it would take to absorb the sheer amount of text, and distribute it across the cards, and really get an array i believe in. i was right to worry, and i have absolutely had a few anxious nightmares about discovering the Perfect excerpt that should've gone in and i missed it, and the suit of Intellect made me want to lay on the floor a few times, but still! i believe there's many versions of a deck you could make from this game and this one is a good one.

i think the Minors fit really well with the double-edged sword of Harry's skills, their advice, their priorities. the circular way the Fool-World assignment works out makes me smile every time. The colors on The Star came out so nice. i think Justice fulfills some of my favorite things about Kim's character & purpose in the story. i worried sometimes that editing to such short clips would lose too much of the politics of the game, but of course you can't really take them out and they're especially present in the Majors—the Devil and the Hierophant, The Star and The Sun. i've wanted to design a tarot deck for years and i love this game deeply and i let this idea percolate for a few months and it never stopped making me laugh so here it is, & given a beautiful purpose :)

i also literally could not have done this without xyrilin's Disco Reader and the FAYDE On-Air Playback Experiment to navigate the dialogue and skill checks. Really couldn’t have tied the whole concept & colophon in its final bow without the Disco Reader :)) thank thank thank, they're so fun to investigate that it was honestly very difficult to focus on my task instead of veering off and exploring every branch in an extremely disorganized way.

actual printing went well honestly, very few problems! i think that means i'm getting pretty good at planning one of these monstrosities, although perhaps it also means i'm not challenging myself enough. hmm. no that's silly there's 78 ding dang cards in this thing. anyway the drop & replace formes worked well, no registration issues. mum convinced me to overprint another half a deck's worth of cards when I was printing backs & borders and of course she was right :/ there were a handful of cards that actually had better line breaks and fewer lines total in true type than in the digital mockup, so i needed all the spares I had to put those new short quotes into the appropriate border breakage. next time i will not question her.

handset in Garamond, Eden Bold, and secret Neuland.

WIP : full text card assignments

bonus photo of the kind of trash notes i always take to plan things like how many borders were printed with space for short excerpts vs long excerpts, and how many of those are majors vs. minors, because they have a slightly different frame at the bottom edge, etc.

[image description: they are truly garbage notes, i tell you. half of it is written at angles to the other half, many numbers in the math problems are not labeled, mistakes are scribbled over. it gets me there but it doesn't look pretty. end description.]

#desert bus 2023 #desert bus for hope #disco elysium #book arts #letterpress #letterpress printing #handset type #printmaking #db2023 #finished works #long post

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cattonicdragon · 6 months

Note

Man your work is great :D could you do Astrid hiccup tuffnut ruffnut and snotlout with a small jolly reader(4 feet tall) that riders screaming death or a titan wing catastrophic quaken.(I just like the this short joyful person next a GIANT creature that looks like it squash you like a bug it's just a bit funny to me XD)

Astrid,hiccup,the twins(separately) and snotlout x reader who’s a short ball of joy and rides a screaming death

Decided to do screaming death cus I love them

<<WARNINGS:abit of angst,snotlout not likeing spitelout,mentions of injuries(dragons mainly),snotlout needs a hug,spelling errors probally>>can you tell I don’t know how to do warnings?

HAS BEEN PROOF-READ

Astrid

She is absolutely stunned

Your so tiny.and yet you managed to tame the screaming death

She nearly had a heart attack the first time stormfly and the screaming death play fought,she still nearly dose after she gets used to them

She knows your screaming death won’t hurt stormfly,but as the good dragon rider she is she gets worried for her dragon

She may not admit it but she’s extremely cocky over the fact that one of the dragon riders on their side managed to tame the screaming death,with is defiantly no easy feat 💀

She genuinely questions you on how on earth you managed to tame the screaming death

She’s amused by the size difference between you and your dragon

Little ball of joy and a island destroying demon/pos

Due to your small size she can easily pick you up

She picks you up under your arms and you can only dangle there

You’ll just have to hope your screaming death is feeling nice and might scare Astrid to put you down

Don’t think you being small is all fun though.

Is stormfly is particularly pissed off by the screaming death she will pick you up by the scruff of the neck and run/fly off with you

A chase will ensue,that may or may not have to end up with hiccup and/or having to sort it out

She admires how you can stay so sweet and joyful

She may or may not admit it but she adores your personality,in hard times you can seem like a bright light in a endlessly dark hallway,and she couldn’t be more grateful

Hiccup

Also nearly has a heart attack

The screaming death defiantly had some bad blood with him and toothless

But with you,it’s like a big cat/dog and almost completely docile

How?

Ok well maybe the fact that he made the screaming death plummet face first into a rock wouldn’t help

Your tinny compared to hiccup and even tinier compared to the screaming death

He worries that you may become a large target for dragon hunters

Toothless and the screaming death,don’t exactly get along

I mean years of hatred and bad blood isn’t going to fix easily…

But the you and hiccup will find them curled up together

You don’t understand them but that’s ok

He asks if he can examine the screaming death,or maybe ride it.riding is a less likely option though 💀

He will wince or cringe if he sees any scars or damage he may have caused

He can relate to you being positive and joyful alot

But can also be abit jealous,how can you stay so joyful even in some of the most stressfull situations

He’s so unimaginabley grateful that your there for him during the entire time

You decrease his stress tones

It also feels like a weight off of his shoulders with the burden of having such a great relationship with a endangered and powerful dragon,you’ll stick together and get through it though

He also picks you up,and makes fun of your height.

Ruffnut

Probally one of the only ones who dosnt almost have a heart attack

If anything she’s jealous that you managed to tame such a cool and destructive dragon

Begs asks if she can have a ride just one please?

Will try everything and anything with the screaming death

You will need to supervise 24/7 sorry not sorry

She brags about you all the time

She loves your short size and will toss you over her shoulder/hold you like a log

She’s teases you about your size WAY to much,please tell her to put a sock in it T.T

Barf,belch and the screaming death become the faces of Loki day

Barf and belches personality might have slightly affected your dragon but oh well

Loves to cause distruction with you

If you don’t go on a mission she’s not going either,even if tuffnut begs.

She enjoys your joyful personality and loves that there’s someone that slightly carefree

She also feels like she can be more reckless now that there’s a island destroying dragon on the riders team

You will have to keep an eye on her,or lecture her.either works

Will Loki you hard,unless the screaming death is around.she dosnt want to become 🧀 today thanks

Tuffnut

Also dosnt get a heart attack

Instead he gets destructive zoomies

He begs you,like hands and knees and everything

For one chance to either ride or cause destruction with the screaming death

Jokes on you though if you say yes to either,the other will happen anyways.there’s no winning in this situation sorry

Surprisingly knows when to give the screaming death space

He’s reckless but sensible

Will bribe the screaming death to go on destructive trips constantly

He makes fun of your height,more than ruffnut

Chiken and the screaming death surprisingly get along the best,unlikely but wholesome friendship for the win

Chiken by proxy loves you a lot aswell

So if tuffnut loses chiken he checks you and the screaming death basically first

Somehow carries around a stall with him so you can get to high places when need be

Will kick ruffnut off barf and belch for a ride if you asked

Man Is whipped for you

Don’t leave tuffnut alone with the screaming death though,either he or someone else will die

He at some point becomes something of a second rider to the screaming death,it’s a lot of bribing and treats though and also the fact that he encourages the screaming deaths destructive tendencies

He likes your joyful ness,will also try to bribe you to help him get out of situations he gets himself into

Snotlout

Probally faints during first encounter

Is very worried for everyone’s saftey,it’s a similar situation as to when they took in the injured singetail

Complains a lot about the fact that allowed to bring the SCREAMING DEATH to berk/the edge

He admires you Aton

Your short,shorter then him and look at you go!

Gets a bit jealous of you and may think he’s not good enough

Give him a hug :(

One time during the longest day he ended up snuggling against the screaming death,and survived.after that day they grew abit closer which was sweet

He enjoys your optimism and it’s a good balance since he can be abit pessimistic sometimes

If his dad ever comes to visit and your around he finds himself gravitating towards you,he feels safe with you

Hook fang and the screaming death like tug of war.why?,who knows

They like to play catch with each other aswell,again no idea why

He asks if you want to ride with him and hookfang quite a lot,it’s his way of non verbally getting recognition and validation

He finds himself being a lot less pessimistic when your around and just in general,your jolly personality is infective and effective

He likes to just hug you when he’s feeling down of tired

He picks you up places you in places where you can’t get down easily

He pisses off the screaming death.quite a lot

He likes writing books for you and indulging in your hobbies aswell

Shows you off a ton,as long as you don’t mind though,he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

He likes knitting things for you

He also likes it when you both are in the same room,you can be doing something different or even just being quiet,as long as your there he doesn’t mind

He likes to spar alot aswell,but he never lets it get to the point where either of you get hurt

He’s very protective of you despite the fact he dosnt really need to be

He just cares alot

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writingstoraes · 1 year

Text

hair tie 🎀

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: imagine/drabble (fluff)

notes: my first drabble! not proofread and not revised so please expect errors hehehe please lmk what u think by replying or messaging and if u wanna be part of my taglist! <3 google translated french!

about: you didn't pay no mind when charles randomly asked for one of your hair ties. one car ride later, you find out why.

"Amour, can I have one of your hair ties please?" Charles softly says, gently shaking you awake from your slumber. Due to your half-asleep state, you didn't bother to question him why and quickly pointed to the dresser, where a thin, black hair tie is found on its surface.

"As-tu quelque chose d'autre? Quelque chose qui en un regard, je sais que c'est le tien," Do you have anything else? Something that in one look, I know it's yours.

Prying your eyes open once again, you decide to position yourself to sit on the bed to give Charles a knowing look.

"What do you mean? Do you want a scrunchie?"

"What's that?"

"The thick one that looks like ruffles."

"Oh no." He replies, rifling through your dresser drawers. "Maybe something a little less high profile."

Before you can mutter anything, the Monegasquè exclaims as he finds something he liked after absolutely destroying the organized drawers: a red hair tie with a small black ribbon.

Clearly with a motive on his mind, Charles quickly picks up the hair tie and proceeds outside to his car. You didn't pay it any mind, you had a lot of hair ties anyway, most of it scattered around the room and even in your purses. You just assumed he used it to tie something; used it like it was a rubber band.

You and Charles made plans to visit his family today which can explain why he was up and about getting ready for the drive. The drive up to his family home is about two hours and it has been a habit of his to prep the car every time you had to go somewhere. While he was in the garage, you got up and made breakfast, all the food on the table in pairs of two's.

As you sit through breakfast, you already had enough caffeine in your system to be sober for the morning, not that you were drunk, just sleepy. Being in the right state of mind, you give in to curiosity and ask him why he needed a hair tie in the first place, up to why he needed to choose one he liked.

"Ce n'est rien," It's nothing.

You didn't pry anymore, it was just a hair tie after all. If you know him well, he probably did use it to tie something or replace something he broke while fixing the car. After breakfast, the two of you went on like clockwork to get ready for the drive up to his family's house. Being all dressed up and ready, Charles opens the passenger seat door for you and you were off.

Halfway through the drive and several songs sang in the car later, your eyes dart towards a very familiar hair tie. The red hair tie with a black ribbon was wrapped around the car's gear shifter, much to your surprise when you thought he only used it to tie something or mend something he'd clumsily broke.

"Ah, so this is where you used my hair tie," you tell Charles, who returned a sheepish smile.

"You are cute in your own ways, do you know that?" you stifle a giggle, waiting for him to respond. "Can I ask why is that there?"

"Why? Do you want it back? I'm sorry, I have my reason I promise." He replies, voice laced with guilt.

"No, baby I just... want to know what it's for."

You were fine with not knowing actually. You're sure Charles had his reasons. Maybe he liked the ribbon or the red reminded him of Ferrari. Maybe he thought his spectacular sports car was so manly it needed a splash of ribbon. The thing is, Charles has his antics, something you've grown to love over the years. In your eyes, this hair tie situation is mundane to say the least.

"Fine but you have to promise you won't laugh." Charles says, eyes kept strictly on the road.

"Je promets." I promise.

"It's a reminder." He says in a low and soft voice.

"I put it there to remind myself that I have to drive safe because you're waiting for me at home," Charles continues, and you swear you could just melt right there. "Okay I know it sounds cheesy and sappy and that an F1 driver knows how to drive safe but it's a nice reminder."

"Charles, you drive cars at 300 km/h," you laugh, gaining a chuckle from him.

"I know. It's just a good reminder to be extra safe every time I'm in a car because there's someone waiting for me at home. It's for when I lose my cool on the road so I can be reminded to stay calm and avoid road rage. It's for when I drive cars at the speed of light but I take my cautions because I look forward to seeing you, always."

"Je veux toujours être en sécurité pour que tu ne t'inquiètes pas pour moi," I want to always be safe so you don't worry about me.

Charles pauses and turns to look at you, quite lovingly, spending the 30 seconds of the red light awaiting your response. It is safe to say you were out of words, because you never knew a gesture as simple as this could make your heart swell ten times its size. All because of a hair tie.

"I love you so so so much, you hair tie stealer." you smile as his free hand trails up your thigh to capture your hand as he kisses the back of it. "But for what it's worth, I will always worry about you."

"That I know. But treat the hair tie as an immunity charm."

----------

tagging: @slytherheign <333 hope u r doing well mwah

notes: my first imagine (written)! im still working on writing dialogues cause its the part i find the hardest :// lmk what u think! will be posting ig imagines tomorrow hehe that or a very angsty charles imagine based on midnight rain by taylor 🫠

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble #formula 1 #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fluff #charles leclerc fluff

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

Text

Series Masterlist

*Click here to be added to taglists

Chapter 15

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Suicidal ideation; Allusions to necrophilia; Sexual themes A/N: Don’t get too settled! Things will be shaken up in some heavy, heavy ways in the next few chapters. Also, my edit button isn’t working so I can’t fix anything once this is posted. Just ignore errors and pretend I know what I’m doing.

Daryl lifted the pistol with one hand, firing off a shot with practiced precision to effortlessly hit the target— a can on top of an empty water barrel —some distance away.

“You… didn’t even aim.” You stated timidly, your shoulders tensed and trembling close to your ears. Your target, another empty can, was significantly closer but still an intimidating distance away.

“Yeah, I did. Jus’ been doin’ it fer s’ long that s’quick. Know what ta do without really thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He lowered his weapon and placed it in the holster at his hip, coming to stand just behind you. You had been practicing aiming for several days, even choosing to stay out after Daryl had left to complete other tasks. You had found that he was keeping an eye on you, hovering without suffocating you.

Things had changed since he had been sick. Drastically, in your opinion. It was like a switch flipped in both of you. He communicated with a certain ease now, the way you had witnessed him speak with Carol. Still a man of few words unless they were required, but less closed off than before.

Any apprehension you had around him had dissipated entirely. You were comfortable and felt a warm safety under his watchful eye. Even when you couldn’t see him, you knew he was there.

You had taken to sleeping on the mattress with him. The both of you were careful to keep space between your bodies, a boundary not so willingly crossed. He usually slept with his back to you, but you opened your eyes nearly every morning to see him rising from his side, facing you.

Your relationship with Carol was healing, bit by bit. Just that very morning, you had shown up to help her with breakfast. Silence remained throughout. You began stirring the oats while she chopped berries, taking a moment to look at one another with small smiles that said more than words ever could.

“Don’ look at what yer shootin’ at.” Daryl stepped up beside you and tapped the rear sight of the gun. “Line ‘er up n’ then look here. Ya can still see the can, jus’ a lil’ blurry now.” The archer took a step back and crossed his arms, eyes narrowed while studying your form. You were trembling, not only with anticipation but with nervousness. You wanted to do well. You had been practicing diligently, already embarrassed that he was reminding you how to aim properly. You smiled when you saw him nod his approval from the corner of your eye. “Whenever yer ready.”

You inhaled deeply, not focusing on the drumming of your heart or the noises of the prison around you. You let your sole focus simmer down to the weight of the gun, the slack you could feel in the trigger as you began to squeeze it. The target was indeed blurry beyond the sight but you could still see it. The can expanded and twisted into the face of Big Jazz, his cruel laughter echoing as you felt the first traces of resistance.

Daryl had warned you about recoil, so the kickback of the weapon startled you very little. You were too focused on the target. He had instructed you to keep the gun steady even after firing so that you didn’t pull it back too early and alter the trajectory of the bullet. There was a loud clink when the projectile made contact, clipping the can on the top right, sending it soaring.

You stared at it in wonder, the pride you felt beginning as a low buzz just below your sternum. Then you were beaming, lowering the weapon to turn your smile on Daryl, finding the man already smirking back at you. “I did it!” The calm in your voice betrayed the absolute thrill sparkling in your eyes.

He watched you curiously. You had been spending so much time dedicated to practicing the things he would teach, soaking up the information like a sponge and immediately. You never complained that he put you through the motions and wouldn’t let you try live rounds from the get go.

You actually never complained about anything.

You always smiled, albeit small and unsure, when you picked up your meals. You always offered a word or two of gratitude, putting forth so much effort toward acclimating yourself into the little community. You did the chores, no matter how tedious or exhausting. In between everything, you scurried off to practice on your own.

After all you’d been through, you were blossoming into something he’d never expected. Which only added fuel to the fire of his infatuation with you.

