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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

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For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

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mystic-kitten-writer · 3 years

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Ok this kinda embarrassing and the first time I’ve requested anything but, yk how you mentioned public bedding in ur zuko x of pinned post. Do you think u could write something abt that? Obviously no pressure and if ur uncomfy just ignore me.

Oh, love, don't be shy! I promise, you're welcomed here and free to drop an ask or request anytime~

And, it's your lucky day, because the public bedding may or may not be canon in Limerence 👀 Hence, here are tiny snippets of my rough drafts if I were to write this. Because it's totally not canon Zuko and Yue get married or something and this happens- totally doesn't happen 🍵

AU: Limerence, Bedding Teasers

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

Masterlist

Shy, straddling Zuko’s lap with an intense blush.

His fingers were gliding over my arms, feeling the fabric that decorated my skin. I was so nervous, trembling, unable to stop fiddling with the band of his pants as my hands rested over the space between us. Our noses were just touching as his warm breath fanned over my skin.

“Love, we don’t have to do this.” Zuko hummed, a charming smile of comfort.

I could feel his warmth through the sheer fabric, my head tilted upwards as I stared at Zuko’s lips.

Today was the most magical day in my life.

The vows, the dancing, dressing up as a princess of my dreams while my dads and everyone else cheered and celebrated. Everyone I cherished, I loved, family and friends were all there for me.

But most importantly, I can finally call Zuko, my husband.

Dreaming of this moment since the day I laid eyes on him, an instant connection I never thought one could experience. I bit my lip, a silence filling the room that for a moment, the fact that there was a crowd behind us was forgotten.

Purposely making my back face them, as I sat over Zuko’s legs, hugging his thighs. My touch was easing its way up to his chest, enjoying the feeling over his skin under me as I caressed the faint scars that littered.

I was tired, exhausted from all the emotions, but seeing Zuko like this. Shirtless, hair loose, my blush deepened.

There wasn’t a doubt in me that I was nervous, but another part was so curious. Memories of every time we had almost been caught while we were having fun; from the quickies in the study, the garden. The thrill, idea, of someone watching us.

“Just what are you thinking about,” Zuko purred, his finger tapping my lips, and I realized how heavy my breathing had begun.

Wetness beginning to grow and stain the front of my panties, embarrassed at how I had just been caught fantasizing. But the smirk on Zuko’s face grew before rolling his hips against mine.

My eyes widened, hitching a breath because he was hard.

The head of cock, rubbing against my core, causing the fabric of my panties to rub against me. I bit down a moan, my head tilting downwards as my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden bolt of pleasure.

“A-ah, Zuko-” I shyly stumbled and Zuko groaned, bucking his hips against me, causing me to tense as my mouth to part.

“I haven't even fucked you yet, and look at them.” Zuko chuckled into my ear as I arched my back against his chest. The arm that looped over my knee stopped me from pressing my legs together, twitching as his finger continued to tease.

I struggled to breathe, head tossed as my hips jerked, seeking his touch as he flirts with my cunt.

His cocky smirk pressed against my neck, loving how my eyes fluttered shut when he rolled my clit. It was a touch that left one to desire, his fingers on either side, sliding back and forth. The slickness that drips between my legs, a puddle of my cum pooling underneath.

"It's so sensitive-" I gasped.

But my movements, the whine that left my lips, it was such a contradiction. My hips are rolling, despite pleading, another knot building.

"Mmm, but look love. They want to see, see how you gush for me."

His words were a demand, and my body obeyed. Forcing my gaze to lift, meeting the eyes in front of us. It was too much, body flushing red, breathing hitched, "They're all staring at you, love."

Zuko's right. Shifting in their spots, faces twisted in a mixture of arousal and shame. Unable to look away, but they continued to stare, to gawk. Hypnotized by how I twitch and arch, humping Zuko’s hand out of desperation to feel more.

A few of them letting their palms rest in front of them with flushed cheeks, their knees buckling. They were- I gasped as Zuko let his fingers spread my folds, his middle finger happily rubbing that pleasurable button.

The robe that barely stayed on my shoulders finally began to tumble, bunching at my elbows as I tried to muffle my cries. It felt good, so overwhelming and Zuko groaned into my ear.

I was unintentionally rubbing against his bulge nestled perfectly behind my ass.

"Fuck, at this rate, they're not gonna make it for the best part," Zuko snickered as he stared at the audience that daringly got closer. Bucking into the fabric of their clothes, just how Zuko rutted me from behind. Groaning as I pushed myself further into his embrace, wanting to feel the heat from his body, how his cock twitched.

No longer bothering to hide their stares, they saw my toes curl, my hands falling over Zuko's thighs as my pitch grew. My nails dug into the fabric of his silk robes as I struggled to contain my moans. A wave of embarrassment at the eyes that watched, but it was intoxicating.

So dirty, yet I couldn’t stop making a mess-

"They're so fucking thirsty, love. They look like you, drooling. Wishing to know how you taste. Should I let them?"

I shook my head, gasping as his rubbing never stopped but rather got more intense. My hips were jerking into his hand, "N-no."

"Mmm, and why not, love?"

"Cause I only want you," I whined, and Zuko chuckled into my ear, placing possessive kisses over my neck. Humming in utter bliss, his kisses turning into bites. The sting after his teeth left marks over my skin, arching further as his touch began to speed up.

My arms reached before me, hands gripping whatever I could.

Skin dewy, sweat beading down my forehead as another moan left my lips. Zuko's hands along my hips were deathly tight, forcing my hips upwards while he grunted.

One sharp thrust, his balls slapping against my cunt, that sent a wave of pleasure up my spine. All I could do was gasp his name out because it felt so damn good.

With every roll, it felt like Zuko went deeper, my walls squeezing him painfully because every drag of his cock was causing me to shudder. A new orgasm was building before I could even process the last.

The sounds of our breathing grew, and the intensity only increased as my eyes darted upwards, another wave of guilty pleasure washing over me because everyone was watching so intensely.

The looks of pained struggle on the guards’ faces, giving up entirely of not trying to watch. Their mouths hanging, eyes glued at how I gasped and cried out. My hair was a chaotic mess as Zuko tugged, beckoning me closer, loving how my back arched into him.

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you, love?” Zuko hissed as he felt me clench around him.

I whined, wanting to hide my face in shame because it was so painfully true. Everyone heard my times with Zuko, my screams, my begs. But for them to see, witness first-hand what they were always curious about.

Tears bubbled because I could feel myself tensing around Zuko’s cock, my breath caught in my throat.

“Again?” Zuko teased before his hand began to snake down my hips over my stomach. My eyes widened, already knowing what his plan was, and I shook my head desperately.

“D-don’t, Zuko. I-I’ll-”

Skimming down my stomach, already finding what he was seeking. The pads of his fingers happily parting my folds to let his fingers rest on my clit. His thrusts were growing, using my body to pump himself, hitting that spongey part inside of me that had me seeing stars.

My vision was getting spotty, trying to speak words, but I was merely blubbering nonsense. Zuko was cooing into my ear, encouraging, excited to see me break- “Cum for me.”

I could feel myself gush around him like a dam breaking, his thrusts never stopping, his fingers continued to rub furiously. It was a loud scream as I could feel my juices drip down my legs, painting his with my cum, and Zuko could only groan from behind as I squeezed him.

“Fuck, baby-”

“I-I can’t stop.” I cried, my body convulsing, another wave hitting me, “Maybe this will be a nighty thing, fucking you in front of a crowd. Having you cockwarm while we’re in meetings.”

And my cheeks continued to burn because the thought didn’t seem frightening but a blessing at this point.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters besides any original characters I have created.

Cross-posted on Ao3/Tumblr/Quotev/Wattpad to discourage plagiarism.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

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datawyrms · 3 years

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snap

It is The Day I post my Invisobang fic! it was a wild ride to write everything and not post. This is actually the second fic I did, as the first fell into my pit of ‘i hate it now’ and will sit in limbo for the rest of eternity. I teamed up with Spirit ( @ghostportals ), who has done some accompanying art! That, and Red @redead-red saved my bacon by doing some betaing last moment, so tell em they’re great too. Hope you’re all enjoying the flood of finished fics and art this week! Only the first chapter is here, the rest is posted on my Ao3 and complete. hope you enjoy!

One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed.

It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad.

The stairs had always been a little too steep, a titch too narrow, but he was used to them. Jazz worried too much- the whole Fenton family knew how to take them two steps at a time. He wasn’t going to admit she might have a point just because he’d slipped one time. He wished there was a railing to catch himself with- it would have spared him some of the pain of his head knocking on the stair.

It didn’t hurt that much. Plenty of ghosts hit harder, and far more frequently.

“Took a bit of a spill eh, Danno?”

Great, dad saw him slip like he was three again. He wanted to speak, wave his behemoth of a father off before he got tangled up in some long lecture about whatever they were working on down here. Just had to sit up.

He was a little stunned or something. All those late nights made his limbs rebel when he wanted them to hurry up. Come on, before he tries to help and accidentally shaves his hair off with some anti-ghost stepladder or something.

His arms stubbornly rejected his internal horror story. His attempt to say ‘I’m fine’ was more a gurgle than anything. Way to go, Fenton. Do everything to get dad to worry! Really using those genius genes. Jazz probably stole his anyway, or they got fried in the accident. Come on! A bit of self berating should have him sitting bolt upright by now. Maybe his arm twitched. He felt something move, anyway. More like a muscle spasm.

“Danny? You okay?” The large man came closer, his usual jog slowed.

Of course he’s fine. He could see dad, sort of. He totally moved his eyes to see him better, even. Stupid ghost powers were just acting up. It’s okay, just give me a second to stand up. You’re worrying over nothing.

Jack had already made it over, crouching to get a better look at his fallen son. Like he was trying to look smaller or something with how carefully he was moving. Where was all that slow, ginger movement when he was driving? Or trying to tell them about some new invention that might burn off your eyebrows?

I’m fine, dad. He couldn’t get the words to come out, but he was just fine. He really didn’t like the strange look on his father’s face. After all, ‘Jack Fenton doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear’ or whatever random thing he felt like shouting when chasing after entities from another dimension. Come on dad, stop looking like that. It was creeping him out. Moving should be easy, a snap, but part of him didn’t feel like doing it. Apparently an important part? He could visualize exactly what to do, but he wasn’t sitting up. He swore he could feel his muscles clenching but not finishing the movement. Maybe they were testing something down here that just made all the ectoplasm hiding inside him take a nap. His ectoplasm was so fired after this.

“Can you look at me kiddo?”

Coaxing him. This was weird. Why wasn’t he just hauling him off the floor and laughing about how clumsy he was at his age too? Looking at him was easy. Pretty hard to miss him, with all the bright orange.

“Maddie? Can you come over here?” His question was strangely stilted, not much of a bellow.

Dad was going to get the wrong idea because his body didn’t want to cooperate. Great. Fantastic. He could feel the warmth in his chest, the sign his heart was still going. He was just fine, just a bit inconvenienced at the moment. Why couldn’t dad just be dad and do something dumb like pick him up with one hand while sounding way too excited about some new tool that he built?

“What’s wrong?” His mom said, her footsteps doing the same thing dad’s had. Speed that suddenly cut down to almost nothing. “Danny, did you hit your head?”

“I think he might have, he’s not responding. I didn’t want to try to move him-“

“You did great Jack, it’s okay.”

Gross. He hoped they didn’t get caught up in one of their lovey dovey circles while he was stuck trying to get his stupid legs to remember how to do things. He was responding! He groaned, and he definitely twitched a bit. Weren’t they paying attention? He tried again, a bit more forcefully and ignoring the pang in his neck. More of a jolt from someone with too much static cling than actual pain, really.

“Should I call 911? He isn’t moving! He just stayed there- didn’t even act all tough for his old man!”

Jack was panicking. Dad was panicking. Over nothing! Why wasn’t mom distracting him with fudge or some random study? No one was being normal today. Danny shuddered, he knew he did, it went with the pulse under his skin.

“That’d be great sweetie, just stay close.”

“In case you need my big strong arms to help carry him, right?”

“Just in case.” She wasn’t wearing the hood of her jumpsuit, at least.