He was struggling to say the least, hoping to every deity that he was hiding it well. Every touch set his skin on fire. Every glance made the butterflies in his stomach do gymnastics. The urge to run from you, however, was strongly outweighed by the desire to be close to you. You needed to be safe. Even Daryl knew that it went far beyond his feelings of responsibility at this point.

“Yer a natural.” His smile fell away as you ran at him, throwing your arms around his neck. The embrace was the reason his cheeks flushed but the real problem was still nestled in your tight grip. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! How ‘bout ya, uh, put on the safety ‘fore ya come runnin’ at me, huh?” He was unwinding your limbs, handling your gun-wielding arm with extra care.

You pulled back with a grin that made his heart flutter. “I did.”

He blinked at you, caught off guard when you held the gun sideways to show that you actually had, at some point between firing the shot and throwing yourself against him, flicked on the safety.

After the initial surprise wore off, he snorted slightly. “I’ll be damned. Good girl.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain caught up. His face grew impossibly warmer, but his heart dropped when he saw the expression you wore. Almost a look of fear. One that made sense almost immediately. He had meant it as a compliment but it was something you most definitely heard during less than pleasant experiences.

“Sorry.” You dropped your gaze, that submissive stance he hadn’t seen in a while returning with such intensity that he found his hand reaching out, fingers tapping gently beneath your chin. You were slow to oblige, which was an improvement from your once instant desire to obey.

“Shouldn’a said it like tha’.” Daryl dropped his hand to his side, too focused on how he’d just made you feel to dwell on the tingle in his fingertips from the brief feel of your skin. “Meant it as…well, uh, m’ proud’a ya.”

The discomfort faded from your face almost immediately. “Thank you, Daryl.” Your teeth teased your bottom lip in front of an almost bashful smile. When he noticed the way you were bouncing on the balls of your feet, he sighed with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“G’on n’ tell Carol.” You took off, your boots sliding in the gravel and almost toppling you over, but you managed to stay on your feet, tucking your handgun into the waistband of your jeans on the way up the hill.

Daryl didn’t even realize he was smiling until he noticed movement from the corner of his eye, turning to find Rick watching him curiously. The frown was instantaneous. “What?” He snapped.

Rick failed exponentially at covering his grin but held up his hands in surrender. “Nothing.” The archer didn’t like the way the other man laughed as he turned away.

Carol nodded enthusiastically with an amused smile as you carried on about your successful first shot, not daring to interrupt you. She was just elated that you had come to her willingly with your excitement and that your voice was still strong and even louder than you’d ever before shown.

“Good job!” She cheered, holding out her hand for a high five. You actually jumped when delivering the request, bringing laughter bubbling out of her throat. Rick had approached and was listening in toward the end, engaging you in conversation about the experience once you had finished telling Carol.

As you talked with the former deputy, she watched you, only noticing small signs of discomfort in your body language. You were healing. Little by little, you were feeling more confident. You smiled freely and frequently. You laughed. You were eager to learn. It was such a beautiful thing in a not so pretty world. It was like watching her own story, different players and scenes with the same underlying theme.

“Hey.” Daryl nudged her with his elbow. Carol looked up at him, standing beside her with his arms crossed and a stick of cinnamon between his lips. His blue eyes were trained right on you.

“Good job, Pookie.” She laughed when his lip curled, his elbow bumping her arm a second time.

“Whaddaya mean?” The archer inquired, rolling the cylinder between his teeth. Carol only slightly refrained from rolling her eyes.

“Look at her. That’s all you.” She nodded toward where Rick was intently listening to you explain what Daryl had taught you, as if the man had never seen a firearm in his life. The silver-haired woman observed her friend from the corner of her eye. The bowman had a different air about him when he looked at you, even if he tried like hell to hide it. Responsibility, my ass.

“S’all her. I jus’ watch.” He shrugged.

“I bet you do.” She said smugly, leaving him standing there with an exasperated expression that was just as much telling as it wasn’t.

Daryl had to go on a run. He had left you with Carol, under very strict orders not to move from the woman’s side. You didn’t like seeing Daryl upset or stressed, and he always seemed to be both when called away from the prison for hunting or scavenging. It was obvious to even you that he didn’t like to leave you behind.

“Keep practicin’. When I think ya can handle yerself, ya can go with me.”

So that’s what you did. Everyday. You would help with the chores that kept things running smoothly and in between, you would practice. Except the days Daryl was gone. Those days, you were Carol’s shadow. She was well aware of why and never complained. Though she couldn’t make time for you to improve shooting, she would take you with her to clear the fences.

That particular day, you had ended up soaked in dark blood and brain matter. You were obviously repulsed by the mess but dropping the walkers didn’t really bother you anymore. There was still a respectable amount of fear when facing a corpse but it was no longer debilitating.

Once inside the safety of the prison, you split from your chaperone and headed straight for the showers. Most of the community didn’t shower daily, understanding the need to conserve water. You were different. Rick gave the okay for your daily washes, knowing your history and why it was imperative for you to end the day feeling clean. Feeling new and untouched. Unsullied.

You always made them fast but thorough. The darkness that surrounded you there was suffocating, even with your lantern. It never failed to overwhelm you with the paranoia that some sleaze was waiting in the shadows to take you back to Big Jazz. It was the same song and dance each time, without fail.

Hair still damp, you rubbed at it with the towel on the way back to the perch. The sun had already dipped behind the trees, leaving you certain that Daryl would be waiting for you. So when you reached the top step to find the space unoccupied, you grew nervous. Not only for the archer’s safety but for the fear of being left alone once the last shreds of light gave way to the faint luminescence of the moon.

Biting at your nails, you sat down on the mattress and laid out one of Daryl’s handkerchiefs. Cleaning your gun gave you practice while occupying your mind. You knew from experience that being left alone with your thoughts was dangerous.

During your isolation at the club, you idealized ways to end your suffering. That only led to wondering what would become of your body. Back then, your knowledge of walkers was limited. And you knew that Todd had sold some of the other bodies to clientele and what those men were doing when they didn’t need your services for a while. The thought of what would happen after your death was almost as daunting as what was happening while you were living and breathing.

Except you had this hope that, while you still lived, you might come to know someone. Someone that would miss you if you died.

Along came Daryl.

He was your savior in every sense of the word. He delivered you from the hell in which you were trapped. He brought you to a place of relative safety, despite the dangers that could infiltrate. He was teaching you and protecting you.

He had finally begun to drop his walls. He treated you like a person. He could still be abrasive but the moments had grown fewer and farther in between. He was ruggedly handsome with kind eyes and a nice smile when he would show it. It wasn’t often that his lips dared venture past a smirk. You liked his lips.

You dropped the clip when trying to return it to the gun, blinking at the pieces with wide eyes. You were supposed to be distracted from thinking, not swooning over a man who was as emotionally available as a thumbtack. Sure, Daryl was kind but you noticed he never spared any of the women a second glance.

They sure spared him several.

There was a smoldering heat somewhere in your chest when you thought of how the other females would eye the man as he passed them. The sensation was vaguely familiar, a piece of your pre-enslaved self prodded at whatever cage your subconscious had trapped it inside. You couldn’t exactly name it, but you were well aware that you didn’t like it.

With an annoyed huff, you glanced up toward the high windows. It was well past nightfall and the group had still not returned. This had never happened before and if you were completely honest, you were scared. The shadows were forgotten, every threat your mind could create was shot down by the vivid scenarios of what could have happened to Daryl. The final image your brain shoved to the forefront was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Daryl as a walker at the fence.

“No, no, no.” You chanted, shoving yourself to your feet. You kept repeating the word all the way to the door of Carol’s cell. You didn’t tap on the bars or call out to her. The curtain was roughly shoved aside and you barged in with no still tumbling from your lips.

“Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong?” She had already pulled you into her arms, shushing you and stroking your hair.

“He’s not coming back, is he? It’s after dark. Daryl said nights are dangerous. He’s not coming back, Carol. He’s not coming back.” You sobbed against her. You had finally managed to find something good in this world. Someone good. The fear of that being stripped away from you was almost too much to bear.

“No, no. Honey, listen. They were probably just held up. It doesn’t mean—” She seemed to understand the moment that your legs gave out and followed you to the floor, still holding you tightly against her. “Y/N, everything’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! He’s not coming back!” Your voice was slowly rising, panic taking hold in a familiar way that you never again wanted to feel. “He’s not coming back! He left me and he’s not coming back!”

“Who ain’t comin’ back?”

Your head snapped to the doorway so fast that your neck twinged in protest.

Daryl was bruised, bloody, and more than a little dirty but he was there.

“Who ain’t— oomf!”

You hit his chest with enough force to stagger him toward the railing, his heartrate spiking from the fear that you both might topple over it. “Why weren’t you here?! You can’t leave me, Daryl! You can’t go!”

The archer was staring helplessly at Carol, admittedly unsure of what the hell he was supposed to do. She only gave him a gentle smile and stood, walking to the door of her cell and pulling the sheet closed. He could not suppress the glare that the doorway received.

He then turned his attention to the bundle of you currently holding so tightly to the shirt beneath his vest that he heard some part of it tear. Hug you. He should hug you. That was logical.

“Hey.” Daryl said softly, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your back. “M’right here.” Your sobs didn’t seem to quiet in the slightest, surely alerting everyone else in the prison. Hopefully they weren’t asleep yet. “Y/N. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” His brow furrowed when he noticed how hard you were trembling. When words were continuing to fail him, he settled with just holding you.

It felt like hours of listening to you cry, the vice around his heart tightening until he could barely breathe. When one of the former Woodbury residents peeked out of their cell to scowl at him, he knew he had to get you away from that area. Not before offering a glare that had the man’s eyebrows shooting into his hairline just before he disappeared back into his space.

You made no objections when he bent to sweep an arm beneath your knees, only refusing to release your hold on the shirt your tears were steadily soaking through. He was careful, walking slowly so as not to jostle you, like you were still that fragile burden he had carried to the prison all those weeks ago.

Once he had climbed the stairs, he attempted to place you down on the mattress but you held fast to him, twisting your fists for a firmer grip. Daryl couldn’t help the fond smile he gave to the top of your head.

“Gonna hafta let go eventually.” With a deep, stuttering breath, your hold finally loosened yet didn’t fall away. “Wanna tell me wha’ happened?”

“Nights are dangerous.” Your voice was so small that it reminded him of the first time you ever spoke to him, outside of that club. He did not want to see you revert back from the person you had worked so hard to become. “That’s what you said. When night came, I thought—”

“Ya thought I wouldn’ come back.” You nodded against his chest. “Ran outta fuel skirtin’ ‘round a herd. Gotta diff’rent car, got the crap we found, made it back.” You sniffled again.

“You were late.”

Daryl couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “Didn’ realize I had a curfew.” He was able to hold onto the humor of the situation until you finally looked at him. His heart went plummeting down into some dark part of him, knowing then and there that he never wanted to see that fearful hopelessness again.

“Don’t leave me behind again. Please.”

The archer swallowed hard, feeling like an asshole. “Y/N, I can’ take ya out there. It ain’t safe.” His hold tightened slightly when he turned to sit on the mattress, lowering your legs onto his lap, so that he could embrace you with both arms. You were still looking at him. Strangely, he didn’t feel anxious under your gaze, distressed as it was. He felt oddly…anchored.

“It’ll never be safe.”

He couldn’t argue with that point. Nowhere was safe anymore. “Not knowin’ how ta protect yerself gets ya killed. I can’ take ya with me n’ have ta watch ya the whole time. Get us both killed.”

“Then teach me.” You implored, actually shaking him with the hold you still had on his shirt. “I can use the knife. I can shoot. Teach me what else I need to know so I can go with you.”

Daryl’s expression fell. You were right. You were good with your knife. You were fucking great with the gun. There was only one thing left to show you. And he dreaded it more than actually taking you outside the fence. “Ya need ta know how ta fight.” Your head tilted in a way that he would have found adorable had he not felt like he was about to vomit.

“Can Carol or Maggie—”

He was already shaking his head. “Need ta know how ta fight someone bigger, stronger. Need ta be able ta hold yer own when I can’ get ta ya.” When, not if. There would undoubtedly come a time when you would be alone, for whatever reason, and need to be able to take down walker or human; woman or man.

He would need to teach you.

Which meant, at some point, putting his hands on you.

The images of finding you at the mercy of Lonny and Marvin. The stark contrast between the blood and your skin. The way you had surrendered, given up, and just accepted what would have happened if he hadn’t—

Daryl didn’t know when he had looked away, staring at some unimportant spot on the floor until your soft palm turned him back to you.

“Okay.”

He narrowed his eyes, filled with an anger he knew wasn’t for you. It was for the lowlife assholes that had touched you, made you afraid of your own shadow. You had struggled to claw your way out of the shell they had left behind and now he would be forced to bring all of that back to the surface. Maybe not at first, but before it was done, before he would even feel remotely comfortable taking you anywhere beyond the prison gate, you would be afraid of him.

“I can do it, Daryl.”

The fire he felt raging just behind his ribs began to fade when he looked at you, your fierce determination mingling with the softness your eyes always held. Somewhere down deep, he knew you could do it. It wasn’t really about that. It was him. He was the one afraid. He never wanted to be the source of your nightmares. He didn’t want to portray the monster that his father so openly and willingly embraced.

He somehow managed to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Okay.” He reluctantly agreed. “I, uh… need ta shower. Gettin’ guts n’ shit all over yer clothes.” When he tried to move you aside, this time you let him. Yet when he stood, your hand snagged his wrist and he found himself looking down at you again.

“Don’t go.”

“M’jus’ gonna shower, Y/N.” Had his absence really been that profound? “M’gonna be righ’ back.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Daryl was certain his jaw hit the floor. “W-wha’?”

“I won’t look. I promise. I just…I don’t want to be alone.” You released his wrist but he could still feel a tingling where your fingers had been.

“Y’ain’t alone. Carol’s jus’—”

“I don’t want to be away from you right now.”

Part of him wouldn’t mind if you tagged along. You weren’t going there to gawk at him. But the part of him that knew what he was planning on doing aside from showering was filled with a sudden shame that he was no stranger to but had learned to ignore.

“Please?” You fixed him with those doe eyes of yours and he knew he was well and truly fucked. The hunter rubbed a hand roughly over his face and began to dig through his pile of clean clothing for something to wear to bed. Before you, he had usually just slept in whatever he was wearing when he crashed, giving in to the need for comfort by pulling on some flannel pants on occasion. When you began to spend more time in his space, he had raided the scavenged clothing and found several things he could sleep in that would make it more comfortable for you. How could you relax if he was constantly covered in grime and guts with no reprieve?

“Fine.”

You didn't smile which actually surprised him. You loved to beam at him when he gave you your way, but this was different. He had truly scared you. Clothing and towel in hand, he started down the steps with you trailing behind. He shouldn’t have been allowing you to be so dependent on him. You needed to learn to be self reliant, self soothing. God, he was making you sound like an infant.

Maybe you simply didn’t know that it wasn’t exactly appropriate. You had been passed from man to man for so long that the lines of decency were blurred. He couldn’t fault you for that, and he wouldn’t try to educate you when you had been so shaken and he was aching and dog-tired.

The run had been a shitshow. He didn’t lie to you, those things did happen. He just omitted a few things that would have done nothing but compound your anxiety. He was well aware that you would need to know the realities of a supply run but he would explain those in detail when you were ready to join him. The thought made him cringe. He still couldn’t imagine you out there. Not that you weren’t doing well with training. You were. It was just that knowing you’d be anywhere near immediate danger made him sick to his stomach.

He was hyper aware of each and every step you took behind him, even with your feet being bare. As an afterthought, he wondered if he should have brought the lantern. He didn’t need it but perhaps you would. If you did, you hadn’t said anything, even when he stepped into the stall, still fully clothed.

He turned to find you holding some of your own clothes at your hip.

“Mine got dirty.” You shrugged, walking into the adjoining stall. Nothing but a single half wall separated you. When he saw your arms raise and the shirt being lifted over your head, he turned his back and inwardly groaned.

Why, oh why, had you needed to follow him?

“Done.” You announced, any trace of you gone when he turned around. Brow knitted, he raised to the balls of his feet to look over the barrier but still couldn’t see you. Next, he leaned forward and peered around the outside of the wall. You were sitting with your back against the tiles, your eyes finding his before you smiled shyly. “Is this okay? I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable could not even begin to describe how Daryl was feeling.

You watched as Daryl’s eyes narrowed, something almost playful twinkling within the cobalt depths. “No peeking.” He warned, his tone light, and then he vanished back to the other side.

You ignored the sounds of him undressing— the graze of his boots over his socks, the soft clink of his belt buckle —and busied yourself with chewing on your nails, trying to even out the ones you had fucked up during your earlier episode. Chewing at a jagged edge, you’d pull back to inspect your work and then continue to the next.

You had made it almost all the way across one hand when a weight plopped and settled over your head. The familiar smell of leather stifled any instantaneous fear, so you pulled at the veil to find it was the winged vest.

“Daryl,” you whined through a smile. “I just changed my clothes!” The shower started spraying behind you.

“Oops.” He replied flippantly.

Leaning forward, you cross-crossed your legs beneath you and set about carefully folding his vest, brushing away any dirt you could see by only moonlight, the rest left for when you could properly clean it. Carol had taught you how to care for and maintain it when the precious article came through in the laundry she had gathered, the one and only time you’d seen it in all the loads you’d helped wash.

Sweeping your hand back and forth over the material, you smiled at how far you’d come. There was a man showering less than ten feet away from you and you weren’t whimpering or cowering. You weren’t looking for an escape. It was a testament to both your strength and the influence of the aforementioned man in the shower.

Amidst your thoughts, the smell of burnt tobacco wafted into your face, your nose scrunching. You hadn’t even heard the lighter!

“Are you seriously smoking in the shower?”

“Who doesn’?”

You could tell he was letting the cigarette hang between his lips from the sound of his voice, obviously talking from one side of his mouth. You smiled and rolled your eyes but didn’t badger him further. There was no need. Your mind ventured far away.

It started innocently enough. You were picturing him washing his hair while drawing off the cigarette, exhaling the smoke through his nose and looking pleased as punch. You would have giggled had your traitorous mind not called upon the rest of his body. Just recalling what you had seen that night made your cheeks burn.

If it had ended there, you might have been able to brush it off without hindrance. Your subconscious was never kind to you.

You saw yourself sitting on the low wall that currently separated you from him, just as wet and just as bare. The archer stepped between your legs that were open in invitation. His scars felt like your own, your fingers studying them as he watched, the cigarette still pressed between his lips. You blinked up at him when he grabbed the smoke between his thumb and forefinger, flicking it into the shower floor to be extinguished and forgotten. That same hand glided up your thigh and dipped between your bodies, his fingers mimicking your own; delicately tracing the scars littered over your core.

“You’re just like me.” You whispered as his lips found yours.

“If ya mean tired n’ done with this shit day then yep, we ‘bout the same.”

You jolted sideways, eyes wide with surprise. “Daryl!” He was standing at the end of the stall in flannel pants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, his damp towel and dirty clothing in hand.

“Yeah?” He was waiting you out but you couldn’t seem to find words while your fresh little fantasy continued to flicker behind your eyes. “Y’alrigh’?”

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat, suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity. “I’m good.” Clambering to your feet, you smiled and handed him his vest. “I’m just really tired too.” His narrowed eyes brought on worry that he wasn’t buying it but after a moment, he nodded toward the door.

“Le’s hit the sack. Gotta a long day tomorrow.”

You hummed your agreement and followed him out. Sleep was doubtfully going to be in the cards that night, not after what you had allowed to happen inside your head. Daryl wanted you, at least he had wanted you at some point. Did he still? Did you want him? Of course you did. He had made it clear that he cared for you. You were his friend. Maybe he did still want to fuck you.

That wasn’t something you could ever allow.

You were damaged. Healing but forever damaged. You’d been used so frequently by so many that you would never allow Daryl to lower himself to such desperation. There were plenty of women there vying for his attention. Maybe once he was less focused on you, he could start thinking more about his own needs. He would see that any appeal you had was nothing compared to a woman who could give him her whole heart and not just a pile of shredded fragments.

Finally settled, your shoulders were almost touching while the two of you laid on your backs. Silence was abundant for the longest time before Daryl cleared his throat.

“Night.”

“Goodnight.”

Simultaneously, you both turned away from the other; Daryl’s eyes on the wall and yours on the shadows past the railing.

Neither was aware that the other was thinking the exact same thing.

He deserves better.

She deserves better.

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aphroditeslover11 · 6 months

Note

Hi what do you think about a Neil Lewis with a actress reader? Like they met before and he has already a crush on her and then he watch movie and see her ?

Another tought (not q request just something in my head) so I'm from Göttingen, an we have here q tradition if someone has his PhD they have to kiss the Statue of the goose Maid ( "Gänseliesel") he is not common with this tradition and so when reader ask him when he is planning do the kiss he assumed she wanna that he kiss her

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking of. I’m not at my best at the moment so I’m sorry if there are any glaring errors. I hadn’t written for Neil before, but he’s actually very fun! Thanks for your request. Also, that is a fabulous tradition, it might get slotted into one of my other Oppie requests, I’m not sure yet though as it’s in the idea phase at the moment.

A Surprise Encounter

A/N: the classic films mentioned are all free on BBC iPlayer, go and give them a watch! I also have no idea where the store is, so I made it up.

Neil was absolutely beside himself when the invite arrived in the post. A new film that he couldn’t wait to see was premiering soon, it was low budget but contained a few big names who had decided that they wanted to promote the more independent side of the industry. He had been asked to attend an event aiming to promote smaller video shops like his rather than the huge, commercial ones that were taking over. When he read that you and the director alone were going to be on the panel he felt like he had never been luckier, finally a chance to meet his favourite actress in the flesh. Although he did admire your talents, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he also found you wildly attractive.

The next few weeks were spent planning everything. He rewatched a few of your films so that he could ask some decent questions of you at the press event and reading every article that he could on the making of your new one, a biopic of Julie d’Aubigny. He went out and bought a new suit for the occasion, had his hair cut. As far as he was concerned, there were going to be no disasters, not when he was going to meet one of his idols.

The day of the event had finally come. All of the invitees, including Neil, had been piled into an auditorium where they had been given an early viewing of the film, then being moved into a press room with rows of chairs set out in front of a platform. He was happy with his seat, about half way back in the crowd, not too conspicuous but with a good view of the stage. The previous hubbub died down as soon as the panel made their way up, the director taking his place, yet Neil’s eyes were fixed on you. Your hair was down and curly, framing your face, and that smile that everyone always talked about. You were wearing black heels a red dress that dipped down just enough to give a small view of your cleavage. He was transfixed.

Questions started being asked, the general types of how you had enjoyed working with the rest of the cast and what you had taken away from playing your character, some conversations were had about wanting to make sure that the smaller side of the film and cinema industry wasn’t dwarfed in the future. For some reason, all of the eyes in the room suddenly focused on Neil, it was only then that he realised that he had drifted off, his arm leaned on the armrest of his chair in such a way that you had thought he was asking a question.

“Uh, the gentleman in the blue suit there, do you have a question?” The sentence was coming from you, quickly drawing him out of his reverie.

“Um.. yes,” he never was much good at thinking on his feet. “I know that you’re promoting this film today, but do you feel as if classic cinema has been forgotten. My shop specialises in older, more hard to find movies and… well, yeah,” he trailed off. He was like a deer in the headlights, speaking as if he was full of terror. A few people around him were scoffing and hiding their laughter. Great, he had embarrassed himself in front of you.

“Actually, I do think that we’ve forgotten about classic cinema. Not only the thrillers and comedies, but for me the least talked about are the romance films. I grew up on Astaire and Rogers musicals, I know some people don’t like them and find them a bit politically incorrect know, but they still have a special place in my heart. If you think about their influence on modern cinema, we wouldn’t have ‘Sleepless In Seattle’ if it hadn’t been for a 1939 film ‘Love Affair”. What was your name?” Why the hell did you want to know who he was?

“Neil Lewis.”

“And where’s your shop?”

“California, its called Gumshoe Video.”

“I’ll pop in next time I’m in town, maybe you could give me some recommendations.” And that was the end of that conversation.

About three weeks later everything had returned to normal. Neil was back to running the store and the gang were still practically living there. It was a completely normal day when Lucien, who had been manning the counter, came around to the back to find him.

“Neil, you might want to come inside, there’s a customer asking for you.”

“Can’t you handle it?” He just wanted a bit of time to himself, making is response more huffy than he had intended.

“Trust me, you want to come and see this.”

He followed Lucien back into the shop, only to be caught in shock as he saw you standing there in front of him, dressed a lot more casually than the last time he saw you, but still with your hair down in its beautiful curls. He never thought that you would actually make true on what you had said, but here you were.

“Is there anything that I can help you with Miss y/l/n?” “I came by to see if you had any suggestions for me, you know, classic films like you said you specialised in.” You actually seemed a bit nervous, though he had no idea why. “And please, call me y/n.”

“Right, y/n,” it just felt so right when he said it. “What kind of thing are you looking for, any genres in mind?”

“I always love a romance movie, the press don’t know yet but I left my boyfriend last month after he cheated on me. I’m down here to get away from it all, so a romance to take my mind off everything would be good, yeah.” He could see the sadness behind your eyes as you explained.

“He must have been an idiot then,” he said, immediately regretting it and walking past the stunned Lucien towards the romance section, beckoning for you to follow.

“So, you said that you liked Astaire and Rogers, but have you ever seen ‘The Sky’s The Limit’?”

“I don’t think I have, no.” He reached out for the dvd, showing you the front of the case.

“It’s Fred Astaire and Joan Leslie, came out in 1943. A musical about a fighter pilot who falls in love with a girl who wants to make it as a journalist, sounds like the sort of thing you might be looking for.”

“I think I’ll take that then, sounds perfect.” Something lit up inside him, you were smiling and it was because of something that he had done.

“Right, I’ll go and sort out a membership card so that you can rent it then, do you have any ID on you. Driver’s licence or something?” You followed him over to the till, rooting around in your bag to find what he had asked for. He busied himself, quickly handing over the card and the movie.

“What do I owe you?” you asked, reaching for your purse.

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure, because…”

“Yeah, in return for having me at that panel a few weeks back. It was amazing.” “Well, in that case can I pay you back in another way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could watch the film together?”

“That sounds like a fair means of payment, I think I’ll accept.” You slipped him your number, telling him to call when he was free before walking out of the store, Neil wondering what the fuck had just happened.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #fanfic #requests #classic films

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n-s4kayaky · 7 months

Text

Satisfying journey

(Notes: Hi! I'm new to writing stories on this app. While I am familiar with writing the occasional one-shot or comic strip, it's been a while. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment and excitement. I just wanted to let you know that if there are any grammatical errors, I apologize. I'm also more than happy to hear your suggestions and feedback. For now, this is all I can share. I hope you enjoy this story)

Pairing: Buggy The Clown x F!Reader

Summary: You are a young woman tired of living in your old and gloomy town, looking for an adventure or a new place to live. You obtain a boat in terrible condition, but good enough to take you to the nearest island, which is called Orange Town. Upon arrival, you are surprised by the deplorable state of the city, observing how half of it is demolished and in absolute silence because no one walked through those streets. You search throughout the city for someone to tell you what is happening there, but while you search for something or someone to provide you with a minimum of information, some pirates find you first. Thinking that you are a citizen of that town, they take you prisoner to a large tent that looked like a circus, which was full of the population of that city, only that they were chained in their seats with a shocking appearance. The pirates do the same to you as they did to the other citizens and handcuff you.

Confused and before you could grumble at your captors, the lights went out completely and a large group of what looked like circus performers came out, starting their show. Everything seemed "normal", people applauded based on a large sign with the word "APPLAUSE" and laughed when the same sign said "LAUGHTER". Buggy came out of a large hallway, you knew you had seen him somewhere before; you didn't remember where but that face was familiar to you. The Captain began to scold his crew for the poor show they were putting on and for the lack of attention they were paying to him. Due to this, the sign with the word "APPLAUSE" shone again and the entire audience did what they were ordered to do, everyone except you, too confused and lost in your thoughts trying to remember who that clown was. Of course, your action did not go unnoticed and that's why the captain's attention was fixed on you.

Warnings: Depictions of Violence and Torture, Buggy being the star of the show and a complete jerk, sexual tension and teasing, romance, humiliation.

The rays of the sun stung against the skin of your arms and face, the smell of saltwater permeated your nose, and the gentle sea breeze made your hair wave. You were lying in your small boat, not having much else to do at the moment, just lying down, looking at the blue sky, and waiting for the tide to take you somewhere worthwhile. Had you ventured into the vast and dangerous ocean without a hint of knowledge about navigation? Yes, but what did you have to lose at that moment? You knew you weren't going back to your village or being given a mansion and 5,000 berries. You sighed in boredom as your stomach began to growl with hunger. You lazily rose from the small boat and rummaged through your bag where you had put some provisions to endure as long as possible at sea, but to your surprise, the bag was almost empty. There was only a small glass jar with a sip of water left, and the only edible thing you had at that moment was half an apple, which was already beginning to rot on the inside. A grimace appeared on your face, and you sighed resentfully. You had to get to a place with food as soon as possible if you didn't want to die of hunger in the middle of the vast sea.

With the small safety knife you had in your pants pocket, you began to take the small part of the fruit that was still in good condition, bringing it to your mouth and eating while your eyes once again rested on the bright blue sky, watching as the occasional seagull flew over it. You ate the last of your fruit and decided it was best to save the little water you had left for later. With a sigh, you got up from the boat, standing on the dirty and damp wood as you looked around for something that would please your eyes. Fortunately, you had great luck and saw what looked like a city just a few kilometers away. A big smile spread across your face and you energetically took the small oars in the boat, beginning to row towards the town.

You arrived at what seemed like a beach and boarded your sorry boat, thanking any god that you could touch solid ground again. You took your bag, which had a few changes of clothes, a small bag with some money, and that bottle of water. You didn't take much from your old home, you didn't want to be burdened, and you were clear that as soon as you arrived on an island, you would look for a hostel to stay in and a job that would provide you with enough money to subsist. Your feet began to walk, climbing up the beach until you reached the streets of the city; but something was wrong there, you couldn't hear a soul, and you couldn't see anyone around. You simply continued on your way, getting into the alleys of the town, maybe you had embarked in an area that not many people passed through. It wasn't until you walked a while through the town that you reached the center, where your eyes were horrified by the pitiful sight in front of you. The houses were collapsed, dust and ash flew through the air and made your throat close when those particles entered your nostrils, small fires still burned in some of the destroyed houses, smoke came out of some of the homes, creating a smoky atmosphere around you and making you cough from time to time. What the hell had happened here? You kept walking slowly, looking around with fear that any of your steps would cause a collapse in some house.

From a distance, you managed to hear two people talking, hoping they were citizens, you turned around ready to go talk to them to find out what the hell had happened there; but when you turned around, what you saw did not seem like simple citizens. They were dressed in a striking way, to say the least, it seemed like they had escaped from a circus function. They quickly fixed their gaze on you "HEY! What the hell are you doing here?! You should be with the others!" said one of them as they quickly headed towards you. Your first instinct made you start running through the streets of the destroyed city and as expected those two individuals followed your steps running behind you at great speed. You gasped as you moved your head, directing your gaze behind you to see how close they were to you, you only managed to spot one of them, making you happy thinking that you had left one behind; but out of nowhere, you collided with something, falling backwards onto the dirty ground. You let out a groan as you watched who you had collided with was the other individual whom you thought you had left behind. "Well, well, look what we have here, a clever idiot who is not with his other little friends," muttered the first man as the second, who was behind you, aggressively grabbed your hair, forcing you to get up from the ground. "We're going to take you to your pathetic little village before you miss the show," he said, taking your wrists, keeping them together behind your back as they forced you to walk. What a mess you had gotten yourself into? Did they think you were part of the village? Were these people pirates? It made sense, just by looking at their clothes and how the city was. Damn, why did you have to have this bad luck? You had embarked on a village that had been taken over by pirates, of all things you could find, it had to be pirates, great..

The men took you to the port where you could see a huge pirate ship with purple colors decorated with golden details along the bow. Its sails had white and red stripes and the pirate skull that adorned the largest sail had a flashy red nose, which seemed to be that of a clown. In the middle of the ship was what looked like a big circus tent. Was that what the pirates meant by "losing the show"? You entered the tent and quickly a great chill ran down your spine at the sight of such a scene. The stands of what was a circus were full of people, whom you deduced were the people of this city. But what made your heart shrink was seeing them in terrible conditions, with handcuffs on their wrists and ankles, holding them in place. Their faces showed sadness and exhaustion. How could they do such a cruel thing? They had imprisoned children and the elderly, forcing them to watch a damn circus show. What kind of sick joke was this? The pirates who had brought you pushed you into one of the front row seats, making you sit down and quickly putting the same chains on you as the others. One of them took your chin, forcing you to look at his face, which was decorated with a cunning smile. "Enjoy the show, doll," he said. Then he aggressively let go of your face as he walked away laughing with his companion.

From one second to the next, without giving you time to blink, the lights went out and instead some spotlights made their appearance, moving from side to side while out of nowhere a large group of people came out, all dressed in a striking way, some juggling, others walking on stilts, some contortionist walking on stage moving their body in imaginable ways. You would have enjoyed it if you weren't in the situation you were in. A man passed in front of the audience, holding a large panel with the words "APPLAUSE" written on it and as if by magic the entire audience began to applaud.

"NO, NO, NO! Everything is wrong, everything is wrong!" could be heard from a distance as a clown? emerged from one of the central hallways. This man was undoubtedly the most attention-grabbing, wearing a large orange pirate hat with the same skull that was on the ship's sails in the center, two blue tassels hung on each side of the hat, a large jacket hung from his shoulders, which matched his hat due to the color, and some fur was attached to the opening of the jacket. His face was decorated with simple makeup, two blue lines above his eyelids that complemented his tassels, a bone cross on his forehead, his lips were colored with red paint, simulating that his smile was even bigger than usual, and finally his big, round red clown nose, was that thing real? "You are all damn useless! The contortionist should have come out after my appearance! Which should have been after the jugglers! Don't you know how to do damn things right!?" He muttered with great anger, causing the artists to shrink back at his screams.