It didn’t make it more comfortable when she crouched down, biting her lip and staring at him. Like this was concerning. It was the opposite of that, he was a klutz, a gangly teenager, it was normal for him to be a bit banged up. This shouldn’t concern her, or anyone. The only reason it bugged him was the not being able to move right now nonsense.

“You aware in there sweetie?” she said, rather loudly and clapping near his ear.

Yes I am, but I can’t tell you. Maybe he could focus on taking a breath and it would kick off whatever turned off his mind to body connection. Had he done anything strange before coming down here? Not really. He could absolutely feel her digging her nails into his earlobe though, ow! More motivation to move, but something wasn’t getting across. Maybe he was getting a bit freaked out about it too. Only because of his parents being weird. He was fine, he had to be fine. It was nothing, less than nothing.

“I’m just going to make sure he’s still breathing Jack, do you have anyone on the line yet?”

A loud response, but not to her question. “No it’s not a ghost emergency! It’s a human emergency!”

Of course he was breathing. He couldn’t look that bad from such a small fall. Just breathe out the words ‘Hey mom, personal space’ and they’d laugh and it’d be nothing. All this fussing was making his skin crawl but of course he had to have ‘special ghost freezing up’. Was it his ice powers? Like he could get his powers being snarky like that, appreciated it in a twisted sort of way- but it would be better around people who wouldn’t assume the worst? Like anyone else. Even Dash.

“Tell the operator he isn’t breathing.” Maddie’s voice was cold and controlled, even as she went back to biting her lip right after.

He was totally breathing. He could feel the air that ran in and out of his lungs, the swell and fall that other ghosts knew as a weak point, a way to slow him down. He knew what being doubled over, air shoved right out of him from a harsh blow felt like, how it felt like the portal again. Throat twitching, body heaving and trying to regain what it lost. The darkness that bit at the edges of his vision as every nerve went screaming You’re Dying . Hated that feeling, shook the ghosts who did that hard once they were in a thermos. This was nothing like that.

“He isn’t breathing, you need to hurry! My wife knows CPR- just tell them to hurry this is my son , please”

Yelling to hide the quaver in his voice. Like a kicked puppy yelping. It sounded so wrong. This was going to be so awkward after. They’d just...pretend this never happened, right? That’d be for the best. No, he was going to get grounded forever for some ‘dumb prank’, since he was fine and worried them so much. Which didn’t seem too bad if it stopped all of...this.

He moved a little. A toe, he was pretty sure. More notably was his mother, carefully getting him off the uneven stair to be flat on his back. Trying to keep his head from moving, and she couldn’t see he was looking at her? When she was this close? Too busy trying to be calm. Who could be busy enough to think he wasn’t breathing or tracking with his eyes? Another twitch, another inward curse that he couldn’t get back in control.

“Just hold on, help is coming.” She said, but the half ghost couldn’t tell who she meant, exactly. Him, dad or herself? Either way the quiet remark did not prepare him for the sheer force slammed into his crest. Like she wanted to slam right through him! Was it so much to ask that his parents stop nearly killing him by trying to help? Just try moving again and everything will be fine.

He couldn’t keep the mental mantra up when he heard- when he felt his ribs crack from the pointless force. She was killing him, he didn’t need help breathing, he had to get it through to them no matter how much his body buzzed and resisted his need to move. He had to focus and push through it, ignoring how cold and wrong it felt, how it seemed like he was squirming free of something that didn’t want him to go.

Her bone crushing assault stopped once he got his arm up, not even needing to touch her before she froze. The fear was wrong, out of place so he redoubled his efforts, twisting and struggling against himself, the sticky mass that wasn’t letting him act or speak to calm them down.

The phone hit the floor. He heard it. So why didn’t dad say anything? Danny twisted, wanting to make sure he was okay. Still stuck. At least he had a hand free and most of an arm, the edges of his fingers tracing the tiles of the floor. He could brace himself that way, pushing down hard to try and jar his shoulder loose. He could hear air moving, like a harsh breath out. Good- breathing was good. Even when it sounded so harsh and low.

“Jack- are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Maddie moved back, giving him the space he wanted ever since she’d cracked his ribs. They still stung under his skin, hissing at him to keep his parents away before he managed to get even more injuries over something so silly.

“I’m not sure what we’re seeing.” The phone remained on the floor.

That didn’t seem right. He’d sat up, mostly. Half sat up, propped up with an arm. Still mostly stuck and uncomfortable, the snapping and crackling sensation still clinging to his free shoulder. Really, he felt worse than how he started. at least there wasn’t pain in ‘hah my body is playing freeze tag without me’ land. The pulling sensation made his head ache and vision swim to the point he wasn’t actually sure if he was still looking at the ceiling or not. He couldn’t go back to just being frozen though, that’d suck. So just convince the rest of himself to get up. No problem!

Were lies in his head always this unconvincing? It felt like yanking himself free of a too sticky slime, strands clinging and tugging back until they finally snapped, parts still stuck but free of the main mass. At least ectoplasm had the decency not to stretch when you got drenched in it most of the time. Come on, focus and keep it together. He let out a wheeze as the last stubborn strands snapped, ignoring how loud it sounded to properly reorient himself.

Sitting up, properly, good! Parents staring with weird, half horrified expressions: bad. Very, very bad.

“I’m okay, I just fell.” Danny spoke, he could speak properly again. So why? “Sorry for scaring you guys?” He tried again, trying to ignore the first thought across his mind.

They kept staring. Maddie seemed to be recovering, shoulders starting to relax, but she seemed to be reaching for her belt.

He didn’t sound right. No, that wasn’t quite right, he just sounded wrong for Danny Fenton. Who he should be right now, he hadn’t been able to talk, let alone go ghost. This probably looked really, really bad. How had he switched, anyway?

Mom was reaching for a gun, wasn’t she? Crud. Now he regretted talking at all, how was he going to explain why Danny Phantom was treating two ghost hunters like his parents? Or how he managed to look like their kid. Maybe he could change back and convince them they were seeing things?

Yeah no, that was way too dumb.

“Wait.” Jack rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder, causing her to stop pulling the weapon. He wasn’t looking at the ghost at all, just her. Maddie remained stiff, not able to ignore the glowing kid on her floor.

Okay...dad was usually the gung ho one. Maybe he could get away with this? Danny tried to get a better grip on the situation. Felt a new pain, sharp and cold in his throat. Deep green scars clashed against his white gloves and ran all across his jumpsuit, glow intensifying as the panic choked him into silence. Fresh and angry like back- back before he managed to stumble out of the portal when he died when the accident happened.

With his human arms just as scared below them, still against the tile. The damage looked old, half scabbed over with only a dull glow deep in the death marks wounds. His arms attached to the rest of his body- that he was half out of.

Why? How was his body still and silent while he was sitting and looking at it. He’s cold. His body is cold. It isn’t breathing there isn’t some other facet of his personality sitting behind the dull blue eyes. This isn’t how it works! If he splits, it’s just temporary, he can fix it but his other half- corpse is wrong.

The pulling and clinging at his legs doesn’t feel like slime anymore. Rotting flesh that wants to drag him back, smother him in a cloying warmth that will only remind him why it burned, how it hurt. He had to move, he couldn’t stay half like this, it would get better once it wasn’t like this.

It didn’t want to let go as he tried to pull away, ectoplasm getting snagged on every nerve and muscle fiber, each pause a reminder of the shock and pain of his end that day.

He knew he screamed when he pulled free and slammed into the wall, furious green scars still marring his jumpsuit where there should be none.

What would Mom and Dad think?

No no no no no. He spotted movement from them and acted. He couldn’t let his mom break his body more, or look at it too closely. Dad couldn’t see what happened! This was fine, he could fix this!

He grabbed his corpse and fled through the wall.

#Danny Phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #jack fenton #Maddie Fenton #there are a lot of way better fics made for this #but hopefully you'll enjoy mine too

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silksandcravats · 3 years

Text

All Tied Up - Viscount!Kylo

Once again I find myself taking my sweet time with the backstory kylo piece so in its place please accept another piece of viscount!kylo smut <3

Lady Ren stumbles across a rather indecent piece of literature which leads to her taken certain sexual liberties with her husband OR reader insert ties Kylo to the bed.

masterlist

Warnings/contents: fem!reader, bondage, PIV sex, unprotected sex, regency era, reader still has limited sexual knowledge, historical inaccuracies probably

You fidgeted with the ribbons in your hand, turning them over and over again. Blue felt like as good a colour as any to use. It was a wicked idea, surely not one that might be expected from a gently bred lady such as yourself. But then, the idea wasn’t originally yours, that terribly indecent book was to blame. And it’s not like you sought the book out! You had only been seeking out the newest Jane Austen novel, which had the town abuzz (though the opinion of the female author herself was rather mixed).

You, unfortunately, had been rather late to hearing about the work, meaning there was not a copy to be spared in all of Mayfair. Not to be deterred, you had linked arms with your ladies maid, and bribed one of your coachmen a whole two pounds to take you into the city. (The act of bribery had become necessary after the man expressed concern that the Viscount might not approve of your excursion, he was right of course but you were not easily dissuaded.)

Whilst scouring the shelves of that London bookshelf, you noticed a book at the end of the row had been turned down so the spine was hidden and pushed back slightly as if someone had been trying to hide it. Upon further inspection you found the title to be, “The art of Basketweaving”.

How curious, you thought to yourself, turning the book over in your hands. Why would anyone have need to hide this?

It took only a brief look inside for you to realise the book had nothing to do with baskets at all. Your cheeks grew very hot and you slammed the book shut, not wanting to be caught reading it, at least not here. And so in the end you returned to Mayfair with a very different sort of book.

Which lead you up to now, sitting in your bedchambers, awaiting your husband who should return from parliament any time now. You turned the book open to study the position once more. It was the most devious, most erotic drawing you had ever seen. The way the man’s wrists had been crossed over and snuggly tied to the bedpost, the way the woman on top appeared to be lowering herself onto him, you had to admit you hadn’t even known it was possible!

You slammed the book quickly when you heard approaching footsteps you knew belonged to your husband. You hid the book in the top drawer of your writing desk, beneath loose stationery, and pushed the door shut.

The Viscount used your first name to greet you, coming into the room just as you tossed the ribbons onto the bed.

“Hello darling,” you smiled turning to face him. You felt slightly nauseous as you watched his eyes flicker briefly to the ribbon on the bed. You made yourself take a deep breath as he turned back to you, trying to force your nerves to calm, he didn’t know what you were up to, he couldn’t.

“I did not expect to find you here at this time of day,” he spoke walking towards you. You hated when he looked at you this way - like he already knew all of your secrets, but you knew you couldn’t look away, that would be as good as branding yourself with the word “guilty”.

“I was hoping we might enjoy each other’s company for a while, before dinner,” you did your best to sound innocent, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Is that so?” He queried, his hands coming down to grasp your waist.

“Yes,” you breathed, tipping your face up to meet his. He kissed you briefly, before pulling back.

“And what might be the occasion?”

“No occasion,” you shook your head, tugging slightly at his cravat. He hummed thoughtfully but didn’t reply, allowing you to pull the material free. You knew he was suspicious, but he didn’t push, allowing you to pull through his layers. His hands roamed you, undressing you at a much slower pace than you were him. And so when you finished you splayed your hands across his chest, and leaned forward, kissing slowly up his torso.

“You’re very eager,” he noted, finally removing your drawers.

“Is such a sin to want one’s husband?” You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping to replace his curiosity with lust.

“Not at all,” He smirked, pulling your now naked form closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you had to be careful here, one wrong move and you would end up below him, and then you might as well forget your plans. You let your hands roam him a moment longer and slowly, slowly backed him up to the bed and then-

“I know you left Mayfair today,” He broke away, speaking down to you. Your brows furrowed.

“How did you-”

“I gave him five pounds.”

He then took you by surprise, dropped back on the bed, and pulling you along on top of him. This was good, now he was right where you wanted him.

“Five?” You gasped, trying to linger on the topic of staff rather than your unauthorised outing. “We shall be out a coachman when he runs off with his new fortune.”