"Wait a moment... That face looked familiar to you, that nose, that makeup, where had you seen it before? It seemed too familiar, but at that moment the information wasn't quite clear in your mind. The one who seemed to be the captain grunted irritably as he looked up, raising his arms and gesturing towards the same thing "And why the hell aren't the spotlights centered on the star of this damn show?!" Quickly, the main spotlight landed on the clown, who made him smile with sufficiency "That's much better. Your star has arrived, dear audience!" he said as the man from the poster quickly passed in front of the audience again, causing them to applaud again, everyone except you. Too lost in your thoughts trying to figure out where you had seen the pirate before, you didn't realize that the people had applauded, leaving you exposed among everyone else. Something that the captain did not overlook, his blue eyes fixed on you and he quickly approached you with furious steps, standing face to face, it was then that you came out of your memories, slowly raising your head to observe the man's face, who looked at you with annoyance and some curiosity "You... Why the hell haven't you applauded in my presence? Do you think you're some kind of rebel? Know, my dear, that that's going to get you in a lot of trouble" he said with a playful tone but certainly full of sadism. You swallowed, remaining silent before him, before the lack of response the man raised his eyebrow and his hands flew to your face, squeezing your cheeks tightly "Well, I want an answer... Unless the clown has eaten your tongue" he said in a playful way while the man from the poster took out another one where this time it said "LAUGHTER", the audience quickly began to laugh in a way that showed they were being forced. The clown made a serious face and moved his face away from yours, looking at the other spectators and finally at the poster man "Who said you should LAUGH?!" he said spitting angrily, causing the audience to fall silent in the blink of an eye, he turned his gaze back to your face, studying it carefully while the hand that held your cheeks moved from side to side, causing your face to move in the same way "Now that I think about it... It's the first time I've seen you..." "It's because I'm not part of this town" you finally said, looking at him as he seemed surprised by the sudden response, a smile formed on your lips as you released your cheeks "Whether or not you're part of this town, you must follow the orders given to you. Besides, you should be grateful to be enjoying the show of the Magnificent Buggy The Clown!" he said with an air of superiority and a big smile on his lips. Buggy... Buggy! There he was, that was it, you had seen this man on several posters of his search in your town for a high amount of money "I'm not going to applaud the show of a sadistic clown who has imprisoned an entire town for pure delight..." you said firmly to the pirate as you looked at him with disgust and anger. He looked at you again for several seconds, without a clear expression on his face, the silence piled up and broke when the man began to laugh out loud, as if what you had said had been the funniest joke in the world "Oh, but dear, my audience adores me, don't they?!" he said with that air of superiority while the audience quickly began to applaud, prey to the panic that something would happen to them if they didn't.

"They don't adore you! They're terrified because of you!" You said firmly, facing the fearsome pirate. He groaned in anger and grabbed your cheeks again, but this time in a much more aggressive way, feeling the fabric of his glove digging into your skin and sinking into your flesh. "Listen to me, you little brat! I'm not going to let someone like you ruin my show! So take back what you said if you don't want to regret it," he said in a serious and sadistic tone, his eyes fixed on yours. You swallowed hard and made a face, gathered saliva in your mouth, and spat it in the clown's painted face, causing him to close his eyes softly upon impact. The tension was palpable in the air as the clown remained motionless for a few seconds. His free hand passed over the trail of saliva on his face, picking up the fluid and looking at it on his glove for several seconds until a blow echoed throughout the tent. Buggy had slapped you with the hand he had used to pick up your saliva. You gasped at the impact, feeling the part of your cheek that had been hit start to heat up and turn red. He let go of your cheeks and grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you up and forcing you to stand while he looked at you with a small smile. "So that's how it is... Well, untie her!" Several pirates quickly approached you, unchaining you from the seat. Buggy pulled your hair again, making you groan in pain as you followed his clumsy steps. The pirate put you in the middle of the stage, watching you with amusement. He took a few steps back, but strangely, you didn't move, and you still felt your hair being pulled. You looked up and your eyes widened as you saw his arm still on top of you, holding your hair. It was separated from his body as if it were a simple toy. Buggy laughed playfully at your expression of surprise and terror, raising the limb that was missing and was on your head. "Do you want to see what else I can do?" he said with a mischievous tone as he raised his other hand with a surprised expression. In that hand, the one that was still gloved, there was no arm, and you felt someone touch your shoulder. You turned your head in confusion and saw his other flying hand in front of you, which grabbed a red ball. He squeezed it, and a strange red smoke filled your face. You wrinkled your nose as you inhaled that strange pungent smell that filled your senses, and you felt your eyes starting to close due to a great feeling of sleep that filled your body as soon as you smelled that smoke. In the midst of this, you saw the flying hand quickly moving towards your face and hitting it, causing you to fall to the ground completely unconscious.

Buggy smiled amusedly at seeing you unconscious on the floor and made his hands return to his body. He caressed your wrists and rolled up his gloves as he knelt in front of you, gently stroking your cheek. He stood up and looked at two of his crew members, gesturing for them to take you. "Take her to the cells... I think I'll keep her, she's quite interesting," he said playfully as he watched your unconscious figure for the last time until the captain's subordinates took you and brought you to the cells as their boss had ordered. Buggy turned around, facing his audience while the spotlight was still on him. "Let the show go on!"

Pt.2

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece #opla #one piece x reader #one piece buggy #buggy x y/n #op #op x reader #one piece live action #buggy x female reader #x reader #opla buggy

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alchemax-genetics-division · 10 months

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The Sleeping Habits of one Miguel O’hara

One-Shot || Peter B Parker x Miguel O’hara || Gen

This is unbeta’d, written in tumblr, and unedited, so any mistakes are mine alone! If there are any egregious errors, please feel free to (respectfully) reach out and I’ll fix them asap! I hope you enjoy!

———

No one had ever seen Miguel sleep. Doze, sure, but that was only late at night, and only if you were unlucky enough to wander into Miguel’s darkened lab when he hadn’t yet dragged himself back to wherever it was that he found even the scantest scrap of comfort. On nights like those, Miguel could be found slumped over the nearest lab table, forehead braced against his forearm on the tabletop. And then, mere moments later, his red eyes would blink open, as silent as a predator’s, glowing in the pitch-dark room, and the room’s occupancy would very quickly return to one.

But no one had ever seen Miguel sleep. The rumor mill abounded with speculation, each more ridiculous than the last, but only barely; he sleeps upside down like a bat, he sleeps stark naked, he sleeps in vats of fresh blood. Peter B had never paid such whisperings any mind, far more focused on his own sleep schedule and the toddler that wreaked havoc on it.

And then Peter B had confessed his feelings for his boss and, surprise of all surprises, hadn’t immediately gotten fired (or killed, he supposed, because he had seen Miguel’s talons in action and while their metal- and flesh-rending ability was agonizingly attractive in the field, he didn’t think Miguel would hesitate to use his natural weapons in any situation where he was uncomfortable, even emotionally.) Even more mind-bogglingly, Miguel had… reciprocated. Slowly, hesitantly, with all of the trepidation of someone who had been burned before, and then burned twice more for good measure.

It didn’t change much, if Peter were being honest with himself. He still co-parented with MJ. He still brought Mayday into Headquarters and, when the anomaly didn’t appear to be too dangerous, into the field. He still pestered Miguel within an inch of his life whenever he got the chance. He still wrangled spider-kids like he was paid to do it. He still did his job, when it was absolutely required of him to do so.

The only difference was that, now, he got to hold Miguel’s hand while he did it. Now, he got to throw a casual arm around Miguel’s shoulder while he made his characteristic dad jokes, giving Miguel a one-armed squeeze that conveyed more between them than words ever could. Now, he got to kiss Miguel for luck before every mission and he got to kiss Miguel in victory when they got back.

Their relationship didn’t change the fact, however, that Miguel was an incurable workaholic. Even with Peter pestering him to eat, leaving water bottles at his elbow during the day, and reminding him to sleep at some point during the night before leaving the lab to return to his shared apartment with MJ or (on nights where he hadn’t had Mayday at work that day) to the small living quarters in HQ that had been assigned to him, he knew that Miguel didn’t rest nearly enough. Something about vulnerability, Peter reasoned, and tried not to take it personally. Miguel didn’t rest around anyone; he hadn’t had the luxury of trusting the people around him and two months of love, no matter how all-encompassing or overwhelming, would change that.

So when Peter opened his HQ apartment door one night, more than ready to collapse against the nearest semi-horizontal surface and remain dead to the world for the next twelve hours straight, the last thing he expected to find was Miguel O’hara in his bed.

His first thought, irrationally, was that every single spider-person who had ever speculated about Miguel’s sleeping habits was dead wrong, because Miguel slept exactly like a normal person. Well, almost. He was on his back, which would’ve looked as stiff as a board (and therefore, not much of a difference from how he normally looked) if not for the almost delicate crossing of his bare ankles, the sleep-gentle curve of his fingers where they rested on his stomach, tilt of his head towards the window. The only light in the apartment came from the glow of the city through the window, casting a neon outline over the ridges of Miguel’s face, illuminating the long lines of his neck. Peter couldn’t help but to trace the length of the contorted muscles, twisted below Miguel’s skin; his gaze came to a rest in the tiny divot behind Miguel’s ear, a minuscule detail, so agonizingly human, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to press his lips to the fine bone of his boyfriend’s skull. He had the wherewithal to close the door, engaging the latch as quietly as possible so as not to wake the man in his bed and swearing softly when red eyes blinked open under a furrowed brow.

“Sorry love,” he whispered, toeing off his shoes and shucking his jacket to the floor. He could deal with then tomorrow. Right now, he needed to be in Miguel’s arms, preferably five minutes ago. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The city glow silhouette shifted, warping in the near-darkness, and Peter’s heart rate kicked up in his chest at the half-concealed movement, every instinct, carefully honed from decades of constant danger, screaming at him to defend himself from the shadow that slithered across the floor. But his spider-sense wasn’t activated; the skin-deep vibration that accompanied every impending blow like lightening to thunder was comfortingly absent. And then the shadow took shape, forming thick-knuckled fingers and a scarred forearm, extending towards him like an invitation, like a demand, like a plea.

Miguel’s half-lidded eyes were still locked on him, sleepily glazed, his face still slack with residual relaxation that hadn’t yet sloughed off from the force of full wakefulness, and Peter’s entire chest clenched. He didn’t try to resist the pull, drawn to Miguel’s side like a magnet. As he took the few steps to the bed, he shed his clothes and by the time he reached the edge of the mattress, little more than a hospital mat with ill-fitting sheets, he was down to his boxers and socks and even in the inky black room, he knew Miguel could see the red and blue webbed pattern that criss-crossed the fabric. Sure enough, when he stepped into Miguel’s line of sight, he heard a familiar huff of exasperation. Only two months of experience enabled him to detect the fondness that laced the sound like veined marble. Peter smiled to himself, smiled down at his sleep-softened boyfriend, smiled in gratitude to the universe.

If he had expected to be allowed to arrange himself in his own bed, he was sorely mistaken. As soon as his hands and knees indented the mattress, prepared to crawl into as comfortable a position as the thin mat could provide, Miguel had his arms around him, tugging him sharply across the remaining space between them. Before he could register the movement, Peter found himself crushed between the mattress and Miguel’s broad bulk, and he suddenly had a much better idea of how pancakes felt when he pressed them down into the pan with his spatula on mornings when he cooked breakfast for Mayday.

He and Miguel were of a height, a fact that was so well hidden by Miguel’s love of raised platforms and dramatic entrances that it shocked nearly everyone who saw them standing together, but his considerable shoulder breadth made Peter feel like an ant underneath Miguel’s body. Only his spider strength lent his lungs the force required to expand. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any stretch; it reminded Peter of the time he had nearly been crushed by a flying slab of concrete and emerged five minutes later with every joint in his body cracked, every vertebrae in his spine popped, and more limber than he had been before being slammed into the ground by two tons of rock and rebar. It was grounding, more grounding than Peter had realized he had needed.

The expansion of his chest must’ve given Miguel concern, however, because he made a noise, something like a grunt but far more sympathetic, and made to move. The second his weight lifted, Peter snaked his arms around his boyfriend’s torso, locking him in place, and Miguel collapsed back down with a huff of amusement.

“Feels good,” Peter mumbled into the side of Miguel’s head. Hair tickled at his cheek and lips but he didn’t dare pull away. Miguel hummed and shifted slightly, settling into a more comfortable but no less compressing position and within seconds, was fast asleep again. His breath ghosted over Peter’s neck where his face was tucked, pebbling the sensitive skin, and Peter’s thoughts raced.

The first position he had found Miguel in had made sense. Most spider-people slept on their backs, ready to protect themselves at a moment’s notice, all of their enhanced senses well within reach and easy use at the first sign of danger. But this, the baring of Miguel’s back to the room, the vulnerability in Miguel’s hidden face, especially for someone without spider senses, was shocking. It didn’t make sense.

Peter pondered it for a while, his mind circling itself like an endless game of chase, every go around converging on one central, illusive conclusion that stubbornly remained concealed.

And then Peter shifted. Nothing major, a mere twitch of his arm, an itch that needed to be scratched, a mindless movement. Immediately, he froze as Miguel’s entire body vibrated above him, a deep rumble emanating from the depths of his chest, his grip tightening around Peter’s torso to the point of creaking ribs and stuttered breath, and it clicked.

Oh.

Miguel had had an entire dimension stolen from him. A home, a family, a wife and daughter, all stolen unceremoniously right from under his nose. In the dead of night, with no warning or preamble, his entire world had collapsed into ruin and desolation and then nothing.

Suddenly his grip felt less crushing. The pressure hadn’t eased, and Peter knew that he’d have bruises in the morning, a ring of black and blue circling his chest, but he didn’t mind. Suddenly, he could feel the protectiveness that coursed through the muscles in Miguel’s arms. He could feel the challenge in his hold, as if daring the universe to try to steal Peter away from him. As if he’d fight God and man alike to keep Peter in his arms, and Peter knew he would.

Peter raised one arm, gently, softly, and placed it, gently, softly, in the thick mane of hair, curling it between his fingers, scratching at Miguel’s scalp with blunt fingernails.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he whispered, trusting enhanced senses to catch the barely-audible words. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, Miguel’s arms relaxed once more, returning from their current level of suffocating back to their previous level of merely constricting. His growling quieted to even purr, deepened further by the hand tangled in his hair.

Within minutes, the vibration rumbling through the entire bed, the scent of his own shampoo wafting from Miguel’s hair, and the weight of his boyfriend above him had lulled Peter into the deepest sleep he had ever gotten, and for once, he was blissfully untouched by nightmares.

———

Peter should’ve been prepared for the barrage of questions. Miguel had slipped from his room early the next morning, but not early enough to be undetected, and while the devil worked hard, but the rumor mill of the Spider Complex worked harder. So he should’ve braced himself for the onslaught of questions that the spider kids aimed at him as soon as he stepped foot into the dining hall for breakfast.

“Did Miguel sleep in your room last night?”

“Are the rumors true?”

“How much sleeping did you actually do?”

“Does he sleep at all or did he perch in the corner all night like a psychotic cat?”

That last one was the helpful input of Hobie and Peter rolled his eyes. It was far too early in the morning to deal with such pointed questions about his sex life and thinly veiled accusations about his boyfriend.

Across the room, he could feel the weight of Miguel’s gaze on him and a flick of Peter’s eyes revealed a subtle and convoluted maelstrom of emotions behind Miguel’s carefully schooled expression. Cautious hope warred with a silent plea and Peter could tell he was waiting for his response, waiting to see if Peter would reveal the depth of his vulnerability, the most sacred and coveted piece of him he had ever entrusted to Peter’s care.

With a half smile and a wink, Peter turned back to the gaggle of teenagers staring hopefully up at him, eyes wide and eager, fully expecting Peter to fuel the gossip circle and ready to take every word that dropped from his lips as gospel.

“Have you ever seen Interview with the Vampire?” Peter asked, grinning at the small chuckle he could hear floating from across the room, even over the sound of exaggerated gagging and riotous laughter that erupted around him. When he looked up, he met Miguel’s amused gaze, his eyes softened with gratitude and mirth, and they didn’t have to say anything. Even across the crowded room, their eyes said everything for them.

———

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!

Edit: If you’d like to leave some support in the form of kudos/comments, you can read this fic on AO3 here!

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #non canon compliant #spiderdads #soft #so soft #fluff #mentions of angst #but only to highlight the fluff #probably out of character but I don’t care #I’m so soft for them so I’m making them soft for each other #miguel o’hara x peter b parker #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #migeul o'hara #peter b parker

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seeingstarks · 11 months

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the cream on the cake wants to escape

summary : being newly signed to all elite wrestling, you don't know many people and expect no one to show up to your birthday party but end up with company of the devil himself and mr. best in the world. pairing : mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader cw : cursing, many sexual innuendos, teasing, breast grabbing/kneading, daddy/babygirl/daddy dynamic, implied cmjf references, thigh riding, cock/clit teasing, begging, male masturbation, blowjobs, dirty talk, double penetration, creampies, butt-plugs, slight bondage, ass slapping, utter filth. a/n : my birthday is in three days and with cm punk coming back soon i just had to whip something up also i love cmjf but basically this is something small i made for myself. i hope you all enjoy it though and as always reblogs are very much appreciated!! my ask box might be open soon for drabbles as i'm slowly getting the inspo for writing again. <3 there may be a few spelling/punctuation errors. word count : 2,518 words tag list : @josiewrites , @baysexuality

some of the talent backstage had their suspicions when you became apart of bullet club gold in just a matter of months after being signed to all elite wrestling.

the rumours began to spread, hushed whispers down the halls the moment you left a room. there was no getting away from your ex - however none of them knew what actually happened.

you carefully hand-wrote each invitation to your birthday party being held later that night, allowing everyone to bring a plus one. in each envelope corner you curled a cursive letter heart with your initials on it.

not knowing many people at all elite, you felt doubt that anyone would come. if you had known more people maybe they would have thrown you a surprise party instead of doing one for yourself.

with a sigh you sat down at catering after grabbing a boxed cupcake juice robinson gave you earlier but didn't have time to sit down and eat until now.

glancing around, not many seemed to even care or notice it was your birthday. they were either too wrapped up in their own lives or didn't see you sitting all alone.

pulling out a lighter from your jacket pocket you attempted to ignite the flame a few times but had no luck. "seriously, the one time where things go to absolute shit and it's my birthday!?" you cursed out weight shifting as you felt someone's presence next to you.

anyone but him. "how is my switchblade babe doin', aye? need a light?" jay questioned with a smirk before pulling out his lighter and igniting the candle on the cupcake as if it were nothing.

you rolled your eyes before even taking a glance at jay, "didn't need your help, and don't call me that. we're not together anymore. don't even know why we're in a stable together." you crossed your arms at your ex.

"wow.. last time i help a friend out. well, i'll leave ya' be then." jay stood up and walked away while you took the wrapper off your cupcake and took a bite from the sweet treat.

a single tear fell down from the corner of your eyelid, today of all days you felt most lonely. the salty liquid ran all the way down to your lips and you didn't want anyone to see you crying. luckily bullet club gold wouldn't be needing the locker room today as you booked it and locked the door behind you.

the rest of the day seemed to go by at an agonizingly slow pace, you began to set up pastel decorations and blew up a few balloons as the clock ticked down nearing the time for guests to arrive.

walking into the washroom, you fixed up your h/c hair and brushed it off to the side while fixing your black dress which hugged your curves perfectly. not having the time to put a bra on or even caring about it, you shrugged while looking in the mirror and threw a light jean jacket on over the dress while slipping on a pair of combat boots, comfort and style.

once ready, you took a seat on the sofa and waited a good ten minutes before someone knocked on the door, "coming!!"

once seeing who was in your doorway your mouth fell agape, so many questions filling your mind but words unable to form.

"you 'gonna just stand there or welcome me in, i'll move ya' if i have too." shaking your head, you simply giggled and stepped aside.

"how- when- where?" you questioned and raised an eyebrow while looking the chicago native up and down who did indeed age like fine wine.

"okay.. see lemme' explain. me and uh- let's say a co-worker of mine paid off the others not to come in order for you to have a special night, that is... if you want."

you punched phil on the chest, who didn't flinch the slightest. the chicago native pretending to be hurt and scrunching up his face, "ouch that hurt soooo much."

"i was crying earlier and this so called co-worker of yours is nowhere to be seen!" you yelled at him and punched the man once again.

"shhh, babygirl. there he is." your eyes left his and looked up to meet with a pair of dark hues belonging to the devil himself who locked the door behind him.

"aw, are you two getting started without me?" maxwell asked.

gulping thickly you hid you your face in the crook of the chicago native's neck, your cheeks starting to heat up the moment phil wrapped his large hands around your waist and gave a slight squeeze.

"so brave before and now look at her hiding... we're gonna' have fun with you tonight, such a shy doll isn't that right?" maxwell taunted and approached the two of you, the heat of his breath running down your own neck sending chills down your spine, "but tonight is all about the birthday girl.. tomorrow me and phil have our fun.. that is if you can still walk by the time we're done."

stepping away from phil momentarily, you allowed him to still hold your hips as you looked up at him with a soft smile. "well... i've always wanted to try thigh riding.." you admitted shyly while glancing between the two men as they each shared a knowing look which could only mean trouble.

"oh? whose thigh do you wanna ride first?" phil pulled you in closer, rubbing his hands along your curves and pressing his growing hard on up against you, "look what you're doing to me already baby.."

maxwell smirked as another pair of hands went behind your figure, going under your shirt and massaging your breasts as you let out a soft moan for the devil, "fuck- not wearing a bra, is that just for daddy?" he asked and pinched your nipples causing a whine to escape your lips all at the same time when phil brushed the tip of his cock up against your clothed entrance.

"n-no it mm- happened by coincidence but i will make sure to wear em' less for both my daddies." you responded with a grin.

"did you hear that phil? she's got two daddies now- will be fun adding a chick into our little adventures, hm?" max questioned the chicago native who simply nodded as the two men continued to tease you.

throwing your head back you let out another moan, your underwear soaked at this point simply by the fact of phil teasing your clothed clit with his cock and maxwell tormenting your breasts with his hands, kneading at them as your nipples hardened under his touch, "more daddy- please-" you begged and took a sharp breath.

lifting your arms up, maxwell helped rid you of the black dress and phil briefly picked you up off your feet to slip the combat boots which were discarded haphazardly toward the floor.

you looked down and attempted to take your underwear off which caused phil to shake his head, "not yet, baby. don't think we forget about your little request."

phil took his clothing off and laid back on the sofa, luring you over with a finger wave as you straddled his thigh he pushed his knee up against your clit.

"go ahead and get off on my thigh, babygirl." your cheeks heated up once given permission as you began to ride his thigh, soft whimpers and moans already falling from your lips at the friction being created from your underwear.

"look at you.. soaked already and you haven't even had a cock inside you yet. just imagine how messy you're gonna be with both me and max inside you." the mere thought of what phil just said caused you to ride his thigh even faster, the moans becoming louder, your attention being adverted for a moment as you looked over in the corner to see maxwell jerking himself off in the chair, "don't stop doll, 'wanna watch." he spoke with a pant and you kept eye contact with maxwell while moaning out, "mmm-fuck!"

you were clearly falling apart on the chicago native, his cock hard while watching the curved beauty above him get off on just his thigh. "daddy- i'm so close-" you whined and grinded up against the man before making even more of a mess in your underwear.

"fuck- i'm close too babygirl-" maxwell spoke in broken breaths and phil gave you the okay to leave his thigh but not before he took your underwear as a sort of token to his accomplishments.

you crawled off the sofa, ass in the air which was definitely a sight to see for phil as your clit was still soaked from moments before. you dropped down to your knees infront of maxwell who had cum already dripping from the tip of his cock.

you stuck your tongue out and gave him kitten licks, looking up at maxwell with hooded eyes as his hands wrapped around in your hair and tugged gently while you took more of his length in and sucked lovingly. the man was already edging himself so it didn't take long for him to fill the entirety of your mouth with his warm seed, "i forgot to buy cake but that was some good as hell frosting." you smirked and wiped the remainder of the cum off your lips.

"always more where that came from, baby. however when the clock strikes midnight we get to have fun our way."

"what does your way entail exactly, phil?" you asked in a shy tone.

"well.. let's just say instead of crying over a stupid ex it will be because of overstimulation or.." phil looked around the room, a smirk growing on his lips, "cause we tied you up with this pastel ribbon. all depends if you're a good girl for us or not. isn't that right?"

you nodded your head, "yes sir, but i rather like that idea."

maxwell stood up from the chair and approached you, "what do you say we try it out tonight?"

you nodded your head so fast if you were a bobble head it would have popped off, eager to have more fun with the two men. "yes, pretty please."

"oh.. look how desperate she is to be tied up and filled with two cocks... think she can handle us both at the same time?" maxwell asked phil.

"let's find out and see."

phil picked you up and carried you to the sofa, placing kisses on each wrist before tying them together with pastel ribbon.

"ass up, legs spread." maxwell used a demanding tone of voice which had you dripping, he ran his fingers along your folds, "such a good girl already. prepared for the devil to corrupt you?" it wasn't a question, more of a warning as he slid into your entrance, giving you little time to adjust in attempts to grasp at the sofa.

"fuck, such a beautiful sight. look at her already clenching onto you so tight max.." phil hummed and entered himself slowly into your asshole, nearly hissing at how tight you were.

"p-phil- you're huge!" you yelled out, head barely able to think of a single thought while being stuffed full of two humongous cocks.

phil slapped you on the ass while entering the rest of his cock into you slowly as maxwell started to thrust, "that's daddy to you, got it?"

"uh-mhmm! yes daddy!" words became incoherent mumbles once the two men picked up speed, both making sure you were okay but at the same time whispering absolute filth into your ears as you clenched around their lengths as if your life depended on it.

"f-fuckk! you both feel amazing!" grunts and groans alike fell from both their lips and you could've sworn you heard them both call each other daddy, leaving you to wonder what they did in the midnight hour before adding a woman into the mix. you were never one to judge but with you there it was three times the charm.

the moans became increasingly louder as they pounded into you relentlessly, you'd all probably end up with a noise complaint sooner or later.

"go ahead and cum babygirl.. we can feel how close you are." you felt the heat of the chicago native's breath up against your ear, "yes sir." the flood gates were open as you came around maxwell's cock and he released inside of you while phil did the same. the three of you continued to ride out the high but you were the most worn out.

phil was the first to pull out as cum dripped from his tip all the way down from your asshole, "i was 'gonna save this for later but.. you should open it now." he handed you a small black box wrapped with a gold bow, the contents inside being a butt-plug.

your eyes went wide as you looked over at the chicago native, "what am i supposed to do with this?"

"think y'know.. sweetheart.. want you to sleep with it in as a reminder who owns that ass." he smirked and took the plug from your hand before inserting it inside your body.

"y-yes sir, thank you for the gift daddy." you placed a kiss to the chicago native's lips which he then returned and nipped at your lower lip, leaving you to want more.

maxwell had been keeping you warm in a way with his cock as you felt him continue to twitch inside you, a whine falling from your lips when he pulled out aswell.

"don't worry baby. there is much more where that came from." maxwell revealed a brown gift bag with the words burberry inscribed on the outside.

you sat back on the couch, still panting a bit while opening the gift from max which was a matching set of burberry lingerie in just your size, on the side was a pair of angel ears.

pouting you looked between the two men and they each furrowed their eyebrows, "what's wrong, baby?"

"just wanted something to keep this cum inside me. love being full of both my daddies icing like a cake." you grinned up at them as phil had something hid behind his back, a matching plug to the one gifted, "you're in luck."

yawning, the night activities started to take a toll on you so you got dressed in the lingerie which would surely be torn apart by morning and you kept the chicago native's gifts quite warm aswell.

once returning from the washroom, maxwell and phil were in their boxers and you cuddled up between them on the sofa before shutting your eyes as they each placed a kiss to your cheek.

"how was your birthday?" maxwell asked as you rested against his shoulder and you scratched the chicago native's beard softly, noticing him start to drift off toward slumber with your loving touch.

"best birthday ever. thank you both so much. now get some sleep, knuckleheads."

phil slapped your ass playfully in response, "goodnight, babygirl."

#mjf #cm punk #maxwell jacob friedman #cmjf #mjf x reader #mjf x female reader #mjf x fem reader #cm punk x female reader #cm punk x fem reader #mjf smut #cm punk smut #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #cm punk (gn)#all elite wrestling smut #wrestling fanfiction

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ciaoteamo · 2 years

Text

☎️ Telephone ☎️

pairings: corky x f!reader

summary: Corky and (Y/N) are phone buddies that plan to hang for the first time.

part II

warnings: probably spelling errors

╔═════════☆♡☆ ═════════╗

further warnings: none

“i’m just saying, pineapples belong on pizza, it’s for the finest of people” You hear Corky chuckle through the phone.

“you’re saying that you’re one of the finest people?“ You tease.

“…what if i were? would you stop making excuses to not let me over?” She teased back.

“you know my reasoning… plus i have nothing fun over here” You almost pout as you look around your boring home.

“we can always improvise, i’m lonely (Y/N)” She pleads. You giggle at her behavior and roll your eyes.

“well then… have any plans for tomorrow?” You ask.

“none whatsoever” She answers.

“well be here at around… 9. i should be off by then” You reply.

“well then…” Her sentence halted as she yawned. “it’s a date”

“okay, goodnight sleepyhead” You joke.

“goodnight, (Y/N)” She says and you hang up. You tuck yourself into bed, barely able to calm your nerves about what was to come tomorrow. Your first hangout with your crush.

THE FOLLOWING DAY

You rush into your apartment with your arms full of groceries, almost dropping them a few times. You reach your small kitchen island and place the heavy bags down with a sigh. Here goes nothing.

HOURS LATER

A knock is heard at your front door just as your timer goes off for the food. You hurriedly open the oven door and grab the heavy tray of food with your mitts.

You rush towards the door and take a deep breath to calm your nerves. “it’ll be fine” You say quietly. You open the door to reveal Corky leaned up against the door frame, flowers in hand.

“good afternoon, beautiful” She grins.

“good afternoon, are these for me?” You say, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“nah, i just like to carry roses around” She replies.

“okay smart ass” You both laugh and she hold the bouquet out for you.

“may i?” She asks, glancing behind you. You hum and step to the side, closing the door as she walks in.

“where do you want these?” She asks, slowly walking as she looks around your humble home.

“you can sit them on the table, i’ll put them in a vase later” You answer.

You head back towards the kitchen and peel back the aluminum that covered your famous lasagna. You’ve gotten a lot of complements for it over the years so of course it would be your go-to.

“i hope you like lasagna” You say aloud before grabbing two plates from your cabinet.

“not a big fan, actually, but maybe yours is different” You hear from behind. You turn ti see her walking towards you, her leather jacket she wore at the door, now gone. Allowing you to see her tattoos and slim body.

You fix the plates for the two of you and lead her to the dining table. “want a drink?” You ask as she sits down.

“….have any beer?” She asks.

“of course” You grin and shake your head.

“what?” She asks.

“oh nothing… nothing” You chuckle. You grab her a beer and yourself a water as you head back out. The two of you reminisced on conversations you’ve had on the phone, resulting in small breaks of laughter and/ or embarrassment.

Eventually, the room got quiet aside from the clanking and eating noises that occurred.

“thanks for the flowers, they’re really pretty” You say.

“oh yeah! i came across them after work” She says.

“how is work?” You ask.

“pretty good, nothing to really complain about… it’s simple. what about you?”

“only thing i can complain about is the lack of flexibility, i can hardly go anywhere fun, you know?” You pick around at your food with your fork, no longer feeling hungry.

“we can always bring the fun to us” Corky retorts. You look up from your plate to find her looking at you with a devious smile.

“you’re bad” You laugh.

“well, bad girls have all the fun” She shrugs. “this lasagna is absolutely amazing by the way. the last time i had it, it tasted like shit” Corky says with the straightest face ever.

The fact that you could tell that she was being serious made your cheeks tingle as you became bashful. “stop” You look away before going to collect the china.

“i’m serious, i usually hate this stuff” She raises her eyebrows.

“well i’m glad i made it enjoyable, i have strawberry shortcake in the fridge for dessert if you would like a slice?”

“did you make that too?” She asks.

“nope, not that much of a cook” You joke. You toss the dishes int he sink and pull out the cake. You grab two more plates from your cabinet and take a knife to the table.

“looks good” Corky states. You hum in agreement and pop the top off.

“so…” You start as you cut her a slice. “you mentioned bringing the fun earlier. care to give a few examples? it gets boring pretty quickly” You say.

“sure, there’s plenty to do… you can paint, work out, do some yoga, make a meal you’ve never made, call a friend, binge movies, play games..” She lists.

“well, what do you usually do?”

“i mainly go out to bars or eat at restaurants “

“i see… did you want to do any of the things you listed tonight?” You speak before taking in a forkful of cake.

“i say watch a movie and play a game” She finished her cake.

“i don’t have any games though, it never crossed my mind to grab any” You admit. Plus you’re here alone all the time, why would you need a game.

“that’s okay, there’s verbal games” She gets up and takes the cake into the living room, sitting in on your coffee table. You open up an entertainment center drawer and pull out your collection of movies.

“which one?” You ask as you present her the bin. She digs through a bit before quickly lifting one from the pile.

“awe man, i like this movie” She says.

“Dirty Dancing… i like this one too” You smile. You put the movie in and turn off any unnecessary lighting.

“you really like that cake huh?“ You joke.

“i do, you might have to take it away” She chuckles.

“by all means, eat as much as you want” You surrender.

A while passes and the whole time all you could think about, was how your crush was in your living room, basically having a date with you.

“truth or dare” Cory says out of nowhere.

“uhh.. truth”

“have you ever done it with another girl?” She asks.

“nope” You answer simply.

“guy?”

“… are you trying to go more than once?” You ask.

“are you a virgin?” She asks.

“truth or dare, corky” You smile.

“…truth” She chuckles and shakes her head.

“is there anyone that you’re interested in?” You ask.

“ not too sure, we should come back to that.” She answers. You hum and she does the same. “truth or dare?”

“truth”

“what about you?”

‘Should I? It’s not like she’ll know for certain.. i don’t want to embarrass myself and lose my chance though..’ You think.

“…yeah… there is” You direct your attending back to the TV feel her eyes on you. Looking you up and down. “truth or dare?” You ask, trying to keep your cool.

“i say dare”

“i dare you…” You look around the house for an idea. But something better popped into your head. “i dare you to show me your best fake O” You grin.

“that’s heavy” She scratched her head. “don’t think i do this often” She points at you. You put your hands up as if surrendering.

“wouldn’t dream of it” You reply. She knits her eyebrows and slightly parts her lips before making the most exotic expression. She starts breathing heavy and put and arm on the table to keep herself upright.

She suddenly stops and goes back to her first position. “and scene, legs would be shaking of course, but, can’t do that in jeans” She shrugs.

“ top notch performance” You joke.

“ thank you thank you” She bows with a laugh.

“alright, truth or dare (Y/N). careful what you pick” Corky teases.