His fingertips grazed the flesh of your hips, tracing your skin, his touch was sinful but you couldn’t allow yourself to bask in it now, you needed his hands higher up. Your situation was still quite precarious after all, he might flip you onto your back at any moment.

“I don’t know what was more foolish, you leaving Mayfair or thinking I wouldn’t know,” he admonished. You grasped his hands, feeling pleased when he cooperated, and dragged them up slowly.

“I did bring Daisy along,” you pointed out, frowning innocently.

“I’m beginning to believe I allow you too many liberties, perhaps I ought to take you in hand,” He spoke suggestively, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes were darkening, you were running out of time, if you were going to act it had to be now.

“Actually,” you leaned in.

All at once, you took over. In a speed even you hadn’t known you possessed, you snatched up your hair ribbons, which were already within arms reach, and shoved his wrists against the headboard, tossing one over the other and tied them to the spot, quickly and firmly. You prayed it was tight enough.

“I should like to take a few more liberties before the day is through,” your lips ghosted over his, your stomach lurched at the boldness of your actions but you held your composure.

“You devilish woman,” he pulled his head back from you, leaning against the pillow to look up at your handiwork. He survived the bonds for a moment but made no effort to yank free, instead he sighed.

“That was very clever of you darling,” he admitted, turning his gaze from his hands to meet you again. “But what do you plan to do now that you have me?”

“A great many things I should think,” you spoke boldly. You reached down and grasped his length, first loosely, then you tightened a bit, give him a few teasing strokes. You watched proudly as his already partially hard cock grew firmer in your grip, fully standing at attention now. Still in the first bloom of marriage, you hadn’t mastered his body yet. You were still learning the best ways to touch and tease.

A few drops were beginning to collect at his tip so you swiped your thumb along his slit, collecting the moisture, the contact making him hiss. And then, feeling incredibly vulgar, you lifted your thumb to your mouth and licking slowly. Kylo let out a shameless moan in response, watching you with great interest. This was going very well indeed.

“And where might my sweet little wife get such a wicked idea from?” He quirked a brow, watching your hand work him. Even now, bound to the bed he looked calm and collected, and perhaps even somehow still in control. In fact, he looked almost as if he was lying in the garden of your country home, basking in the summer sun.

You didn’t answer. He was fully and entirely erect now and so you pulled away, leaning up on his thighs and looking down at him with determination. Your hand slipped between your legs and you touched yourself, pushing two fingers inside of yourself and moving them in a sort of scissoring motion the way Kylo always did before he took you. It wasn’t the same of course, your fingers were smaller and you couldn’t work yourself open the same way, but you did your best given your position.

“If you need help wife, you need but ask,” he chimed, watching you touch yourself. His demeanour was still collected but there was a hunger in his eyes, clearly you weren’t the only one who wished it was his fingers plunged inside of you.

“That’s quite alright husband,” you shook your head, pulling your fingers away and moving above him. You grasped him again aligning himself to your opening and taking a deep breath.

“Go ahead, darling.”

Perhaps he was asking you to hurry along because he was eager, but it was also possible his words were encouraging, and you couldn’t have him thinking you were nervous, so you briskly lowered yourself all the way down, filling yourself to the brim. You both moaned loudly at your action.

You hadn’t been able to open yourself up as well as he does, so the stretch of him burned more deeply than you were used to causing you to wince. Being on top you knew you had all the time you would like to adjust, but you couldn’t give your husband the satisfaction of knowing how affected you were.

And so you adjusted slightly and, -consequential soreness be damned- you began rocking yourself on top of him, up and down. The third time you moved you went too far and he slipped out of you. You nearly cursed but instead you simply repositioned and tried again.

It took you a few tries to set a rhythm, and Kylo, knowing when and when to not tease his wife, kept his amusement to himself as best he could while you gathered your bearings. Finally, you slipped into a fluid pattern, bouncing on top of him rather pleasantly.

Whenever Kylo bedded you, he fully sheathed himself with every single thrust, knocking against something deep inside of you, and he couldn’t help but notice that now that it was your turn you made sure to never drop all the way down. Not because you didn’t enjoy the feeling, he knew you liked it quite a bit, but rather he realised it was too intense for you to subject yourself to.

It felt wonderful to have him this way, but it was taking quite a bit of energy to maintain your pace and you were beginning to develop a newfound sense of respect that he was able to ravish you so frequently and for so long. You knew you’d be able to finish this way, and you were fairly sure he could too, and so you willed yourself to carry on. It wasn’t until you begin to pant softly that Kylo couldn’t resist speaking up.

“You seem to be overexerting yourself, dear, shall I take over for you?” He cooed, his voice sweet and heavy like honey. It was a tempting proposition, to roll over and let him have you, but you finally held power in your grasps, and who knows when you might have it again?

“N-no,” you shook your head violently, picking up the speed even though your muscles were screaming, begging you to stop.

“Very well, come here then,” he nodded once, urging you toward him. You complied, sliding your hands further up his chest and leaning down to kiss him. Once he had your mouth on him he began to move beneath you, rocking up in time with you so that the next time you came down he slid farther inside of you knocking against your cervix making you screech his name, and then he did it again, and again.

“Touch yourself for me,” he groaned against your mouth. And so you did without thinking, having to shift in the process so you could reach, which only allowed him to further space to thrust up into you. You couldn’t believe it, he was topping from the bottom?

“Oh Kylo!” you exclaim, jolting when your fingers found your own little bud.

“That’s it darling,” he groaned, his own composure beginning to cripple, “come with me.” Your chest tightened, your rocking had grown sloppy and he was doing the bulk on the work now, he pushed up into you once, twice more and then your world shattered. Your eyes squeezed shut and your head tilted back, your mouth falling ajar. You felt him finish inside of you, gushing around your walls.

You were breathing heavily, even after the effects of your release had faded, feeling utterly and completely exhausted.

“That was excellent my love,” he spoke, and before you had the chance to free him, he tugged away from the bonds all on his own. The ribbons fell to the bed and you realised he had merely been allowing you to believe you had him subdued. He leaned up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you down to the bed. In instant, you were lying on your back and he on his side, holding you tenderly and wrapping you up in sheets.

“But in the future, I should think it better suited if you were the one in bondage, dear wife.” He dropped a swift kiss on your cheek. “And we will be having a discussion later about your little trip.”

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twistedsin · 3 years

Note

Hi, is it possible to request for a nsfw crewel x student! Reader? ;_; the reader is being a tease and tries to flirt with him during class. Then both of them end of doing it after school in his classroom?Thank you for your time! >.<

ABSOLUTELY!! I really like this request, I am sincerely sorry it took me so long to finish it. I’m glad I finally got to write pet-play professor.

For the context of this fic, we’re going to say Night Raven is a newly co-ed school. Male students still outnumber females, but it is no longer gender exclusive.

Disclaimer: Teacher x student. Don’t fuck your teachers for extra credit in real life, that is not how you succeed.

“Now, what is the element with the hottest melting point?” Crewel pointed his baton your way, as your fingers perked up.

“Tungin” You answered, a small smirk on your lips. The rest of the class started laughing, but your professor was smarter than that.

“Tungsten,” Crewel corrected as the class quieted down, “It is quite a robust element. Incredibly hard.” His eyes connected with yours. “Only in its purest form can you make it putty in your hands.” Crewel turned away and returned to his lecture...

“Now for today’s mini-lab, you and your partner need to list the 15 elements in order of weight. Once you have them all correct you may leave.”

You paired up with the person next to you and tried to cooperate with them. There was much more you looking over at Crewel than actually helping with the worksheet.

Eventually you 'accidentally' tossed your pen from your hand in the direction of his desk. It hit the floor and rolled to one of the legs, the placement couldn't have been more perfect. "Oops... I'll be right back." You told your partner, who didn't seem to care since you weren't helping anyway.

Concealing your bright smile with a mischievous, you walked over to the professor’s desk, his attention turning to you. "Did you have a question?" He rose a brow looking you over.

"Nope, just needed to get my pencil. It rolled over here." You explain as you drop to your knees in front of him, taking your time to turn onto all fours, your ass up and wiggling as you felt around for your pencil. Divus shifted in his chair, seeming to be looking back at the papers rather than the curve of your ass barely covered by the short uniform skirt. If he leaned back a little, he'd probably be able to see your panties, or if you were wearing any.

Unfortunately, he did not, and gave you a disinterested response, "If you can't find it. I'll loan you a new one. You should get back to your assignment." A small pout formed on your face before you grabbed your pencil and stood. "Wait," He called out when you were a few steps away. You eagerly turned, "Yes, sir?"

"In class, it's Professor, not sir." Divus held out a paper to you, your last test with the results in red at the top. A 69/100, not great. "Your grades seem to be slipping and this attitude of yours, I think you may need a reminder of who's in charge. See me after school."

"Yes, professor." You squeaked out trying not to smile too much. Sure you were in trouble but seeing him after school meant that the two of you would be alone together. And that part about teaching you who was in charge, it was way too easy to find a hidden meaning in that. Now it was even harder to focus on the work at hand. Even through the rest of your classes, all you could think about what Divus was going to teach you later.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Professor?" You called out, entering the classroom before waiting for a response, "You wanted to see me?”

"What is the point of knocking, if you're not going to wait for an answer?" Divus sighed from behind his desk. "You may come in. Be sure to lock the door. I hate when students just think they can barge in." He watched, making sure you did what you were told. Once you had locked the door you obediently went over and stood in front of his desk.

"I made it a goal to be sure none of my pups had red marks this semester." He removed his glasses and moved the stack of paperwork into a drawer. "You are at risk of me breaking this promise, and I won't have it." He stood, and walked around the desk to stand in front of you. "You need more discipline."

"You think scolding me is going to make work harder?" I mean it might, depending on the type of punishment. "Maybe I want red marks." You wanted them more on your body than your report card though.

He was unamused at your response. "I've trained plenty of other litters, my methods have yet to fail. I've dealt with your type too. So, what is this new issue of yours that has you so distracted in class?" He took a step closer, leaving him right in front of you, "Or should I guess."

“Well... It’s just hard for me to focus on chemical reactions when my body always has such a strong reaction to you. It’s easy for my mind to wander to more reactive activities.”

A smirk crossed his lips, as he leaned in, “Like my tongue inside you?”

You shivered from his warm breath on your ear. You felt your lower regions pulse, thoughts of your little fantasy popping up in your mind. You needed a moment to regain your composure. “Tongue just happened to work with the element, I’m not opposed to any other part of you being in me either~”

“Quite a bold little puppy you are.” Crewel took a step back looking you over. “Since that's the issue let's try and see if you can focus on one of those activities,” He pointed the baton at his desk, “Sit.” You eagerly obey, taking a seat on the side edge of his desk.

He took off his coat and placed it on the coat stand before moving back to his desk. “If you still can't focus, or misbehave then this stops." He started sifting through the bottom left drawer. “Hold this.” He shut the drawer and stood holding a wrapped condom to your lips. You softly took the corner of the package in your mouth. “Don’t drop it.”

The order was a bit harder to follow than you thought as he almost teasingly slowly removed his tie and undid a few buttons on his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair before undoing his pants and pulling out his dick. You would have licked your lips if you could.

“You look hungry pet.” You spread your legs as his gloved hand ran up your thigh. He stepped closer, slowly grinding his erection against your wet panties. You let out a needy whine shifting your hips as a way to encourage him. Your core tightened just from the grinding, it just made you want him more. “You’re so excited, aren’t you? I wonder, how often have you masturbated to the idea of me fucking you in this classroom?”

You gave him a lustful look as he finally took the condom from your mouth. “Enough to have some expectations” You gave a coy smile but he simply responded with a smirk.

“I doubt those will hold up to the real thing.” Once the condom was on his hands trailed up your thighs. Your breathing grew heavy with lust at his teasing touch. The way he took his time was driving you crazy.

You narrowed your eyes at him, wanting to scold him to hurry it up, but he simply stared back a small upward curve at the corner of his mouth. His threat of stopping if you misbehaved floating through your head. There was no way you were going to risk this ending not when you were so close. His fingers finally caught the edges of your panties and pulled them off, a strand of your juices dragging out.