“why do you have to sound like such a menace” You jokingly roll your eyes. “dare”

“… let me pick what you wear for the rest of the game” She tilts her head, mockingly.

“sure, let’s go” You reply, seemingly unprovoked. Deep down, you were hoping that she wouldn’t pick something provocative. Or maybe you were hoping for the opposite.

“don’t talk about my bed sheets, they were my grandmas” You start off.

“i can tell” She chuckles and you walk her towards your wardrobe.

“ha ha.” You mock dryly. “ there are clothes here and in my drawers, do your worst” You sit on the edge of the bed, tilting your head as you watch Corky sort through your clothes.

A few minutes later, she’d found the small section of your mothers old clothes that she handed down to you. She held up the dress your mother used to love most.

It was all black, sweet heart collared, off shoulder, maxi, and paired beautifully with her pearls. You remember when she’d tell you about how she met your father while wearing that dress.

“oh man” Corny says before looking at you with an excited face. It made you smile to see her like that. “this is the one” She nods. You take the dress from her and head to your bathroom to put it on.

Once you got it adjusted, you walked back out, only to find her no where around the room. You walk into the hall and out into the living room.

There she was, ‘man spreading’ on the couch with yet, another slice of shortcake. “you’re gonna regret eating all of that later” You put a hand on your hip.

“well let me be the judge of th…” Her speech fades as she turned her head to look at you. The way she stared directly at your face, mouth agape, made you shy.

“is it not what you expected?” You ask, confused.

“not at all… in a good way, i mean” She gets up, looking you up and down as she makes her way over.

“is Corky the player blushing right now?” You grin at her.

“ *pshh* you’re seeing things” She denies. You hum and she sets her remaining cake on the table. Her hands find your waist while your arms subconsciously wrapped around her neck.

I've been meaning to tell you

I look at you and I fantasize

You're mine tonight

Hungry Eyes plays from your television as the two of rock side to side. “heh, this is so cliché” You shake your head.

“well i’m loving cliché” She says, looking into your eyes with her infamous grin.

“mm” You try to match her boldness by carrying out the game. “so… truth or dare Corky” You keep the eye contact.

“Dare” She answers. You look up while you think briefly look down at the coffee table.

“okayy… grab your plate” She stares at you and you avoid her gaze. You could tell she was confused. But regardless, she granted your wish.

“now what?” She asks. You dip her fingers in the whip cream frosting and rub the white substance onto your collarbone.

“you know what to do” You grin at her.

“you’re somethin’ else” She shakes her head. Her eyes were focused on yours while she took her time getting close, building up your nerves.

Her tongue ran over your skin as if it’s been doing it for years. You knew she was experienced, she applied pressure, and traced every dip in the area.

Once the cream was gone, she pulled back with a smirk, and you put one on as well. “ i think i have my answer now” She starts and you look at her in confusion. “to your truth?”

“ohh, what is it?” You ask.

“definitely interested in someone” She answers, waiting for a response from you. You felt your heart skip a beat as your confidence slowly shrank.

“that’s funny..” You take the hand you dipped and raise it to your face. “ i’m interested in someone too” You say before sucking her fingers clean, earning that devilish smile from her.

This was, hands down, the best game of truth or dare you’ve played.

(A/N): this is a brain fart write, just smile and wave😭

#x reader #ciaoteamo #corky #corky bound #bound #bound corky #wlw #pride #glg #lgbtq #lesbians #gxg #gxg imagine #corky imagine

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ghl-osty · 4 months

Text

fanfiction

i’d like to talk about fanfiction real quick because there are some issues really frequently that can make or break a story. and they’re avoidable!! and it makes me so sad when i’m trying to read a good fanfic and there’s so many errors that i have to stop.

NAMES

so this is one i see surprisingly often… please make sure you know how to spell a character’s name when writing a fanfiction. it’s usually something small like damian vs. damien or lucas vs. lukas but to me it’s so distracting and disappointing when there’s a beautifully written story with a character’s name spelled wrong.

SPELLING

this is a big one, too. when writing, some people don’t always have a spell check or an editor built in to their platform. if that’s you, please triple check your work! and here are a few frequent ones i see-

-shook vs. shock

i shook his hand

i was in shock that she did such a horrible thing

-peaked vs. piqued

-he looked like he peaked in high school

-they piqued my interest

blonde vs blond

-she had blonde hair

-he had blond hair

blonde is a gendered word. i’m not actually sure how it’s used with nonbinary people, let me know!

their, there, and they’re

-it was theirs

-she’s over there

-they were scared, and now they’re not

remember that they’re is a contraction of they are!

quite vs. quiet

she tried to be quiet, not making any noise.

they were quite bored with this whole event.

(thank you to @nathaaaan for the suggestion)

SERIES VS. SERIE

i watched a really good series yesterday

serie isn’t actually a word…

BILINGUAL CHARACTERS

please, please, please do some research if you write a character who speaks another language. even if it’s reading other fanfictions to figure out how your character’s language fits in with the language you’re writing with.

-having a character to say that it’s ’hard to switch back’ is… unrealistic at best. i wouldn’t recommend using it.

-please gender the words correctly! in most of the romance languages, words are gendered. make sure to add that in!

REPETITION

unless you’re going for a gimmick, i’d be careful with repetition. having a character say something more than once, especially in the same sentence, can be annoying and makes the dialogue sound forced.

especially the word antics…. i literally had to put a fic down because ‘antics’ was in every other sentence.

ex: “Lily sighed, annoyed. She was so annoyed!”

(yes this is a real actual example with the character name changed. don’t let this be you.)

FORMATTING

i think this can be overlooked a lot but format is important!!!

-paragraph breaks!! seeing a huge chunk of words with absolutely no breaks is overwhelming. add some space!

-“the punctuation goes inside the quotations.” he said

-i know i’m being a bit of a hypocrite, but capitalization! names, beginning of sentences, and places!! if you don’t capitalize, at least be consistent with it!

“This is how fanfiction, or really any writing, should be formatted.” Eli said with a smile

“And every new sentence should be a paragraph break,” interjected Alex, “Unless you’re going for a certain style. In which case, you do you.”

Eli sighed. “That’s true, Alex. What OP didn’t know was that tumblr has a formatting issue, so that when she posts this, the paragraph breaks won’t show! She hopes she fixed it. But it might not work!”

“We can always imagine the bullet points as paragraph breaks.”

-friendly neighborhood reminder that paragraph breaks happen when introducing a new idea as well!

-bolds and italics are important.

“I told him not to go,” acceptable, a bit dry.

“I told him not to go,” exquisite, flavorful.

and as always. please make sure they’re talking like people. not disney sitcom characters.

PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE TENSE

you would not believe how much i see this messed up. and it’s easy to get wrong. remember, you can always look something up if you aren’t sure. but stay consistent with your tenses!

past tense

She walked up to the drab, grey building, trembling. As she pulled the door open, a bell rang, signaling her arrival.

this one’s probably the most used. notice that it’s almost like we’re retelling the story, after it’s already happened (hence past tense)

present tense

She walks up to the drab, grey building, trembling. She pulls the door open, and a bell rings to signal her arrival.

we have to change quite a few words for the same sentence to make sense in present tense.

future tense

She’ll walk up to the drab, grey building, trembling. She’ll pull the door open, and a bell will ring to signal her arrival.

i honestly don’t think i’ve ever seen future tense used in a novel unless it’s used in dialogue. but it’s almost as if you’re speaking hypothetically about an event.

but please make sure you’re consistent with these! don’t use one and then switch to another!!

but all in all just double check your writing, always!!! there are so many good works out there that could be great.,… if you don’t have someone to beta read you can always send it to me or put it in word <3

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godisaturtle · 2 months

Note

Waywardtale seems really interesting so far, can I get some more details?(please info dump if you have time I love it when people infodump)

OK THIS MIGHT BE A BIT MESSY BC IT'S AN INFODUMP

Also I have the designs for a lot of characters! Still working on them 💔💔

EXPLANATION!!!!!!:

So this whole au revolves around Charlie, and she falls into the mountain instead of Chara, so it's like, if Chara never fell

And she's totally freaked out by the whole situation with the monsters because she was one of those homeschooled kids where their parents won't teach them things they don't want them to know, so she has no idea who or what the monsters are. Sooo she kinda kills a few monsters out of panic-- smaller ones like froggit?

But Toriel takes her in because she feels bad and also because that's just what she does

Charlie gets used to it a bit, but still has a weird grudge, especially for the people outside of the ruins? But she also doesn't exactly know who they are, not really

So flash forward a bit, they're now angsty teens and the Dreemurrs leave to New Home because the ruins are getting way too out of shape

However, Chalrie and Asriel had a huge fight, and turns out she's developed some sort of small agoraphobia? So she ends up staying in the ruins. They would've taken her with them but she didn't wanna go because she was worried about what else might've been out there

And so Charlie ends up being the new Toriel, taking care of the ruins and what not. Yknow knock knock jokes the whole shabang, but she doesn't exactly have the same bond as Toriel and Sans. Every time she hears a knock knock joke she's like "your jokes fucking suck" and Sans is like "I think they're humerous" ba dum tss and then she's like "that was awful....tell me another". Just more of Charlie needing someone to keep her company so she doesn't go absolutely insane

But the difference in this is, humans aren't really interested in the monsters rn since the whole Asriel and Chara thing didn't happen

So no one's coming down to the mountain

And Error is like "this is a waste of space???? They're literally doing nothing it's so boring" and so he starts messing up stuff in the universe to be like "oh, whoops looks like it's defective and it's totally not my fault"

Ink ends up visiting the au one day in the ruins when he's fixing whatever Error had done and Charlie finds him and she's like "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU" and he's like "NOO NO NO I'M SAFE I PROMISE LOOK" and draws some stupid looking doodle, which is probably the worst way to plead your case

They talk for a bit, be it begrudgingly, but he has to calm her down somehow. And then he finds out she's been alone all this time and decides to become her friend to keep her company. Error finds our and is like "YOU'RE RUINING MY WHOLE PLAN ARE YOU SERIOUS" His jealous rage gets the best of him for sure, but also just normal rage, and he attempts to destroy the universe

Again

And again

And it's not really working

And that's all l've got

Just Ink being friends w her and distracting her from the fact that Error is probably trying to blow up that au

#waywardtale #undertale #undertale au

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alexiswritingstuff · 1 year

Text

Human. Pt 3.

Masterlist

Status: Complete.

Pairing: Castiel x gn! reader.

Other appearances; Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: After a long day, Castiel and the reader are back in the motel. Once the recently found wound had been fixed up, and healed in more ways than one, the new human is shown that he is truly safe.

Content/Warnings: fluff, descriptions of an injury, crying.

Other parts: one - two - three

A/N: ... I might have gotten carried away so this might just be a bit long... Also, I did read this over, but like any other post, be aware of spelling errors.

I hope you enjoy!

Tag list- @elizabeth-skywalker - @aliceblxck - @illusionesdecigs

(Gif source)

The moment that you had got out of the car, Castiel had insisted that the bags and boxes needed to be carried were divided evenly between the both of you. And that meant that when the door of the motel room was offically closed, a chorus of sighs exhaled through the quiet air.

The piles of the new items were now sprawled across the surface when they were placed on the table, and even on top of the drawer set, once there was no more space.

The relief from the lack of weight caused yet another sigh to, immediately, pass through your lips as you made your way through the room.

You ended up by the bed, and turned around at the last second before letting your body just simply collapse. Your back sunk into the mattress while Castiel flicked on a light.

“Okay,” you whispered after staring at the ceiling for a moment, and pushed yourself upright until you were in a sitting position.

Your finger pointed towards the man once he was located, “You,” you announced, and patted the spot beside you on the bed as you looked at him. He complied.

While Castiel did as asked and sat on the mattress, you had moved to the bottom of the bed where that duffle bag was, and began digging through it before pulling out the small first aid kit you had packed...

Just in case.

You put the kit on the bed, and unzipped it to reveal the contents, “All right, Cas,” you began once you had the required equipment, “I need you to...” The sentence you had to say fully processed in your mind upon making eye contact. And you paused, causing him to furrow his eyebrows. “What?”

“Uh,” You cleared your throat, “I-- Do you wanna, maybe, change into a t-shirt... or something? I need you to-- I need to access your wound.”

“I can’t, uh... I can’t reach it because of your long sleeves.”

Castiel looked down at his clothes. “Oh.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt thinking for a second, “Yes, of course. Sorry.” And with that, he began to pull off his jacket, slowly taking an arm out of the wrinkled material.

Though, when he got to the other one, there was a sound that spilt through his lips when the limb moved in a certain way. A sound, that you then realised, he had been making, and tried to hide from you, the entire day.

A wince.

“Oh, Cas,” you whispered under your breath. But the moment of pity was cut short after your eyes focused back on his movements. The red hoodie had been discarded meaning that he was left in the blue dress shirt.

He reached for the buttons.

Your eyes shifted within an instant, the air catching in your throat while you tried to focus on absolutely anything for a distraction... The only problem with that, however, was that you kind of needed to look at him to do your job.

So, after taking in a deep breath, to replenish your lungs, and also do a silent prayer, your gaze went back to where it was before.

The shirt was now gone.

As soon as Castiel started to turn his head in your direction, waiting for the next command, you had wanted nothing more than to turn your own away. But you didn’t. You sucked everything up, and simply sat back down in your previous spot.

Finally, your attention settled on the injured arm that now was pretty much bare, surprisingly, apart from a dressing that covered the wound.

It may have been a rag, and it may have been almost completely soaked in blood. But at least he knew what to do.

“Nice job, Cas.” you complimented, and began unwinding the material. Trying to be as gentle as you possibly could, even if this was the least painful part of the process.

And as you did so, there were quite a few times when the tips of your fingers would end up brushing against Castiel’s skin, which in return made his back instinctively straighten. Almost every single time.

“All right,” you breathed once the tattered rag had come loose, and pulled it off, throwing it into a bin that sat in the corner.

The hours of anticipation, anxiousness, and constant waiting was over. The wound that your mind had been practically obsessing over was revealed. And it glared right back at you.

The skin surrounding the laceration, that wasn’t smudged with the fiery substance, was raised. Irritation and inflammation clear across the surface.

The centre of it all was a mix of dried and fresh blood, about a day or so old. Some of it had almost been absorbed into his skin, but the rest had just clung. “Jeez...”

“Well, you’re lucky it didn’t get infected.”

After taking a second to glance at Cas, letting another deep breath filter through your system, your hands officially made contact with the bare skin to test the severity.

You were careful, making sure that your fingertips only grazed over the areas beside the wound, that felt warm to the touch. “So,” you began, not wanting the silence to take back its place, “You really are human, huh?”

He didn’t respond for a moment.

You couldn’t tell if it was because he was just thinking, or because he didn’t like the question. But soon his head nodded, a slight huff of air sifting through his lips, “I guess so.”

“Wow...” you breathed out in disbelief, “I-- I knew what happened, you know, when angels lost their grace, but I didn’t... I never really thought about the effects. The aftermath.”

Castiel hummed in response, “Well... You’re not the only one.”

You leaned back for a moment, rubbing your fingers together, before you reached for the duffle bag again and this time, you pulled out a cloth.

With a mild grunt, you pushed yourself back off of the bed, and made your way towards the bathroom. Stopping at the sink.

You twisted the tap with the red circle, let the water run until it gave off a good amount of heat, soaked the cloth in it, and then turned it off again. The remaining drops splattered into the sink bowl as you wrung out the liquid trapped in the linen.

Castiel’s eyes were already aimed in your direction by the time you walked through the bathroom door again. He watched as you approached with the cloth, and continued as you sat down beside him. “Alright.”

“Take a deep breath for me,” you instructed, and after he did so, his back straightening up once again. The damp linen touched down.

The cleaning process first started around the edges of the wound. It definitely wasn’t the worst part, but every movement had your eyes flickering up to search his face for any trace of pain.

“What even happened anyway?” you questioned once your attention had fully fixated on the injury. “Did you steal something? Play a trick on a person who couldn’t take a joke?”

Castiel scoffed, “No,” His face twitched when the cloth hit a tender spot, “No, no, I... I guess I just trusted the wrong person.”

The comment broke your focus yet again as you looked back up to find his face, however, you found that he had turned his head away.

Now, Cas was just staring into the distance while he fiddled with his hands. An attempt to distract himself from both the stinging sensations and the attention.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Trusting the wrong person ended with you getting attacked with a knife?” you questioned in a way that you hoped was jokey, and flipped over the cloth to use the other side.

Castiel sucked in a breath, sort of stretching his neck to the side when his brain fixated too much on the feelings on his arm. “That is always possible, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t there a saying... ‘Stranger danger’?”

You huffed a laugh, lightly shaking your head at the remark. And then Cas managed a full sigh. “But, uh... It wasn’t just that, it was... vanity.”

Once again, the amusement felt had been sucked right back. And when you went to look at him, this time, he eyes were directed at the floor. A form of reluctance shifting through his demeanour.

Your brows furrowed again when he continued. “I thought I was more important, more effective than I am-- That I could... fix everything that happened.” He took in a deep breath, letting his eyes flicker about the room before starting to talk again.

“Now all I can do is keep running.”

Earlier, you had commanded him to give you the details. All of your own worries and concerns had blinded you from his own. But in that moment, as you looked at him, it seemed that your mind hadn’t fully prepared itself to receive it.

The guilt, shame, regrets. All of which purely seeped through his words, and across his features. He looked drained. Again.