Crewel licked his lips, finally grabbing your hips and tugging you against him. “Let’s see if you meet my expectations.” He rubbed against you a few times before slowly pushing in, leaving you time to adjust. He wasn’t sure how experienced you were and didn’t want to push you too much. While the feeling was tight, and a bit painful with how active your insides had been it wasn’t too bad to adjust to. “Ah~ Y-you’re finally inside, Professor Crewel!" You gasped between your shaky moans. A smile formed on your face from looking down at how he stretched you. There was still so much left to fill you with and you couldn't wait.

His hand gripped your chin to look back up at him. "Wrong. It's Master or Master Crewel now. Do you understand pet?"

"Yes Master Crewel." It was easy enough to remember the name as you referred to him as such in most of your fantasies anyway.

His hand slid up your cheek to push some of your hair away from your face, "Good girl. I won't hesitate to drill the idea into you if you forget."

Now that you had had time to adjust and names were sorted, it was time to set things in motion. His thrusts were smooth and slow at first. Even with such little stimulation, your walls were pulsing around him, squeezing as if trying to pull him deeper. It made him want to go wild, but he of course had control and would wait patiently until you let him do so.

Your head tilted back, calling out his name. "Good pet. Just like that. I can tell you're enjoying yourself." He smirks, "Is it all your imagined? Or did you want it rougher?" He'd be happy to oblige his student's needs since they waited so long. It would be easier for them to focus if he fulfilled the fantasy correctly.

"More." Your voice was merely a whisper at first, rising as you knew mewling wasn't a satisfying answer for him. "I want to take all of you. I want you to move faster. Please, Master! Fuck me! I can take it, I need your cock!" You begged, feeling needy. You had let your thoughts of him been wandering for too long to not indulge yourself. You wanted him to fuck you so that you never needed another fantasy of him, just memories of this moment.

"Such a needy pet." His hips stilled, "Lay down." His hand rested on your back to ease you into laying down across the length of his desk. He pushed your legs up and open. One of his hand resting on one of your knees, the other on the table so he could lean over you, "Let's test how much you can take."

With this new positioning, he had more leverage, and now that he wasn't holding himself back as much anymore it was almost a whole different experience from when he first ented you. His whole cock was sliding in and out of you.

His thrusts are almost wild, nothing like the slow pace he had kept before. If he hadn't laid you back beforehand you would have fallen back on your own. His entire cock being pushed inside you now, it filled you up so nicely. With these deeper thrusts, his shaft brushed against your sweet spot from time to time. Your body clenched tightly around him each time, never wanting him to pull out yet wanting him to thrust even faster and deeper. He carefully watched your expressions as the pleasure overcame you. The way your eyes became hazy and that small smile as you gasped and groaned. Some words slipping out occasionally, mostly master, yes, and more.

"Such a good pet. You're already surpassing my expectations." Divus cooed, "Is this everything you thought about?"

"Y-yes!" You cried out between gasps. "It feels so good. So much better than a fantasy."

"Good. Then there is no reason to keep daydreaming in class then."

"Yes. No... I-" You couldn't focus on his questions right now, or what the right answer was. You just wanted to cum and enjoy the feeling of him thrusting into you. "I'm going to cum. Master please~"

You suddenly felt a sharp sting on your thigh as his gloved hand slapped your skin. "Answer me first pet. Are you going to focus in class?" His thrusts slowed to your dismay.

"Yes! I'll focus in class! I'll raise my grade I promise!" You called out a bit panicked and desperate for him to continue.

Divus chuckled a bit, enjoying your desperation. "I'm expecting good results then." His hips regained their rapid pace from before, "Now you can cum, pet." Now given permission and his thorough pace returned it didn't take long for your body to reach its peak and your orgasm to course through you. The way your body clenched and spasmed around him had him cumming soon after you. He rode out the pleasure high before finally stopping his thrusts and pulling out of you.

A pout accompanied by a small whine formed at the loss of his cock so soon, but you couldn't stay upset. He just looked way too sexy running his hand through his hair, leaning over you catching his breath. Divus gave a small smile as his eyes caught yours. "Good girl. You performed well."

He helped you to sit up on his desk then discarded the condom and began fixing his pants. "If you do well on the next test, I'll reward you just like this." Once he was situated, he let you rest your head against his chest while he fixed up your uniform. "If not then I'll have to find other ways to get you to behave."

You knew it was meant as a warning but it just excited you. "Yes, Master Crewel. I'll do my best."

481 notes · View notes

sharkselfies · 3 years

Text

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 1

Since some folks requested it on Twitter, I’ve started transcribing The Minds Behind The Terror podcast episodes! Below the cut you’ll find episode 1, where showrunners Dave Kajganich and Soo Hugh talk to Dan Simmons, the author of the novel The Terror, about episodes 1-3 of the show. They discuss Simmons’s initial inspiration for writing the book, the decisions they made to adapt it into a television series, and the depictions of some of the characters such as the Tuunbaq, Hickey, and “Lady Silence.”

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 1

[The Terror opening theme music plays]

Dave Kajganich: Hello! Welcome to Minds Behind The Terror podcast. I’m Dave Kajganich, I am a creator and one of the showrunners of the AMC show The Terror, and I’m here in the studio with executive producer and co-showrunner Soo Hugh.

Soo Hugh: Hello!

DK: And we welcome today the author of the sublime novel The Terror, on which our show is based, author Dan Simmons, calling in from Colorado. Welcome, Dan! Hi!

Dan Simmons: Hi Dave, thank you.

DK: So let’s start with the very beginning. This was a mystery from actual naval history that you decided to transform into a novel that was crossed with Gothic horror. Can you tell us a little bit about where you got the idea from this, how you went about preparing to write it, anything that can give us insight into how you blended all of these remarkable genres into this incredible book.

DS: I’ve known since I was a kid that I wanted to tell a story about either the North or South Pole. And the reason is in 1957, 58, when I was very young, actually I was just a fetus, they had the international geophysical year, and that really caught my imagination. Now the international geophysical year saw cooperation between American and Soviet scientists, it was the height of the Cold War, that’s the first time they submit(?) a permanent base at the South Pole, and I fell in love with Arctic stories. I had one book left on a book contract with a publisher I really liked, and we hadn’t decided what that book was, and I wanted to write a scary story about the Arctic, in this case the Northern Arctic, and that happened because I was doing a lot of research on Antarctica and just couldn’t figure out what the macabre, Gothic, scary part would be. I wanted to put it in, but I didn’t think they’d go for, you know, an eight foot tall vampire penguin.

[laughter]

DK: You might be surprised!

DS: There was a footnote on a book I was reading about the Franklin Expedition, which I had never heard of, and I decided that’s what I was gonna write about, and it had a tremendous amount of the unknown that I could fill in, that’s what novelists love. And so I told my editors excitedly that this was what I was gonna do, I would call it The Terror after the HMS Terror that went with the Erebus, got stuck in the ice, all the crew disappeared in history… And they said no.

[laughter]

DS: ...it was the first time the publishers did that. I said, “Why not? I think it’s gonna be a pretty good novel.” And they said, “Look, nobody’s interested in a bunch of people that’ve been dead for 150 years.”

SH: That sounds like some of our meetings.

[laughter]

DS: So I did what maybe you do, in such a meeting, I just thanked them, and I liked them all, and I had a good dinner(?) and I said goodbye, and bought back my last book on the contract and went out and wrote it on spec.

SH: Well why don’t we take a step back, Dave, and why don’t you tell us about how you found Dan’s book and that experience?

DK: Sure! Dan, you might remember some of these steps from your side of it, which is that originally this was auctioned by Universal as a feature, and I sort of tried to get the rights and was a bit too late, and tracked them down to the producers at Universal who were running the project and got myself hired as the screenwriter for a feature adaptation. By the time I was ready to start actually committing an outline to the paper, Universal had let the rights go because there was a competing project. It was interesting to sort of rack up reasons why people wanted to make it but didn’t feel that they could pull the trigger, and we were so grateful when AMC finally called us back and said, “Look, we’ve figured out a model where we can do this as a limited series,” it really felt like ten episodes was a great length for this, because we could blend genres in a way that, you know, we could unpack sort of slowly, more slowly than a lot of shows would’ve done, and drive the plot as much as we could, like the novel, with character choices and decisions as opposed to just horror kind of entering the frame and taking over for one set piece after another. So it was a long journey, getting this to AMC, but at the end of the day I think we found the right home for it.

DS: I can no longer imagine a two hour version, feature film version of this story, and I can’t imagine a second season of this story, I think it was just right.

SH: It does feel like we did a ten hour cinematic novel.

[audio from the show]

Crozier: Only four of us at this table are Arctic veterans. There’ll be no melodramas here--just live men, or dead men.

SH: Dan, Dave and I talk about how addictive the research gets for this when you start going down the rabbit hole, how did you approach the research?

DS: I think most novelists run into that, but since I write a lot of quasi-historical novels, at least set in history, I get totally addicted to going down the rabbit hole. Readers say, “Well, Simmons’ book is too long, and the descriptions of things are too exhausting,” but I watch your characters go on deck and there are all the things and views and everything that I tried so hard to describe and then people tell me, y’know, “talky, verbose,” and in print I have to do it that way, but you just pan the camera a little bit.

DK: You have words, we have images! For every thousand of yours, we get one!

DS: Yeah.

SH: But I remember this passage in your book where it talks about all the different ices, and you vest it with so much psychological import. We talk about that passage a lot in the writers room, it was one of our highlights, of this is how you do great descriptive writing.

DK: And you made so many parallels between things like the environments of the ships and characters, you built a kind of code book for the show without realizing you were doing it, which is making visual metaphors out of a lot of these things that would normally just be exposition or historical detail.

SH: Well especially between Crozier and the ship, I mean when you hear about Crozier’s relationship with Terror, and you have so many amazing passages about, you know, the groan of the ship and how it, y’know, and you cut to a scene with Crozier and how you feel that the bones of Crozier is embedded in the ship, and we really took a lot from that.

DS: Well I noticed that on one of the episodes where Lord Franklin [sic] is trying to get back in touch with Crozier, you know, trying to be friends with him again, I think it’s a brilliant episode you guys wrote.

[show audio]

Franklin: You’ve succeeded in avoiding Erebus most of the winter.

Crozier: I’m a captain. I’m--I’m peevish off my own ship. I leave it and I hear disaster knocking at its door, before I’m ten steps away.

DS: And that was beautifully written, that. You got so much of Crozier right there.

DK: It was a pleasure to write these characters on the backs of your writing of these characters, because you really--I mean, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do, as you know, from having written, you know, a whole long string of historical books, is to make these people’s psychologies feel as modern as they must have felt in their day, while still being able to articulate some of the blind spots of being from the eras they were from.

I’m curious from sort of a history nerd point of view, if people watch the series and like the series, and read the book and like the book, and want to know more about this expedition, what’s the first book about the Franklin Expedition you would point people to? What was most helpful or most interesting in your research?

DS: I apologize, I can’t think of the name of it, but it’s a collection of stories about both the South and North Pole, and so it’s a short section on the Franklin Expedition, but it didn’t make mistakes, and most of the other books that I read, uh, keyed, and videos for that matter, like PBS did a story about the Franklin Expedition, but they keyed off a 1987 attempt by several doctors to figure out what happened to the crew, and they exhumed three crewmen’s bodies from the first island where they stayed the first winter, and those crewmen had only been on the ship a couple of months, but they decided because of a high lead content that the lead had poisoned them and then made them stupid, and made them paranoid and everything, but they didn’t compare that test of lead with any background people in London at the time, and later they did, so I didn’t believe the lead thing.

DK: Well that’s the fascinating thing about a mystery with this many parts and pieces, kind of in flux, is, you know, you can create all kinds of competing narratives about it, and what’s fascinating about writing a fictional version is you can’t have that kind of ambiguity, you have to make a decision. I think people will enjoy very much ways that the show and the book have a similar point of view, and also ways that they diverge in their points of view, because there are so many ways to tell this story--

SH: Well you know how much we invest responsibility in the audience as well, right?

DK: Sure.

SH: In terms of your book and our show as well, we’re not against interpretation, that there’s a responsibility on the audience’s part to put together--we’re not gonna hand feed them. There’ll be some people who put more of an onus on Franklin, and others who would say, “You know, if I was in that position, I probably would’ve made the same decision,” “Oh no, this definitely killed the men,” “No, this killed them!” and that dialogue is exciting, you know, when you read fans talk about your show and your books and really smart, insightful ways.

[show audio]

Franklin: Would it help if I said that I made a mistake?

Crozier: You misunderstand me, Sir John, I--I only meant to describe why I brood, not that I judge.

DS: I don’t worry about who or what my reading audience is. People ask me about that and I don’t imagine a certain reader. But I’ve always tried to write for somebody who’s more intelligent than I am. My perfect reader would be just smart as hell, speak eight languages, you know, have fantastic world experiences, and I want to write something that will please that person, and I think your show does the same thing.

DK: Well we were--that was our motto! We wanted to be sort of the dumbest members of our collaboration and there’s a sort of horrifying moment when you realize that’s come true.

[laughter]

[show background music]

DK: Tell us a little bit about why you made the decisions to tell the story in the order you told it, and whether you sort of felt like there was anything from the way you had told it that we were--or a missed opportunity. We’d love to know sort of what your experience of that was.

DS: I don’t think there were any missed opportunities in terms of not adapting my way of telling it, and I can’t remember all the reasons for why I broke it down that way, some of them were just very localized to, you know, when I was writing that particular bit. But I do know that it gains a lot by being told chronologically the way you’re doing it, so for me that seems now the logical way to tell it again.

DK: Have you ever read the novel in chronological order? When we hired writers for the writers room, we gave them a list of what the chapters were like in chronological order, and I think we asked half the room to read it in your order and half the room to read it in chronological order so we could have a discussion, a meaningful discussion about whether there were things about telling it without being in chronological order that we wanted to embrace or not. It was a fantastic experience and I wonder if you’ve ever read your chapters in chronological order? ‘Cause it’s also a fantastic book!

[laughter]

DS: I haven’t read it that way, they were that way in my mind before I started getting fancy and breaking them up and moving them around in time and space, but I would love to have seen that experiment.

DK: The reason we can get away with it in the show is because there is a loved book out there that people trust, and you know, it is a classic in this genre, so I mean this is a perfect example of, you know, the amount of gratitude we owe the book, because we got away with a lot of things that maybe we wouldn’t have been able to get away with because you came before us.

SH: And speaking of those rabid fans, Dan, it’s been really interesting reading audience reactions to the show from people who’ve loved the books and who just naturally will compare the two, and we’ve been heartened by just how supportive our fans have become--are of the show. There is this controversy, some people like our choice to give Lady Silence a voice and some people feel it was sacrilege to your book, where do you fall on that? DS: At first I was surprised. In fact when you were hunting for an actress for Lady Silence and I read about that, it said somebody who’s fluent in this Inuit language and this Inuit language, and I said, “What the hell?”

[show audio]

[Silna speaking Inuktitut to her dying father]

DS: Having seen her with the tongue and heard her, and knowing the different reason they call her Lady Silence, it all works for me and I was also surprised when Captain Crozier could speak fairly fluent, you know, dialect, ‘cause I had him just not understanding a thing.

[show audio]

[Crozier speaking Inuktitut to Silna in the same scene as above]

DS: I love it when readers get rabid about not changing something from a book, and I have to talk to them sometimes, not ‘cause I have a lot of things adapted, this is the first one, but I love movies. They say “Aren’t you worried it will hurt your book?” and first I explain Richard Comden(?)’s idea that you can’t hurt a book anyway, except by not reading it, I mean the books are fine, no matter how bad some adaptation becomes. Books abide, and so I wasn’t concerned. With the changes that I see, I get sorta tickled, whereas some readers get upset, and they just have that set. So I think that the vast majority of viewers haven’t--well, I know the vast majority haven’t read the book, haven’t heard of the book, probably, they’re gonna keep watching because of the depth of the characters, and that’s based on the first two episodes, and I agree with them completely.

[show audio]

[Silna speaking Inuktitut]

Crozier: She said that if we don’t leave now, we’re going to “huk-kah-hoi.”

Blanky: Disappear.

SH: We get asked a lot of questions about the supernatural element of the show and the way a monster does or does not figure in the narrative, and seeing our episodes, did it feel surprising or did it feel faithful to the way you imagined it as well to your book?

DS: It was surprising to me at how well it was done, because it’s hard, I know, to show restraint in a series like this, and certainly in a movie, but it’s hard to show restraint at showing and explaining the monster.

[show audio]

[ominous music, Tuunbaq roaring, men screaming]

DS: The way you did it in the first few episodes to me were just lovely, just, you know, a hint of a glance at something and then you see the results of this creature, so that’s what I tried to do in the novel, one of the reasons I moved around through space and time, part of what I wanted to do was not cheapen the story and not cheapen the reality of these poor men dying by just throwing in a monster, and so I tried to do it in a way that would not disrespect the true tale, and I believe you’re doing it the same way I tried.

DK: The way you incorporated the supernatural into the book, I mean, I was a fan of it when I first read it. It was jaw dropping the way that it fits so well on a level of plot, on a level of character, and on a level of theme. So when we got the green light to adapt it I was so confident that we were going to be able to do something with it that would be able to be nuanced because the bones of it are so organically terrific.

SH: It helped us know what we didn’t want to do. That formed so much of our conversation, of “this is what we do not want, this is what we do not want,” and slowly you whittled down to getting down to the essence of what this thing had to be.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq growling]

DK: Another character from the book that really stands out for fans that they are wondering what in the world we’re doing with is Manson. [laughter] And I was curious what you made of the fact that he is pretty invisible in the first three episodes of the show, and that some of his plot beats have been given to a character called Gibson, who I don’t remember is--I don’t think he’s featured very much in the novel. And I wondered if that caught you off guard or if you sort of intuitively had a sense of what we were doing in making that change?

DS: Any discussion of Manson to me leads to Hickey converting him to his future, his tribe, the tribe he wants to have, group of worshippers, that I think Hickey wants to have, but he does it by sex below decks. Hickey’s not gay at all, he’s a manipulator, to me, and he was manipulating Manson who was big and dumb, in my book, he’s manipulating him by this sexual encounter. But I was curious whether you were worried about showing that?

DK: Well, we weren’t worried about showing characters having same-sex affairs or relationships. We wanted to make room in Hickey’s character for actual affection, or if not affection then companionship, or some kind of connection.

[show audio]

Hickey: Lieutenant Irving! I was hoping we’d meet.

Crewman: Mind the grease there, sir.

Hickey: I wanted to... thank you… for your help. For your discretion, I mean.

Irving: Call it anything but help, Mr. Hickey. Please. I exercised clemency for a man abused by a devious seducer.

DK: We wanted to make sure that Hickey had access to command in some way that a steward, an officer’s steward, would be able to provide him, that an able seaman wouldn’t be able to provide him, and that was really valuable to us in terms of charting out all of these character stories, was how does he know what he knows about how command is dissatisfied or where the fractures are if he can’t see them from where he’s sleeps in his cot in the forecastle.

SH: I mean we know that there were relations between the same sex on ships, it just was part of this world. Not to belie that there was serious consequences for it, but you know, we have 129 characters, and we wanted them to feel fully fledged and rich, and, you know, passions do naturally develop and have no characters engaged in sexual relations would have felt just as odd and perhaps even more controversial, and when Irving discovers Gibson and Hickey, his shock is from such a subjective point of view of his moral center. It’s not the camera’s perspective, right? Our camera’s very neutral in that scene. It’s Irving, that character at that point in the show, that is infusing a sense of horror, that’s his horror moment.

DS: I’d like to add that it’s not the gay connection that would cause criticism, but I was flayed alive because the most openly quote “gay” unquote character, that is, Hickey, you know, maybe hunting for affection but definitely hunting for power, he’s the only one they said in reviews, and he’s a killer and a bad person, so I’m homophobic, but I was flayed alive for that. The word homophobic appeared in about 80 reviews. Nobody mentioned the purser, who uh--

DK: Right, Bridgens and Peglar.

DS: Yeah. I thought he was a fascinating character. I loved getting glimpses of him in the series because he’s super smart, he’s super wise, he’s probably wiser than any of the commanders, ahd he’s obviously in love with--who is it that he’s in love with in the show?

DK: Peglar.

DS: Yes, that makes sense. And, uh, so Peglar says, you know, “Is this another Herodotus?” and, “No, I’m giving you Swift now,” he’s educating the man he cares for.

[show audio]

Hickey: I understand you cleared up our “association” for Lieutenant Irving? Gibson: You spoke to him.

Hickey: Mhm.

Gibson: Directly?

(beat)

Christ, Cornelius, I’d reassured him.

Hickey: Cornelius Hickey is a “devious seducer.” That was your--that was your reassurance? You’ve got some face, you know that?

DK: We wouldn’t have dramatized Hickey’s story if we weren’t also going to pull in Peglar and Bridgens’ story, because we knew that people, you know, are predisposed to sort of make that kind of quick assumption, and we just wanted to make sure that the show didn’t have that blind spot and reflected the book, which also doesn’t have that blind spot.

SH: We had those same questions with Lady Silence, and I’m sure you did as well. When we meet her, she’s a frightened young woman who’s about to lose her father, and that’s a universal character moment that anyone can relate to, and the otherness is sort of--is secondary, but then once--in the end scene of 1.02, when she’s sitting there grieving her father and then you have that language barrier with everyone else, we worked with Nive on this because we wanted to make sure the language itself was as accurate as possible, so when you say disappear making sure that the disappear in our language means the same thing as disappear in her language. I think whenever you have characters that feel othered in most media and you’re bringing them into your show, Dave and I also just wanted to make sure we weren’t swaying on the pendulum on the other side and being almost too careful about touching them, and with Nive I think when you have an actor of that talent, she was strong, she was representing a voice that she felt very confident in, and that was very reassuring for us.

DS: And it works well, and when her father’s dying, she throws herself on his chest and says “I’m not ready, it’s too soon, I’m not ready,” and I love that in the show because if she’s gonna become a Shaman he’s dying you know it’s not reached that point of education yet where she feels secure and later on you know beyond what we’re discussing today she becomes to me in the show I see her as more and more majestic.

SH: I do love the word majestic ‘cause I think it describes pretty much all of our characters. I agree, I do think there is something very sublime about who they have become at the end because when you go through that much trials and tribulations, it’s this beautiful human spirit to endure.

DS: I think that’s one of the central themes of the story that you’ve brought out so clearly. In most post-apocalypse, you know, terrible situation movies and shows, everybody turns nasty as hell, they start shooting each other, it’s just like WWIII when they should be helping each other survive, and I found even though there was controversy, even though there was opposition in this story, people opposing against each other, still that they rose to the occasion. And that is so rare I think in much media these days or even books where the characters are themselves and they do the best they can, and when things get bad they rise to the occasion.

DK: The first conversation you and I had about the book, you know, I was basically pitching you sort of what I thought thematically the book was about, and I talked a lot about, that in a disaster like this, a kind of moral emergency, that we would get a chance to unpack what is sort of best and worst in these characters’ souls.

DS: I confuse readers often when I was on book tour for this book, and it was a long time ago, I’ve written a few million words since then, but I confused people by saying that if you want a theme for the survival story of The Terror, it’s love. It’s love between the men. And just unstinting love. And this came out in a piece of dialogue, in the first two episodes.

[audio from the show]

Franklin: I’ll not have you speak of him uncharitably, James. He is my second. If something were to happen to me, you would be his second. You should cherish that man.

Fitzjames: Sometimes I think you love your men more than even God loves them, Sir John.

Franklin: For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong.

DS: That to me was right the theme I was working with, and with Crozier who shows it a different way, with Fitzjames who’s struggling to show leadership, and between the men despite their hierarchy and the British hierarchy, the rank and lieutenants and so forth, eventually they come down to loving the men they try to save. And I found that lovely.

[The Terror opening theme music plays]

DK: Thank you so much for listening to The Minds Behind The Terror, join us in our next edition when we talk about episodes 4-6 with the additional guest Adam Nagaitis phoning in from London. We will see you soon!