After looking at the man for another second, you placed the cloth to the side, beginning to rummage through your duffle bag, that you now brought to your side, to find a towel.

“This’ll probably still hurt.” you informed with a quieter voice, avoiding his eyes when you felt them being aimed in your direction.

It was like you could feel everything that he did.

Obviously, it wasn’t to the same extent. But every time you saw that look on his face, heard the way he spoke, it engrained itself into your mind. Affected you.

“You know,” You cleared your throat, thinking of a way to distract both him and yourself, “Besides the... altercation, and the injury,”

“I hope the human experience hasn’t been that bad.”

“I’m-” Castiel words became a grunt before he could finish his sentence. The towel had touched down on the wound, causing the air, that he had once let out, to suck right back.

“I’m adjusting.” he managed out once, slightly, more used to the patting sensation, “... Though I must admit, it is all still very new.” Cas held onto his hand with his other one, letting his fingers squeeze at his palm in hopes to gain concentration.

“The hunger. Cold. Tiredness.” he recounted, and sucked in another breath the moment the words stopped. “This... This feeling.” His head shook. “Being all alone.”

Your fingers stilled.

The gaze that was once fixated on his wound had raised to his face yet again, and you caught that deep look in his eyes that seemed to remain. No matter how hard you tried to shake it. “You feel alone?”

Castiel blinked for a second as though he had been caught in his mind, and turned to meet your concerned expression.

“Oh, not now,” He insisted, looking into your eyes long enough to prove his sincerity. And then he turned away, staring into the distance with a quiet sigh. “Not exactly, but... The past few days, I have truly felt it.”

There it was. That guilt. An emotion so powerful that it would sink right down to the bottom of your stomach within a heartbeat. And as you looked at Cas, it felt faster than ever.

Loneliness is something that can devour a person before they even notice. It’s a thing that follows you regardless of where you go; it digs deep into your skin, into your soul.

And it’s a feeling that no one deserves to feel.

Especially Castiel.

You left your eyes on him for a few more seconds, an exhalation of air leaving through your nose, before you began searching through the first-aid kit.

“You know,” you finally spoke, and picked up a roll of bandages and a dressing pad, before turning back to your previous position while taking them out of their packaging, “Whenever I had a minute to spare... I would spend it looking for clues on your whereabouts. Try to piece them together.”

“It turned out to be a lot more difficult than I thought, to be honest,” you added on, mildly shaking your head at the memory, “I mean, you just... You would just disappear.”

“I searched through the town’s closest to where you made that phone call, you know?” You glanced at him, trying to see if he remembered, before focusing on the bandage, “I kept asking people if they had seen a man in a... Columbo looking trench coat.”

When there was a good amount of the bandage unravelled, you were quick to begin the final stage of cleaning a wound. “Though, I guess that plan kind of fell through when you got those new clothes, huh?”

You placed the pad on the laceration as lightly as you could, and used your other hand to drape the covering over it.

“It wasn’t my intention to worry you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You didn’t do anything, Cas. It’s fine.” you pointed out almost lazily, due to being caught up in moving the bandage. Castiel lifted his elbow so that you could circle the strip around his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

However, that focus seemed to shift pretty quickly.

Your movements slowed within seconds. Finally catching onto the tone of his voice, which meant that now, your gaze landed back on his face.

And he was looking right back at you.

You blinked for a moment, “What... What-- Cas, no.” Your head shook as you leaned back a little, still holding onto the bandage so that it didn’t undo your progress, “Listen to me, all right? I-- I’m that one that should be sorry.”

Castiel sort of copied your movement. His brows were now the ones to furrow as he looked at you in pure confusion, “But you didn’t do anything wrong.” he stated like it was the simplest thing ever.

“Cas, the reason you were out here so long, in the first place, was... It was basically because of me.” you insisted as an audible reminder, but the only thing it did was make Castiel shake his head, especially when you continued.

“I mean, I got so absorbed in the stuff with Sam that I-- Cas, I didn’t even realise that you were in danger until we got back to the bunker.” Your eyes were narrowed as you looked back at him, disbelief pulsing through your body at his continuous dismissals.

“Even after your call.” you added on. Another attempt to make him see what you did... But he didn’t. “Which is understandable.” He shrugged his bare shoulders, the words from his lips flowing with such softness that had you leaning back a little.

“No, man, come on,”

It was almost as if you were irritated at this point. The confusion, doubt, disbelief, seemed to merge together through your blood stream. The answer, as to why it was doing so, however, was a little unclear.

It wasn’t like you wanted him to tell you off, get mad, or shout. He just needed to stop forgiving so easily. So simply.

He had previously talked about trust; how he ends up putting it onto the wrong person. However, when it came to you, he would forget about it. Had this idea in his mind where you could do no wrong.

“I don’t think I need to remind you of what you went through, but-- As a person in my life, as a... friend, there is an obligation, for me, to help when needed.” you started again.

Castiel had shaken his head yet again, “You had more important things--”

“Cas, listen to me.” Your words were sharp. The speed that they cut through their air caused the mans mouth to hang open for a second, his sentence just holding onto his tongue.

You looked back and forth between his eyes, a feeling of guilt pulsing through your chest at the expression on his face.

And then you took in a deep breath, now attempting to avoid his heavy gaze by beginning to weave the other end of the material around the injured limb. “Look,”

“What I’m trying to say is that... I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when this happened-- When this first started.” you confessed through the most sincere voice that you could muster, “I am sorry that I wasn’t there to help you the moment that you needed it, and I am so... so sorry that you had to go through what you did, alone.”

You began at one end of the bandage, pulling at it for further tightness before tucking the material under the previous layers. The same being done on the other side.

Your fingers now pressed against it while you turned to grab the medical tape. You got an end loose and tugged at the strip, beginning to fully secure the dressing.

“Cas, just... You don’t have to apologise for worrying me, all right?” you insisted in an attempt to break the weighted silence, and let out a sigh only moments later, “Especially when it was the thing that made me find you.”

The last bit of tape was stuck to the edge of the dressing. Your fingers lightly pressed along the strips, making sure that it was actually doing its job.

And then your hands pulled away.

“There,” you breathed out, letting your eyes scan across your work for any faults; things you needed to fix. But there was none.

“All done.”

Within the next second, the various items, that had been used throughout the process of cleaning Castiel’s wound, were rounded up into your arms. The single use ones were then thrown into the bin, and next you found yourself in the bathroom.

“You know, the scratches on your cheek seem to be healing just fine on their own,” you began, throwing the damp cloth into the sink before moving to put the towel over the rack on the wall.

“I don’t think I need to put anything on it,” You went back through the door, “But, I’ll make sure to...”

The words you were going to speak had faded the moment you had found Castiel through the dark room. Your body had halted once again; taking time to process what was being seen.

In your position, there was a ray of light that hit his eyes in a certain way. It was completely unintentional, and a thing that you had almost missed, but it allowed you to see the substance that shimmered across his waterline.

Tears.

Your sudden silence caused Cas to realise that you had noticed that particular fact, so he turned his head to the side. Sniffing as he did so.

It was a movement he had always seen other people do since his first time on earth.

When people were sad; upset by something or crying, they would try so hard to hide it. They would call it weak, as if what they were experiencing wasn’t something that humans were supposed to feel.

Though, in this moment, that wasn’t just the reason that he did the same, no. In this instance, it was also because he thought that he didn’t deserve the consolation that would come after. The comfort.

Your feet were moving before your mind, and you found yourself retaking your place, by his side, on the bed. “Cas.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, the concern flooding through everything that it could. And this time, when your hands moved to touch his warm skin, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation.

You reached over to the other side of his face. Castiel had wiped away a loose tear by the time your fingertips had made contact with the lower part of his jaw. An attempt to avoid the scratches carved into the flesh of his cheek.

Finally, once you had pulled his head to turn in your direction, your eyes were met with the oceans that begged to spill. Your eyebrows instantly pinched together.

The utter pain was the most evident it had ever been, despite how hard he tried to resist it. And it was a sight that hit you directly in the heart.

Your other hand raised to his opposite cheek, and you just held him there while you mustered up the most sincere look, that you could, across your features, “You aren’t alone, Castiel.”

“Not anymore.”

The words rung through the silent room. Echoed through Castiel’s ears over and over again.

He tried to stifle his reaction to them, even trying to nod his head, that was in your hands, in an attempt to dismiss the pure feeling that surged through his body. But the longer he looked into your eyes, felt the genuineness, the more his lips wobbled.

And soon, the dam wall had cracked.

A sob had spilled into the quiet air.

Castiel’s body had began to hunch over, leading you to loosen your hands, and his head landed on your shoulder. His arms encasing your waist with a certain quickness; Desperation.

A craving for physical contact.

The movement was so quick that you almost didn’t know what to do at first, but eventually you found your own arms looping over his.

Your hands gently rubbed circles across his bare back, “It’s okay. It’s all right, Cas.” You would repeat after a set amount of seconds had passed, trying to console him in any way that you could.

His body was practically sagging in your hold. He was exhausted, the past few days seeming to weigh on him all at once, and the sobs that wracked through him weren’t exactly helping. He needed to relax.

You sat there for a few minutes. Just clinging onto Cas while you flicked through the countless thoughts in your mind, trying to think of anything that would soothe his burdening mind. Or at least act as a distraction.

What would people do, or use to make themselves feel better, that was right here in this motel room? What was something that would equally use up Castiel’s focus, and bring him enjoyment at the same time?

That was when you remembered a certain electronic packed away in your bag.

“Hey, Cas,” you started quietly, feeling his arms tighten, just slightly, around your waist, “You know, sometimes, when people need to take their mind off of things, they like to watch stuff.”

“How would you feel about doing that, hmm?”

Your hand continued to rub across the skin of his back, that was surprisingly smooth. By now the cries, that previously rocked both his body and your own, had reduced to sharp breaths that would suck through either his nose or his mouth.

For the most part, it seemed like he was beginning to calm down.

“We can sit right here on this bed, eat a bunch of snacks that we’ll probably regret tomorrow, and watch whatever you want-- I mean, there are a lot of cool movies you haven’t seen yet, right?” You lightly shrugged the shoulder that his head lay on to make sure that he was in fact listening.

“I think it would also help with understanding Dean’s references.”

At that, Castiel huffed air through his nose, and slightly ducked down until his forehead was against your collarbone, “That would-- That would be helpful.” he mumbled after a moment.

Your eyebrows raised, “Yeah?” you questioned, wanting to hear that voice of his again. However, this time he only hummed as a response.

“All right then,” Your fingers began to graze up across his bare skin until they landed on the sides of his head. You gently pushed at it, waiting for his face to be seen before your hands took back their place on his jaw.

“Take a deep breath for me.” you insisted when his eyes had focused on your own, and after looking back and forth between them, he did exactly that. Letting his shoulders sink when the air exhaled out of his lips.

The tips of your fingers wiped at the water trails that clung to the rough surface, and you smiled lightly before taking your hands away.

In utter reluctance, you untangled yourself from the man’s body so that you could move to stand up instead. And once on your feet, your journey to the table had begun, a sniffing Castiel watching your every move while he wiped at the stuff under his nose.

“What are you doing?” he asked when the rustling of plastic bags suddenly echoed through the room, but instead of responding, a disgruntled sigh passed through your lips.

Prompting yet another question from the man. “What’s wrong?”

Your head shook lightly as you took a step back from the various items, raising your hands to rest on your hips, “We don’t have the snacks.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. “But... Didn’t we get some earlier?” You waved your hand in his direction. “Yeah, but those are generic, everyday snacks,” you explained, and moved to the chair your jacket was on before grabbing it. “When you are watching a movie, Cas,”

“You need the best kind.”

The sleeves slid across your arms, one after the other, until they had fully fitted to your shoulders. Castiel’s eyes widened, only a little, as he watched.

“What are you doing?” he questioned again, this time with a little more urgency that you were too caught up, with digging through your pockets, to notice, “There’s a shop downstairs,” you responded almost nonchalantly while continuing your search for loose coins.

And by the time about half a handful of change was located, you had made your way to the door, your fingers meeting with the cool metal of the handle, “Okay, I’ll be like ten minutes--”

“Wait.”

Your body had twisted back round almost immediately, looking back where the man previously sat. Though, when your eyes arrived, you found that he was now stood up.

You sort of stared at him for a moment, your hand still on the handle, as you tried to understand the problem; what you had done wrong.

There was this sort of desperation that displayed itself across any feature Castiel had. Something that was only amplified by his hand that looked as if it was attempting to reach out, but he moved it back towards him by the time your eyes found it.

It hit you in an instant.

Castiel, a person that had been cast out by his own brothers and sisters, had been deprived of any comfort for days on end. He had gone through absolute shit, time after time.

Then you suddenly appeared.

You took him in, took care of him, bought stuff for his benefit, consoled him more than anyone has in his entire life...

And here you were, trying to leave.

The man in front of you looked ashamed the longer your eyes analysed him. So, instead of reacting to the accidental outburst, you simply took in a deep breath, letting go of the handle.

“Do you know how to use a shower?”

The random question was so out of place that Castiel, at least for the time being, had forgotten about his heart that beat rapidly in his chest. He tilted his head a smidge, like he usually did, his eyebrows furrowing once again.

“No,” he sniffled, “No, I... never had the chance.” His eyes then narrowed as you moved further away from the door. “Why?”

“Tell you what,” you began instead, “I’ll teach you how to do it.” Your hands raised back to your hips. Castiel’s confusion remained across his face.

“You can go in, do your thing, change into... at least something-- And by the time you’re done. I’ll be right back here.”

His gaze slightly lowered as he contemplated your suggestion. It wasn’t something he had to do much thinking about, due to the fact that he knew you very well and what it meant when you said such a thing.

So, by the time you had parted your lips, saying yet another thing to persuade him in the most unmalicious way. “Like I said, it will take ten minutes-- Fifteen at most.”

He had made up his mind.

His chin slightly lifted as he looked at you, a breath of air filtering through his nostrils while you watched with raised eyebrows; intrigued. And then finally. Castiel nodded his head, almost timidly. “Okay.”

A smile tugged at your lips, but you didn’t want to make him embarrassed. So within the next second, you tilted your head in the direction of the bathroom and began to walk towards it, gesturing the man to follow.

“Come on, then.”

Finally, the shop, and hopefully the last, had been complete. This time, only one bag left the store with you as you walked back through the entrance.

The fresh, night air engulfed your body in an instant once outside, urging you to take a chance to properly breathe it into your lungs.

By now, the last remnants of the sun had officially disappeared from the sky. Which meant that a fully rich, dark blue blanket took its place, consuming almost everything that lay beneath it.

You walked round the corner of the building, a bundle of emotions rolling within your stomach, that only got more intense, as the door to your motel room came into view.

At this point, you were stood at the bottom of the staircase. Your feet stilled, your shoulders raising and lowering as you attempted to compose yourself. The hand that held the bag sort of flexed, balling into a fist, which lead the handle to dig into the creases of your fingers.

And then you raised your leg, the grip of your shoe so close to landing on the metal step--

Something in your pocket vibrated. And then again... and again.

With a sigh, you planted the lifted foot back onto level ground, stepping back from the staircase to let someone else go up instead.

Your free hand dug into the pocket of your trousers, and only pulled back out once the device had been located. And when the phone was properly held, one of your fingers pressed the button on the side of it.

The screen lit up, your eyes finding the plethora of messages that littered across your home screen; stuff from both Sam and Dean.

“Uh oh.”

They weren’t exactly frantic, but as you scrolled, it had gone from check up texts to about 3-4 missed calls each. It had been so long since you were last in the bunker.

Before you could continue that train of thought, the phone that had almost faded from your attention abruptly rang through the silence and echoed throughout the complex. “Jesus Christ!”

Dean’s name and the response options pulsated across the screen while you recovered from a near heart attack.

You tapped the green button, lifting the phone to your ear while you moved against the wall beside the stairs. You cleared your throat, “Dean?”

“Y/n, hey! Why the hell haven’t you been answering me?” His voice sounded exactly as you had expected: urgent and full of worry. “I’ve been messaging you for hours, and so has Sam-- You just went ghost mode.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you began in acknowledgement, rubbing at your forehead in embarrassment with the hand that held the bag, “Look, sorry man, I’ve, uh... been a little occupied... Okay-- I genuinely did forget.”

Dean sighed. And although you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he was shaking his head, “Did you find Cas at least?”

“I did... I did, yeah. He’s up in our motel room, but I’m, uh, I’m outside right now,” You looked at the bag, rustling it slightly, “Just picked up some extra stuff.”

“So... you’re staying the night then?”

The reminder of the conversation in the kitchen had you mentally cursing yourself. You leaned further into the wall, “Yes... Yes, I am.”

The line went silent for a hot minute, and you squeezed your eyes shut, now annoyed at yourself for not only losing track of time, but also for not texting the boys, that get very antsy when you don’t.

Surely, you knew this by now.

“How’s uh... How are things with Sam?” you questioned in an attempt to change the subject. And it seemed to work as a clear of a throat pierced through the speakers of your phone, “Uh, it’s working... ish.”

“Definitely, gonna give me whiplash soon, but, uh...” Dean huffed out air in a way that had your eyebrows furrowing, “Look, Y/n, I... Ezekiel confirmed that there are angels trying to find Cas.”

“You’re kidding.” Your hand, with the phone in it, raised so that the back of it could rest against your forehead, that was getting warm to the touch despite the cold air.

“Man, I wish I was, I really do. But there is this group-- This faction, in his words, and... Y/n, it’s growing.” Dean explained slowly, hesitance evident in his voice. Your head sunk backwards until it hit the wall.

“They want Cas found.”

The phone was brought back to your ear, yet another sigh passing through the quiet air, “Do we know who they are? Is it Naomi?”

“No, I asked... Ezekiel said that he has never heard her name.”

“Oh, come on, man.”

Of course, you already knew that this was going to happen; throwing everyone out of heaven wasn’t exactly something that could be moved on from quite easily. I mean, it was Metatron’s doing, as Castiel had merely been tricked.

But they didn’t seem to see it that way.

“How’s he doing.” Dean’s voice rang back through your ears, more lightly; thoughtful.

“Uh... I mean, he’s-- he’s human, that’s for sure.” you confirmed, a breathy laugh following after as your body sunk back further, “I watched him practically stuff an entire sandwich in his mouth today, it was...” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Honestly, it was impressive.”

“Seriously,” Dean snorted, “Man, I wish I got to see that.” he added on, though it had your head shaking within seconds. “No, I promise-- You do not.” And now the two of you had broken into laughs.

There was an image so clear in your mind; Castiel sat in his chair, stuffing that sandwich into his mouth. He had just pulled it away, taking a moment to actually chew, but it revealed this line of peanut butter and jelly that surrounded his mouth. Almost as if it was purposeful.

Despite everything that had happened to him, in that moment, there was contentment. Happiness. And after thinking about how close that feeling was to being taken away, the amusement had died.

“Dean,” you called through the phone, though by the time he answered, you hadn’t a clue as to what you were going to say. “I...”

Your eyes stared straight ahead, zoning into the treeline that was pure darkness, “I’m scared.”

“Y/n.”

“I mean, he’s- Dean, he’s not an angel anymore, you know? He’s still adjusting, and... if we run into them-- If he gets hurt by one of those blades--”

“Y/n, stop it-- Just stop, okay? We are doing the best that we can in our positions, so just...” Dean let out another sigh, his sudden outburst clearing your thoughts for at least a second. “Listen. Ezekiel tuned into angel radio today.”

“That means that they are still looking-- But more importantly, it means that you still have time... Okay?”

All of this felt so stupid.

This entire idea was yours, and truthfully, you didn’t regret it. But the way that you planned it, the way that things played out, meant that you would be doing it all alone; having to protect an angel from his own kind.

You had no clue where to start.

“... Okay.” You had finally responded, though the acceptance wasn’t truly there. Dean’s voice softened the next time he spoke, “Y/n, I assure you that being there tonight, with Cas, is enough for now.”

“We can meet up at some point, but Ezekiel... He says that he’s in danger around Cas, you know, In case the angels find him too-- I’m not really sure what that means, but...” He took in a breath, inhaling back all the air he had lost while speaking. “Either way, you just... We’re gonna to have to wait a bit before--”

“Dean?”

You could recognise that voice anywhere.

“Is that Y/n?”

“Oh, no... No,” Dean spoke slowly, and pulled the device away from his ear. A sort of rustling then crackled through your speakers, which you could only assume was from him covering his own. “It’s uh...” he continued, dragging out the sound while he tried to think of something.

“It’s one of the guys checking in from the-- the case, yeah, uh... Apparently forgot to do it earlier.”

There were shuffling sounds; materials grinding under shoes. And then Sam cleared his throat. “Oh... okay.”

Dean moved the phone back to its original place, his body, probably, turned away from his brother at his point, “Hey, yes, sorry about that-- I’m glad we could help.” he insisted, and you huffed a laugh, though you still felt bad about Sam.

“Well, good night, Dean... I’ll text Sam tomorrow, so don’t worry about lying after this.” Dean simply sniffed, “All right, thank you.” still playing into his lie.

“Talk to you later then,” You readjusted the bag in your grasp, readying yourself as your gaze landed back on the door to your room, “And take care of yourself, please.”

“Yeah... Yeah, you too. Have a-- Have a good night.”

And with that.

You hung up.

Somehow, the door closing behind you was one of the most comforting sounds you had heard all week, “Hey,”

“I’m back,” you called, turning on your feet and peering into the bag of goodies as you listed them off, “Got the snacks, some drinks, and some painkillers... Might need them later.”

You looked up as you moved to the table, planning to put the bag amongst all the others, “I hope I didn’t take too...” Though, your movements never panned out.

There, stood on the other side of the bed, was Castiel.

“Long.”

His hands were held behind his back. The expression on his face almost frozen despite the way he seemed to look back and forth between you and the bed. And that’s when you followed his eyeline.

It was your duffle bag. Opened.

Your chin raised slightly, “Were you... What were you doing?” you questioned. Castiel clears his throat, his gaze flickering more intensely. “Nothing.”

“Cas.”

“... Okay, fine.” he huffed out, bringing his arms round his front so that he could hold his hands together, “I was, uh, I was hungry.”

Your eyebrows furrowed almost instantly, just staring at him for about one more second before you slowly pointed to the left with your free hand. At the table covered in various food items.

Castiel lowered his head a little, “I, uh... I wanted another sandwich.”

You were still beyond confused, but the last thing Cas probably needed was to feel like he was being interrogated. So, you dropped it, shaking your head as you placed the new bag with the others.

Your hands grabbed at the front of your jacket, and you lifted it up, unhooking it from around your shoulder. Your movements seemed to slow when your eyes flickered back to Cas.

By the time, the sleeves had been pulled off of your arms, you found yourself almost frozen in place, realising that he in fact took a shower. Which was evident by the damp hair that clung to certain parts of his forehead.

He looked so different.

The stubble that you, almost, could’ve consider as a beard had been shaved away, and it brought back the Cas you had seen from day one. More importantly, though, the man was now in fact wearing a shirt... and new trousers.

He had changed in more ways than one.

“Are you staying in that?” you questioned, hanging your jacket back on the chair it was previously on. Castiel let out a sigh as you looked back at him.

His arms went limp by his sides, his eyes now downcast in what appeared to be shame. “It looks bad, doesn’t it.” he found himself saying through a breath, even though he had never been concerned about his looks before.

“Oh... no.” you mumbled out as your brain processed his movements a little too slowly. Your eyes widened within the next second, “No! No, no, no, Cas, you look.” you paused, a smile even curling at your lips as you scanned over the attire, “You... look great, actually.”

You cleared your throat, “But, uh... Sorry-- What I meant was that, you know... You’re dressed rather formal.” Your fingers scratched at the back of your neck, “We’re only going to be watching a movie.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed, giving his outfit a once over before he met with your eyes again, “I thought this was what people wore for activities like this?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess they do, but that’s usually when people are going on a...” You let your words fade away the moment you realised the end of the sentence, and the confusion deepened on Castiel’s face. “On a what--”

“Listen,” you started up, clearing your throat once again, “I was only asking because I was going to change into my pyjamas.” You shrugged, “I just thought you were gonna do the same.”

“I... I don’t think I have pyjamas.”

Your lips formed into a line, a moment of stupidity about to hit you in the face...

However, your eyebrows suddenly raised. One of your fingers pointed, indicating that you had just thought about something.

Though, instead of giving any sort of ease to Castiel’s ever-growing confusion, you simply made your way towards the bed, and tugged the duffle bag to your side once there.

You had rummaged through the bag for about fifteen seconds before your hands returned, an item held in either one: a shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms. “This is my old set.”

“I bought a new one today, so you can use these... Unless you want that one?” you inquired, and Castiel sort of looked at you for a moment before he focused on the clothes, taking them into his hands.

“No, that’s...” he began almost absently, and then his eyes met yours once again, a new expression displayed across his features. You could only stare at his as he spoke, “I don’t... I don’t know how to thank you properly, Y/n-- I-- I don’t... I don’t think the words itself would do it justice.”

“This day. Your company, your... kindness is more than I’ve had in a while.” Castiel shook his head lightly, and his brows knitted together as he recalled the past few hours, “I enjoy it very much.”

You blinked for a good few seconds, taking in the genuineness that beamed from the person in front of you... And then you avoided his gaze, a sort of timidness washing through your body.

“It’s just pyjamas,” you practically mumbled, feeling the heat rise across your skin, which lead your nails to scratch at your neck again. Castiel smiled.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable,” he insisted through a voice that failed to hide its amusement, and your eyes shot back to his instantly, finding the way his lips had quirked up along his word.

Your head shook for a moment, “Yeah, whatever, just-- Okay, you can take the bathroom to get changed, I’ll just...” You let out a sigh, “I will change out here.”

Castiel tilted his head at a thought the passed through his mind, and though his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, his smile had only widened. “I hadn’t realise just how much you and Dean couldn’t take a compliment--”

“Okay, you can go now-- Just go, get changed!”

You were sat on the bed. The only light source in the room was the lamp on the table to your left, and the bright screen of the laptop that shone into your face.

In the minutes that had passed, you had not only changed into your new set of, very comfy, clothes, but also managed to fill multiple decent sized bowls with various different snacks.

Meanwhile, a certain person was still in the bathroom.

“Cas?” you called out, your fingers continuing to type away at the keyboard to locate a decided streaming service. There was a muffled grunt in response.

“You all right in there?”

There was a pause, some slight shuffling, before a sigh murmured through the cracks of the door. “Yes... Yes, I am, just...”

When he couldn’t find the words, the lock under the handle had clicked. And soon, the wood that blocked your view of the man had slowly began to open.

Castiel took a step forward the moment the door had swung as far is it could. His body looked rigid, almost like the way that a plastic doll was, as his arms were practically frozen by his sides.

Your eyes scanned over the new appearance, your attention completely abandoning the laptop in front of you within seconds. You had seen him in different clothes, than the usual trench coat, earlier today, so it shouldn’t have been that strange.

But apparently you still weren’t used to it.

“Well... There you go, man,” you managed out after blinking for a second, and then met his tense gaze, patting the space on the bed beside you to get him to come closer.

Your eyes never left him, even when he complied to your request. “Is it... Is it okay? I mean, it’s probably a strange feeling, right?” you questioned almost nonchalantly as Castiel had got to his side of the bed.

He lowly hummed in response, and finally took a seat on the bed, though it was practically on the edge as his legs hung over the side, “It is... But I must say, it does feel very comfortable.”

“Good,” you insisted with a light smile, moving to the side just a tad when you noticed his current position. “That’s one of the main reasons that people sleep in it.”

Castiel nodded his head slowly. “Well,”

“I understand now.”

The browser on your laptop had now loaded, and the music that droned along the title screen took away your chance at making a comment. As the movie was about to begin.

Within seconds, you shuffled over even more, and placed the laptop between the two of you before angling it down while the various names faded in and out of view across the screen.

By now, Castiel had officially lifted his legs onto the mattress. He was slightly leaned over, his eyes scanning back and forth over the unfamiliar images with the usual gaze he had when watching stuff. Even if it was just showing the people that were featured.

“You know, the boys really like these movies,” you started up, causing his eyes to snap towards yours, as if he had forgotten you were even there. “I think if you made references from this, they would be pretty surprised.”

“We’ll at least have a great conversation starter when we can meet up.”

Castiel’s brows rose, his head nodded once, and then again, while he eyed the screen, making sure that the movie hadn’t actually started yet. “Noted.”

And then he leaned back, settling into the headboard, like you had, as he held his hands together.

“Do you know when we will be seeing them?”

You turned to him slowly while the intro music began to play. The first scene.

There was this hopeful look on his face. One that purely showed how desperate he was to see his friends. You wanted to give him good news, or even just lie, so badly because he deserved good news more than anything.

But there was no way you could lie to a face like that. You shook your head, no matter how bad it was going to make you feel, “No.”

“No, I don’t.”

And there it was. That disappointment.

Castiel had tried to play it off as he looked back to the screen with a nod of his head, even squinting his eyes to give off the look that he was paying attention to whatever was happening on it.

But it could still be seen.

You internally sighed. The commotion from the movie blared through the speakers of the laptop as you turned, grabbing the first bowl of food from the bedside table to your left.

“Here.” you spoke after clearing your throat, and brought the bowl between the two of you, while making sure that none of the popcorn would fall over the edges.

Castiel, who was actually paying attention to the movie by now, turned to the strange looking stuff with the same squinted eyes. Though, when he focused on it longer, they seemed to widen.

“This is one of the things we eat when watching a movie.”

The first two of the trilogy had been finished. You had answered any questions, explained difficult plot points, and even pointed out little Easter eggs along the way, while the amount of snacks began to diminish.

Castiel had propped up the pillow to sit behind both of your backs for better support, and now he sat, truly comfortably, as he zoned into the scenes that played throughout the screen.

It was an incredible thing to witness.

Castiel just looked at things so intently if he didn’t quite understand. He would try to figure out anything and everything that happened, regardless of how minor of an effect it had on the storyline. Which was the same even with the background characters.

He would ask, or just say, the first things that came to his mind while maintaining his focus on the screen, and you always had to stifle a laugh before responding, due to the abruptness.

In truth, you had probably watched him more than you did the movie.

Though, when it had gotten to the third part of the film series. That is when the atmosphere had really changed.

This time, whenever Castiel said anything. Instead of the genuine moments of wonder, his words were slower. He would pause at the start of a sentence, as if he had to find it somewhere in his head before he could actually say it.

“Did you see that? In the background?” you questioned, enthusiastically pointing at a particular thing part of the screen, “That guy was drinking out of a plastic bottle, I mean--- How did the editors not...”

Your head had turned towards Cas, wanting to see if he shared the same amusement or had even seen what you were talking about.

But instead, what you saw in front of you seemed to shift your interest.

Castiel’s body was sort of slumped over, his head slightly bobbing every few seconds, as his brain hadn’t fully decided whether it was going to shut off or not.

“Cas?”

As to not scare the shit out of him, your voice was quieter this time, a mix of amusement, and concern, flurrying through your body in response to the way he sat.

“Hmm?” His eyes snapped open, “Oh, I, uh... It went by too fast.” Castiel murmured, his words coming out in more of a mumble than anything else, as he blinked rapidly, trying to push himself into a sitting position. “I missed it.”

“You know we can stop if you’re tired, right?” you pointed out, and Castiel shook his head within seconds, lazily, waving his hand. “No... No, I-- I want to watch this-- I am watching this.”

Despite his previous attempts at moving his body, Castiel had sunk right back to where he was before, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the screen again. Though, he might have been adjusting to the light.

Your head nodded slowly, even with the amusement that grew on your face. “If you say so.”

And then you copied his movements, your attention going back to the movie, so you could try and figure out what part you had missed due to the interaction.

After a while, on screen, it was showing one of those long shots of landscape. Usually used to introduce a new area, or show the viewer the surroundings; where the character was in their world, while dramatic music hummed through the speakers.

Your lips had parted, a string of words about to bounce off your tongue in awe of the incredible looking scenery... But here was a sudden weight that pressed into your upper arm.

Your head turned instantly, the sentence you were going to say fading into nothing when your eyes laid upon the culprit.

This time, Castiel had slumped to the side. Which, in this case, was yours.

His body was angled sort of awkwardly due to the distance. So, in the next second, you picked up your laptop, shimmied yourself over and then placed it back on your lap before slightly lowering yourself down so that he would be more comfortable.

His cheek was smooshed into your shoulder, which caused his lips to part in an odd looking way, that meant that any time he breathed, the air would huff into the sleeve of your t-shirt with such force that the warmth of it would seep through and against your skin.

But it was also a pretty good indication of the decision his brain had finally made. Because he was out.

To keep it that way, you were trying as hard as you could to be silent. You had paused the movie, which bathed the room in utter silence, and rewound it to the part where he first got tired, before closing the laptop over.

You then leaned over the edge of your side of the bed and placed the device on the floor beneath it as quietly as you could.

However, upon pulling yourself back up, you realised that your movement had caused Castiel’s head to slip off of your shoulder, and his upper body was now hunching over into your lap.

“Shit.” you huffed under your breath, quickly supporting his weight as much as you could while also moving the pillow so that the two of you could actually sleep on it.

And once it was in position, you, gently, tugged his body forward so that he would line up with the cushion, and slowly lowered him back down as he grumbled.

Your head hit the pillow next, which honestly felt like a cloud at this point, with a sigh that blew through your lips. The tiredness from the past day finally caught up to you.

A sudden hum drew you away from closing your eyes, and your head turned, yet again, to find the reason, even though you already knew that it was just Castiel.

And for the first time since you found him, you properly had the chance to look at him, up close, without him just staring right back.

During the day, Castiel’s features were always sort of stuck; formed by tension that resided in the muscles. However, when he slept, they would be released. All of the guilt, shame, and betrayal that sunk deep into his skin would finally dissolve, even if it was just for a few hours.

The tiredness was swarming you by now, meaning that even though you wanted to smile, your face wouldn’t move. And so, using up the last of your energy, you sluggishly lifted your arm from underneath the duvet and reached for the light switch.

It echoed through the room. Your surroundings now encompassed in utter darkness, that was the same whenever your eyes closed.

Even then, there was something in you that wanted to fight the sleep that begged to take over your body. Your mind anxious over the fact that you wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Castiel during the night.

But step by step, you began to allow yourself.

Because you know what? You found him.

Castiel had been located, and at least for the time being, he was safe. He was alive, and that meant that your mission had been completed. “Goodnight, Cas.”

And thus, your mind had stopped talking. You floated into the deepest, and what would be the longest, sleep you had had in weeks.

All because Castiel was right there, by your side, doing it with you.

Your human.

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