[preview snippet from the next episode plays]

DS: I’ll confess something else to Adam, the first time I watched it, I thought your character was a good guy because he jumped down in that grave to put the lid back on.

[laughter]

#the terror #the terror amc #the minds behind the terror #david kajganich #soo hugh #dan simmons #personal #eps 2-4 should be up within the next couple days here!#hope this will be helpful!#also i am absolutely not a professional lmk if you see any mistakes or think a dif format would be better #and i'll add a google doc link in the reblogs too the tags will just break if it try to add it now

109 notes · View notes

oh-my-may · 4 years

Text

Sakusa, Tsukishima and Kenma when their s/o gets a wound

requested: sakusa, tsukki, and kenma with a s/o who gets a wound? maybe they went to do an activity and get their knees scraped bad and the boys find out? how would they take care of their s/o?

Sakusa was such a good pick for this oh my that’s probably why his is a bit longer please forgive me I am weak for him ok

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

There were not a lot of things you could do as dates, since Sakusa declined most of your suggestions saying that it would be too unhygienic or too much work making sure everything would be clean.

But when you came up with the idea of going wandering on a mountain trail, where only mostly elderly people where, he was all for it. Of course he also didn’t liek staying insiode all the time, and a place where anybody went while being in nature sounded like music to his ears.

However you regretted your decision soon after you guys started your trip. You were breathing heavily and your legs already felt like spaghetti and you werent even halfway up the hill. Sakusa however, with his amazing sports stamina was walking ahead and barely notived that you fell way behind, until he wanted to talk to you and you didn’t respond to his words. He turned around wondering where you were. Did you maybe get lost? But then he saw you hanging over, your hands placed on your knees and you looked up to him smiling, but you couldn’t hide the exhaustion.

Your boyfriend couldn’t help but chuckle seeing you like that. He walks to you and stops in front of you, tilting his head while he observes your heaving figure. “You know, we can just return if you want to. But the air up here is really good and I guess it’s even better at the top.” You just shake your head, insisting on continuing this trip because it hasn’t been often that you saw Kiyoomi this careless. You were determined to make this an enjoyable trip for the both of you, but especially him. He deserved a pause from his hectic life.

So he grabs your hand and walks slowly beside you for a while, both of you enjoying the nature around you and the fresh air sweeping through your lungs. When you’re finally at the top you have a nice picnic while enjoing the view over the land, watching leaves dance in the wind and tumbling around you, taking in all the scents of exotic flowers and birds chirping somewhere in the tree tops.

You feel a lot better when you get back down. Walking down on a mountain is a lot less exhausting than walking up, after all. Your steps fly more easily. Too easily. You’re more careless with your steps and before you can stop it you stumble over a big rock in your way, landing on your knees before Sakusa can grab your wrist. However he’s quick to help you up again and you flinch and hiss when you shift your weight on your left leg again. Your knee is totally scraped, a small rill of blood running down your leg. Some small stones still stick to your skin and Sakusa is quick to pull out a small package from his backpack, because this man never goes anywhere unprepared.

He helps you sit down on a tree trunk next to the path you were walking and he looks at you with slight amusement but also worry in his eyes. He sighs before leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of your head and then kneels down in front of you, taking care of the wound. “What am I gonna do with you? You’re so clumsy...” he mumbles and you have to smile, though your knee still burns badly. Sakusa takes care of it perfectly, even kissing the bandage on top of your knee after he’s done. However, he doesn’t let you walk down again, he carries you down all the way on his back and you’re not complaining.

You just cling onto him and cuddle into his back, burying your face in his neck and stroking his hair occassionally, thanking him for taking care of you so well. He smiles to himself when he feels you pressing to him, feeling your breath so close on his skin.

After the trip he still checks up on your knee everyday, even when it’s not a wound that serious. He still claims that it shouldn’t get infected and that he’s the only one besides a doctor that can take proper care of it. Always kisses your knee after every check up! A true cariing cutie, I am way too soft for this man

Tsukishima Kei:

It was hard to get Tsukishima thrilled of the idea of going somewhere special to hang out. He was more of the stay inside kinda person, preferring just cuddling up to you in private.

You accepted his choices (even though you still got him to go to certain places sometimes) and that’s how you transformed everyday situations into little dates. Like lunch in school or staying in your garden instead of in the house, sometimes you’d even join his practice and watch him there. Even though he would never admit it, he enjoyed it when you do that. It always makes his insides all giddy and warm because you care for him so much!

You also always walk home together, talking about anything on your way or just quietly listening to music while enjoying each other’s company, silently holding or hands or sometimes he’ll just sling an arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him, walking like that for a while.

Today however you were “balancing” on a wall next to the sidewalk while talking to Kei and rambling about your day. It was fun to you focusing on taking the right steps, even though the platform you were walking on was not that small. You still had to be careful about where you placed your feet, because there were roots and other plants growing over and through the stone. “Ugh anyway, and then our teacher just made us write a test, and it was fine I guess but still sucked.” you ended your little rant.

“Y/N, are you really sure you should walk up there? Don’t you think it would be safer down here? You’re gonna get hurt if you don’t look out.” Tsukki just says while looking up to you with a vague face. You almost laughed seeing him like that. Was he actually worrying about you? Contrary to you always worrying about him at games, this was a nice change.

“Don’t be silly Kei, I’ve been balancing on things since I was a child, literally nothing will happen-” And that’s when you literally cursed yourself, because just moment later you stumble over a root and fall down, though you manage to cushion your fall with your hands which got the most damage.

Your boyfriend is right next to you in no time, helping you up and scanning your body for any injuries, but luckily only your hands got injured and your elbow felt weird, making your whole arm feel like some sort of pudding. Tsukki is just shaking his head while taking in the scrapes and cuts on your hands. You flinch when he softly touches your strained skin and he looks at you with disapproval. His eyes literally tell you “I told you so.” but fortunately he has enough tactfulness to not say it out loud. He accompanies you to your house, constantly shaking his head when you whimper and pout because your hands hurt.

He reluctantly helps you clean your hands, because he claims he’s not good with that kind of stuff and he only helps you bandage the wound because you don’t want to move your hands too much. Quiet sounds of disapproval still leave his lips as he does, though. Something like that could never happen to him, he says. Still, the look in his eyes is loving. He appreciates your playful side a lot. Without it, his life would be pretty plain. Without YOU it would be.

He loves you, but please prepare for a bunch of teasing after the incident. He will never let you climb on something or balance somewhere every again for a long time because honestly? He cares about you a little too much and he can’t bear to see you hurt in any way.

Kenma Kozume:

Kenma always seemed to be busy with some things. In the morning it was school, in the afternoon volleyball practice and in the evening and at night he was usually gaming.

You tried you best to insert yourself into his routine. Walk to school with him, spend the breaks at school with him, game with him, watch him at practice. You were fine with it, really, because you noticed how over the time he got more cooperative and sometimes skipped volleyball practice to hang out with you, or he was starting to game a bit less in order to go to the cinema with you etc.

But you still treasured the time the most when you could hang with him normally, like at practice. You could actually spend hours watching him do something else other than hanging over his console.

And the other members loved you, too. They appreciated you being at practice, it was like having another manager. You also took care of them and told them everything you observed, you brought snacks and cheered for them in any game. Sometimes you’d even join in during training camps and get along with other teams, as well.

You normally used your time during practice to do homework or work on other things, but today you helped out as the “ballboy/girl” basically and ran around the gym catching the flying volleyballs and collecting them for the boys. You’d throw them back to them or helped them to serve the ball, but you were always just moving around the whole time. You didn’t mind, though. It was actually very fun, the boys were constantly joking around. But Kenma didn’t look all that amused whenever a ball just closely missed you or when you almost fell in an attempt to catch a ball.

You watched as him and Yaku were talking to Lev and teaching him how to do a proper serve. The first year was listening eagerly, moving his hands and arms around enthusiastically and you found yourself grinning when Kenma moved his hands over his face in frustration.

Then it finally came to Lev putting all the tips into something and he was standing at the end of the field, ready to serve. You watched him fail a few times until he hit the ball with a loud bang and slammed it over the net, right to where you were standing. No one had enough time to react properly and before you could even think about diodging the ball landed straight on your chest and you fell backwards, hitting your head on the floor hard. For a moment you couldn’t see or hear anything, just darkness and dancing light in front of your eyes and a defeaning beeping in your ears.

Someone helped you to sit up and you slowly began to see contours of people around you, and their voices were still incomprehendable to you. You felt hands on your back and then on your face and you looked into your boyfriends face who had widened eyes and looked very pale.

Then he turned around and basically chased Lev through hell for doing this, giving him the lecture of his life even though you weren’t hurt that badly. there was a small wound at the back of your head and just a little bit of blood came out.

Kenma was by your side the whole time, flinching a lot more than you when you got a bandage around your head. You got some medication from the doctor and while you were tripping a little bit he still stayed at your side, giving you his console so you can play and distract yourself from ther pain

Literally really won’t leave your side, will stay at your house until you can go to school again and he just spends the days next to you in your bed, pouting when he sees the wound and carefully stroking your hair. He’s a big cuddler during this time and literally won’t led you near the gym anytime soon. He always gives Lev death stares when he gets near you, like a hissing cat.

A protective boy, 11/10 would love and cherish

1K notes · View notes

brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

surprises - n. mackinnon

AN: I completely forgot about this fic until @sportmodepetey asked me about writing for Nate and I remembered that I had!! So here is this, I promise it’s all fluff and softness and not my usual angst. I’m gonna tag @hockeyboysiguess too because she might yell at me for waking her up again with another fic. Also I think I promised an anon I would repost this forever ago and then I forgot sooo.. If you come back anon, here ya go!

Word Count: 5148

Warnings: Babies!!!

Your hands shook as you delicately picked up the test in your hands. Holding one end between your fingers, you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes looked heavy, filled with worry and your hair was disheveled from how anxiously you had been running your hands through it the last three minutes.

If you had to guess, you would assume that most people your age would be scared of a positive pregnancy test, but you were feeling the opposite. Your heart was racing and you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach, trying to work up the courage to see the result.

Lately, Nathan would look at the results for you. He said it was his way of protecting you from the feeling of disappointment, a sentiment you appreciated, even if every result was still negative. They all had been negative for the last year and a half, why would the next one be any different?

No one prepared you for what it would be like to have trouble getting pregnant, it was never a thought that crossed your mind. When you and Nate got married, the idea of children wasn’t even on the radar. You were both young, he was in the prime of his career, it just didn’t make any sense to start trying at 25. Now that you both were 30, and it was becoming clear just how difficult it was, you were starting to regret not trying sooner.

It was hard not to feel like you were failing your husband, but your body just wasn’t cooperating. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, the two of you had sex all the time. You tracked your ovulation schedule, tried every superstitious trick, and yet each time that familiar wave of disappointment hit you as you’d see Nate’s face falter when looking at the pregnancy test. It was especially frustrating because doctors told you that everything was normal, and sometimes it just takes time to conceive naturally.

Nate never did anything to make you feel inadequate, he was always supportive of you. Holding you while you cried, reassuring you that you were always good enough, no matter what happened. But most importantly, he never lost faith in you, he constantly reminded you that growing a human is hard work, and maybe your body is just taking extra time to prepare. He was always so calm, genuinely believing that it would happen for the two of you when it was meant to happen. That’s why he tried as often as he could to bear the burden of looking at the test for you. If he could take away any sadness you were feeling, he would.

But today, Nate wasn’t here. The Avalanche were on a week-long road trip in New York and he wasn’t due back for a couple of more days. You bit your lip, diverting your eyes away from the mirror and back down towards the white plastic stick resting in your right hand. You didn’t tell Nate, feeling like it wasn’t worth getting his hopes up only to let him down once again.

Your own hopes were high this time, something in your body just felt different. You had symptoms that you hadn’t experienced yet the other times you thought you were pregnant. You took a deep breath and finally shifted your gaze down to the test, eyeing it carefully.

Your stomach dropped seeing the word “pregnant” in the little results window of the test. You rubbed your eyes quickly and looked again, thinking maybe you were projecting your hopes and that your eyes were deceiving you. When you saw the same result, you quickly ripped open another test and went over to the toilet.

Those second three minutes were probably the most nerve wracking of your entire life. You had never had a positive pregnancy result, and after how long you had been trying it was hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of fluke or false positive.

When the three minutes were up, you hastily grabbed the test, wasting no time to look at the result. When you read the word pregnant again, you looked back up at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were glassy with fresh tears, but you looked happier than you had been a few minutes prior. You took a slight step back from the sink, placing the test onto the marble countertop and placed a hand gently on your lower stomach, slowly rubbing your fingers across your skin.

It took every bit of willpower that you had to not spill the secret to Nate when he came home that week, but you knew that with how long you had both been waiting, that you wanted to confirm with the doctor before giving him the news. The many months of disappointment had caused you to guard your heart, and you couldn’t fathom sharing the news with Nate only to have it ripped apart from the both of you if it ended up not being true.

------------

A few nights later, you were tossing and turning, finding yourself unable to sleep. You looked over at Nate, unable to sleep. His back was facing you and his breaths were deep. His flight had gotten in late, him not getting back home until around 2:30am. When he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly before slipping into bed, you had been asleep. But when he wrapped his arm around you and rested his large hand on your stomach you woke up, suddenly worried that maybe he knew you were pregnant.

This was a ridiculous thought to have, Nate didn’t even know you had taken tests while he was gone, and he always pulled you close at night, but you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety levels rise.

“I know something’s bothering you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, groggy and full of sleep. Before you spoke back, Nate turned himself to face you before running his hand over his face and up through his hair to wake himself up a bit. It was 5:47am but because it was still winter, the sky was pitch black outside.

“M’fine, baby, go back to sleep.” You tried to reason, reaching your hand up to rub his cheek, fingers gliding softly over the stubble that had grown in on his face. Nate relaxed into your touch and leaned down to press a slow kiss to your forehead before resting his head in the crook of your neck.

He peppered light kisses on your neck, humming out,

“Did something happen this week?”

“No.” You lied, using your hand to tilt his head back up, bringing your lips to his.

“Just missed you.” You added, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a complete lie, you did miss him and now that he was home kissing you, you couldn’t help but press yourself closer into him, needing to feel his touch.

Soft moans filled the room as lazily dipped in and out of you. You felt your anxieties slipping away as each moment passed. What started as a means to distract Nate also became a release for you, and you fell back asleep feeling safe and content in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the bedroom. You sat up and pulled your hair into a messy low bun before you leaned over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling yourself out of the covers and getting up. You stood up and pulled Nate’s shirt down over your body from where it had risen up earlier that morning. You subconsciously ran a hand over your abdomen, smiling to yourself before heading out the bedroom door and into the kitchen where Nate was sitting at the island, coffee cup in hand.

“Morning.” You said, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. You leaned around him to grab an apple from the fruit basket and took a bite into it. Nate turned his body slightly toward you, pulling you slightly so that you were facing him, standing between his legs.

“How was the trip?” You asked, smiling softly at him. His fingers pressed into your sides, pulling up the shirt that was draped over your body as he rubbed small, comforting circles into your hips.

“You watched all of the games.” He smirked up at you before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

“Mhm, yeah but I still like to know how your trip was.” You hummed out in between soft kisses. Nate tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss but you felt your stomach lurch. The taste of coffee on his lips made you feel nauseous all of a sudden. You felt bile rising in your throat, threatening to come out and ruin the tender moment between you and your husband.

You pulled away quickly and Nate furrowed his brow at your sudden need to separate yourself from his touch.

“You alright?” He spoke.

“I, uh, I think my period just came.” You stumbled out, averting your eyes from his as you ran into your shared bathroom. You quickly turned on the shower to drown out the sounds of emptying your stomach. Once you felt a bit better, you stood up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. You brushed your teeth and made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for as quickly as possible to 100% confirm your pregnancy. You still felt a bit nauseous, but a part of you was relieved to be feeling sick, as it was another sign that the home tests had been right. You didn’t want to keep the news from Nate for too long, just long enough to plan a special way to let him know he was going to be a dad.

-----------

You sat in the driver’s seat of your car, holding the small ultrasound photo in your hands. The doctor had confirmed what you felt to be true, you were 13 weeks pregnant. Your doctor gave you a list of prenatal vitamins to pick up on your way home. The Avalanche had a big home game that night and you were eager to be there, not only to cheer on Nate but because you knew just how you wanted to tell him.

You stood next to Aleks, glancing down at her and Nikita’s daughter Sophie. She was wearing a small Avalanche jersey, Zadorav printed in white on the back. Your heart swelled at the sight, knowing that someday soon, your own child will be wearing their own little MacKinnon jersey.

“Do you think you can get Z to help me with something? He has to keep it a secret though.” You asked Aleks, taking a sip out of your water bottle. She eyed you suspiciously, looking from you to your drink. You felt nervous under her stare, knowing that she was technically going to be the first person you told the good news to.

“You’re pregnant.” She smirked, saying it bluntly. You choked a bit on your water before looking up at her in surprise. You quickly looked down to your stomach, which was covered with a loose fitting top. Your “wag” jacket that matched the other girls around you came out to cover the sides of your hips. There was no way she could have known based on your appearance, you weren’t far enough along for there to be signs.

“You’re drinking water, you never drink that here.” She smiled. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for having a strict pregame ritual of drinking a beer during warmups. You nodded at her, not wanting to say it outloud as Nate came skating up to where the two of you were standing. Your eyes focused on your husband, who was now balancing a puck on the end of his stick. He tossed it over the glass to you, winking at you as you caught it, a tradition he started after the first game he invited you back when you had just started dating.

You looked around, spotting a young boy who looked to be around 7 or 8, dressed head to toe in Avs gear standing just a few seats over from you. You leaned over and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him and offering the puck. Nate’s tradition was to give you a puck and yours was to pay it forward and give it to a fan in the crowd. More often than not you chose to give it to a kid, knowing just how much it probably meant to them to receive something from a player that they looked up to.

The little boy eagerly nodded at you and took the puck from your hands before turning toward who you assumed to be his dad.

“Wow, what do you say to the nice woman, bud?” The man said, smiling at you in thanks.

“Thank you!” the boy exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around your leg in a quick hug before looking up at you.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, looking toward his father to get permission to hug the child back. He nodded at you, and you wrapped your arms quickly around the young boy. Nate watched the exchange from the blue line, passing a puck back and forth with Gabe. He couldn’t help but sigh in sadness. He wanted a baby so badly, and while he understood that it would happen when it was meant to, he always felt a touch of worry when he thought too hard about the what ifs. The moment passed as quickly as it came and he focussed his thoughts solely on the game ahead of him.

“So what do you need Z to do?” Your attention turned back to Aleks.

“Well I haven’t told Nate yet, I was hoping Z and the boys could help me.” You said, leaning in a bit closer to her so that the people around you couldn’t hear you. The last thing you needed was for the news to end up all over Twitter. Granted, Nate didn’t use Twitter but still.

Just as you mentioned him, Nikita came skating up to where the three of you were standing. He tapped the glass quickly in front of his daughter, before waving quickly at all of you and skating away. If there was anyone that would help, it would be him. He was so in love with his children, but also wild enough to want to participate in what you had planned.

A few days later you found yourself on a group FaceTime call with some of Nate’s teammates, laughing as they loudly spoke over each other about the plan you had come up with. You knew that you had to incorporate his teammates and hockey into the reveal, being as his team was one of the most important aspects of his life. You knew that he couldn’t wait to someday share that with his kids, bringing them to games and teaching them how to skate.

After JT and Tyson argued over whether Nate was going to cry or not, Gabe cut them off and grabbed your attention.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?” You looked at Gabe curiously, almost instantly thinking of a new task that the boys could all help you with.

“Actually I want you guys to tell us.” You spoke into the screen. This grabbed everyone’s attention.

“What can we do?” Tyson beamed at you.

“Well I have this envelope the doctor gave me, I was going to just open it with Nate but maybe you guys could come up with something to share the news with us.”

“Like a party?” Nikita jumped in. You would have felt nervous about it, but Z had done this before and you knew he wouldn’t do anything too crazy.

“Yes, you can throw a party if you want.” You smiled back at him.

--------

Nate turned his car on, blasting the heat. It was early, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was heading to the rink for an obscenely early morning skate. Gabe had mentioned that everyone needed to be at the rink by 7 that morning, some sort of last minute meeting before practice. He was annoyed but he knew better than to question his captain. He reached down to shift the car into gear when he noticed a note taped to the gear shift. He recognized your handwriting immediately, smiling to himself as he picked the small piece of paper up.

Good morning my love, Snow is still falling, but warm things are coming. If you’re wondering what the next note consists of, When you get to the rink, check your right glove.

Nate reread the note a few times, unsure of what it meant. He quickly set it onto the passenger seat, reminding himself to look inside his gloves when he got to the arena like it said.

When Nate pulled into the parking garage he immediately felt confused. So far, his car was the only one he could see. He glanced at the clock on his phone before double checking that Gabe’s message actually said 7am. It was 6:45am and no one else was there. He was normally a bit early, but never the first one to practice. He shook his head, getting out of the car and grabbing the remainder of his gear from the trunk. Maybe everyone was as tired as he was and just was running a bit behind, he thought as he walked into the practice facility.

Nate took his time changing and putting on his padding, figuring that there was no reason to rush if he was the only one there so far. The note from the car completely slipped his mind. It wasn’t until he grabbed his gloves that he remembered to check inside for something. He felt around the inside of the glove before pulling out another small piece of paper with your handwriting on it.

Congrats, you found clue number two. Although it’s probably not clear what you have to do. You’re probably wondering why everyone is late, Forget about them and head to the place where we sat on our first date.

Nate read the note once more before setting it in his stall and heading out toward the rink. He smiled at the memory of your first date. By all standards, it should have been a disaster. Looking back he isn’t quite sure how he managed to get a second date out of it. He had planned brunch for the two of you, wanting to take you to a little whole in the wall cafe in downtown Denver. Instead, the coaches decided that after their last three losses, they needed an extra conditioning practice. Rather than cancel on you, he asked if you wanted to come watch practice and have lunch afterwards. Much to his surprise you said yes.

He had a terrible practice that day, and he thought for sure that his negative attitude toward his teammates would prevent you from ever wanting to see him again. Instead, after practice, the two of you sat in the stands for two hours just talking about anything and everything while some junior hockey team practiced in the background. You didn’t even express annoyance when some of the players came up to him to say hello after their practice, instead you smiled and listened as he interacted with the younger players.

He left the locker room and headed over to the bench where the two of you sat all of those years ago, he knew exactly where it was that you were sitting. Remembering the dark green sweater you had worn that day, and the scarf you had around your neck to keep warm while he practiced.

When he walked up toward the bench he saw another small note taped to it. He picked it up and opened it.

Welcome to clue number three, This one marks you being halfway done, but I’m just starting the fun. If you search through the practice pucks, you just might find the next one.

Nate was beginning to wonder what this whole scavenger hunt was leading to. You were not the type of person to be able to keep secrets when it came to surprises. If anyone was going to spill about a surprise, it would be you. You always said that you just got too excited to share whatever it was with whoever the person was that you couldn’t be trusted to keep any exciting secrets. He was curious as to how you managed to pull off some sort of prize for him.

Nate set his sticks and gloves down on the players bench and walked into the equipment area to grab the bag of practice pucks. He dumped the bag out and the pucks started sliding haphazardly across the ice. He knew it would be faster than trying to dig through the bag.

His eyes scanned the pucks, looking for a few moments before spotting one with paper sticking out underneath it. He stepped out onto the ice and skated over to where the puck was. He leaned down to pick it up, carefully taking the note off of the puck before skating back over to the boards to lean against them while reading the new clue.

Sorry you had to make that mess, but I promise it’ll be for the best. Don't forget to put the pucks away and then head back to where you always begin game day.

Nate slowly gathered his mess on the ice, stacking the pucks up then sliding them into the bags, before stepping off the ice and heading back toward the dressing room.

When Nate got back to his stall he was confused to see a small gift bag sitting on top of the bench. He looked quickly around the locker room to see if any of the other guys had shown up. It was definitely past time that Gabe said everyone had to be here, yet even Gabe himself hadn’t yet arrived for practice. He picked up the small grey bag and sat down on the bench.

He slowly pulled out the white and gold tissue paper that was stuffed in the top of the bag, setting it down next to him. He reached his hand down into the bag, instantly feeling something extremely soft on his fingers. He lifted the item out and furrowed his brows in confusion at it. He was holding a small stuffed animal version of Bernie, the Avalanche team mascot. He figured maybe the bag was meant for another teammate who had kids.

As Nate was putting the mini Bernie back in the bag, he noticed the back of Bernie’s jersey was different. Instead of “Bernie” printed in white, it said “MacKinnon” and just underneath the name was 29. He knew there must be another clue somewhere and he began to look around his stall for any piece of paper that might have come from you.

He spotted something next to his name plaque, and sure enough it was another folded up note from you.

Now that you’ve revealed all I had to hide, pack up your gear and head where you park your ride.

Nate shook his head, but obliged by what the note said, packing his gear back up quickly so that he could head back to what he hoped was the reveal of whatever grand scheme you were planning.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out to the parking garage and saw you leaning up against his car. You beamed up at him, pulling yourself away from the car and walking toward him.

There were butterflies in your stomach, not only were you about to share with your husband the news, you also were able to share that you knew the sex of the baby.

“Not that I didn’t love this little adventure, but what’s going on?”

“Well, Nate, I think you have to read your last clue.” You smiled, reaching into your back pocket and handing him the envelope. This was it, you thought. Nate was going to know in a matter of seconds, and you could barely contain the smile on your face.

Nate set his equipment bag down next to the car and then gently took the envelope out of your hand. You watched in suspense as he carefully opened it, pulling out the note and sonogram inside.

“Read it outloud.” You encouraged, giving him another wide smile.

“Congratulations the riddles are coming to an end, just know that you’ll have a lot of messages to send. Enjoy the next few months of us on standby, because baby MacKinnon will be making their debut this July.” Nate’s voice cracked at the end of the clue, he slid the small paper over and looked at the ultrasound now in his hand. His eyes welled up with tears and he quickly looked back up at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke quietly, unsure of if this was all real or some horrible joke you were in on with the team. He didn’t think you would mess around with something this serious, but he also couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

Your eyes were also glossing over with tears, feeling an unprecedented amount of joy. You nodded quickly at your husband, taking another step towards him.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again, this time with more conviction.

“Yes, Nate. We’re having a baby.” You cried happily, wiping a couple of tears that had begun to cascade down your own cheeks. Nate wasted no time grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t believe this, we’re really having a baby?” He asked one more time, pulling the two of you apart just enough to press one hand flush against your stomach. You nodded in response and leaned up to kiss him.

“Wait there’s another surprise.” You smiled, pecking him on the lips one more time before gesturing to his car.

“I’m not sure anything can top this one.” He replied, quickly looking around for your car before adding,

“Wait how did you get here?”

“Aleks dropped me off, I wanted to be able to drive home with you.” You answered nonchalantly, making a move to open up the passenger side of the car.

The ride home was quiet, Nate drove carefully, with one hand rubbing softly against your thigh. You watched the snow covered buildings pass by you as he continued down the route back to your home.

You were nervous as he pulled onto the street that you lived on, immediately recognizing some of the cars parked sporadically near the house. Nate looked around as he slowly pulled into the driveway.

“Why does it look like the team decided to have practice at the house?” He smirked at you, knowing there obviously was something going on.

“I don’t know, let’s go find out.” You teased, knowing fully why they were all there. You didn’t know what their plan was, but you did hand over your keys that morning to Aleks after she dropped you off, heading back to help the boys with the surprise.

When you walked into your house, you couldn’t believe all of the work the team had managed to pull off in the short amount of time that you’d been gone. There were pastel streamers and balloons draped carefully around the living and dining room. The dining table had an arrangement of fruits and breakfast type pastries for everyone. And out back you could see a set up of a goal covered in white balloons. You jokingly wondered which one of them logged onto Pinterest to get all of these ideas.

Nate looked around in awe. He felt like he was in a dream, one that he was desperate to not wake up from. The two of you had been trying for so long that he hadn’t really allowed himself to think of what it would feel like to have it happen. Having his team there to take part in the celebrations was an added bonus.

“Nate dogg, come outside you need to shoot some pucks.” Gabe slapped a hand on your husband’s back, nodding toward the net that was set up out back.

“Wait, do you know what we’re having?” He quickly turned to you, setting his cup of coffee down on the table near where you were standing. You shook your head slightly, motioning toward the rest of his teammates that were all starting to head out to the backyard.

“No, this is all them.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

Nate stepped up toward the goal, grabbing his stick from EJ, who was dressed up in the most embarrassing outfit anyone could have imagined. He stood tall, wearing a bonnet over his head and what appeared to be a giant diaper costume that you’d probably find in the clearance section at a Halloween store because it was so ugly.

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Nate shook his head at his teammate.

“I lost a bet to Graves.” He rolled his eyes, glancing over at Ryan and shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, shoot the damn puck.” He added, pushing Nate slightly toward the goal.

Nate fired back a shot, instantly breaking a couple of balloons, silver confetti flying everywhere. He realized quickly that he needed to start shooting to pop all of the balloons, shaking his head at his teammates' knock off best shooter competition idea.

When the puck went flying into the last balloon, pink and purple confetti started flying everywhere. Nate felt like he was moving in slow motion, dropping the stick and running to grab you. He could hear the cheers from everyone around him but all that mattered was you.

He picked you up, twirling you around quickly before gently setting you down. You reached your hand up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, smiling widely knowing that you were having a baby girl. You always knew Nate wanted a girl, believing he would be the best “girl dad” so you knew this moment was extra special for him.

The two of you stood close for a few moments, ignoring the commotion happening around you and savouring the moment.

“You owe me $50, I told you he would cry.” Tyson argued with JT

“I single tear doesn’t count, idiot.” JT shot back.

You laughed at the two boys, leaning your head into Nate’s chest and looking at the scene around you. It may have taken a long time to get here, but you couldn’t be more excited for the family you were creating, knowing that your baby girl was going to be loved by so many.

#bye i love that gif #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic #avs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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laurenmm62017 · 3 years

Text

Codywan Week Day 2~

The prompt I chose was AU.

I've been meaning to write an Aikido AU at some point in my writing career, and it's finally time!

Aikido (合気道) is a traditional Japanese martial primarily focused on protecting yourself as well as your opponent. It is defensive, non-competitive, and focuses a lot more on spirituality, depending on your dojo (school).

Something about the way both Aikido and Soresu are both defensive really sits right with me lol

I've done aikido for 13 years and recently received my 3rd degree black belt certification (sandan 参段), so this AU really means a lot to me and truly hope you enjoy it! If you have any questions, feel free to DM me or whatever~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32849761

@codywanweek

Summary: Obi-wan loved practicing aikido. Something about the way that he is able to subdue opponents much larger while also being able to protect that person from harm was very attractive to him. While training with visitors from New Zealand, he meets one of the most interesting and attractive people he has ever met.

Obi-wan took a deep breath in, extending his energy from his fingers reaching up down his arms, to his center, then exhaled and brought his hands down his body to his toes. He repeated this motion three times along with the rest of the class.

“Alright, class, line up!” The lead instructor, Mace Windu, called out.

The younger and less experienced students lined up in the back, while the higher ranked students, like 4th black belt Obi-wan, lined up at the front. Everyone settled into a kneeling position, and looked forward to the picture of O-Sensei, founder of their martial art, then bowed to Mace.

“I have a small announcement before we close class. Next class, we will be having a few aikido practitioners from New Zealand to practice with us. They are from a dojo that practices a different style, and may do certain techniques differently than we do, so please pay attention to what they do, and be careful when you train with them. Sometimes they have… a more aggressive approach. But, just remember that your style of aikido is different from theirs as well. This will help you both learn communication and cooperation. Any questions?”

No one raised their hand, so Mace dismissed class. Obi-wan led the closing bows and then allowed the children to exit the mat while those wearing hakama began to take them off, while others began to clean up the dojo around them. One of the younger students, Zatt, ran over to him and began asking him the usual round of questions.

“Who are the new students, do you think Obi-wan?”

“I have no idea, Zatt. We will find out on Friday, hm?”

“But that’s two days away! How long do you think they will be here?”

“Well, most people stay to practice for at least a few classes, so I would say we will see them at least a few more times.”

“Wizard! What do you think they’ll be like?”

“I haven’t the faintest, my dear. Hopefully there will be someone your age to practice with.”

Obi-wan smiled as Zatt jumped up and down in excitement, then ran off to get changed and go home.

“Obi-wan.” Mace called from his office near the back of the dojo. Obi-wan finished folding his hakama, then entered Mace’s office and closed the sliding door.

“Yes, Sensei?”

“The sensei of the group that is coming is a very close friend of my master, but I’ll be a bit busy while they are here, so if you are able to, I’d like for you to take them around the city the day after practice.”

“Of course, Mace. It’s the weekend, so I won’t have anything scheduled.”

“I appreciate it, Obi-wan. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Have a good night, Mace.”

The next lesson, Obi-wan arrived 20 minutes early to the dojo, hoping to get to know the visiting practitioners before actually practicing with them.

After he bowed at the entrance of the dojo, he straightened up and spotted two of the visitors. They were already dressed in their gi and hakama, warming up a little bit near the edge of the practice mat. They were both fairly tall, had short black hair, and sharp features. As soon as he entered the dojo, they paused and stood up straight.

“Hello there! You must be part of the visiting dojo!”

“Yeah, that’s right!” They seemed a little nervous?

“Pleasure to meet you! I’m Obi-wan Kenobi, part-time instructor here at the dojo.” He introduced himself and gave a short bow.

“I’m Wyatt Fett, and this is my twin, Baron. Our dad and older brothers are talking with Windu-Sensei right now. We’re, ah, just warming up before class. They take care of the “ambassadoring”, we’re just here to practice aikido.” Wyatt grinned and they both gave short bows to him.

“Understandable. I’ll speak with Mace in a bit. It was nice to meet you two. I’ll be right back.” Obi-wan bowed, and then walked over towards the changing rooms, listening to the two of them bicker. Something about being a type?

He placed his duffel bag on one of the higher shelves to leave room for the children. Just as he turned his phone to silent, the men’s bathroom door banged open, making him jump and almost drop his phone. He whipped around to see who made such a racket, but he only caught the sight of his back and a green belt around his waist.

“Hm… must be one of the visiting students. The teacher’s son?” He thought, before checking his phone one last time.

He finished up and exited the changing rooms to join Mace with the visiting teacher, a stern, older looking man, and two younger men. The older man was slightly taller than Obi-wan, still in street clothes. His face was stern, but he had smile lines around his eyes that softened his face, and dark hair with a few white hairs barely visible.

The younger looking of the boys… men? Had blonde hair, a little bit of baby fat stubbornly clinging to his cheeks, and was already dressed in his gi and hakama.

However, Obi-wan’s eyes were drawn to the older looking one. His hair was longer on top than the sides, pulled back in a small ponytail. His face was sharp, but somehow kind, and he had a wicked scar that curled around his left eye, and bright gold eyes that he shared with the other two men. But this man’s eyes seemed to bore right into his soul, making him a bit flustered.

“Ah, Obi-wan. Good to see you. I’d like you to meet Jango Fett, head instructor of the Aikido of New Zealand, Auckland branch, along with his assistant instructors, and his eldest sons.”

“I’m Cody, and this is my younger brother, Rex.” The slightly taller one, Cody, gave a short bow and a sheepish smile.

“We’ll be in your care during our trip. I hear you’ll be showing us around tomorrow?” Jango asked.

“Yes, that’s right. After class, could we all exchange numbers and arrange a time and place to meet?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Jango glanced at the clock and his eyes widened. “We should get ready for class.”

“Of course. Right this way.” Mace escorted Jango towards the changing rooms, leaving Obi-wan with Rex and Cody.

“So, have you gentlemen gotten used to the time difference yet?” Nice, Kenobi, thrilling conversation.

“We’ve only been here about a day so far? We don’t actually travel outside of New Zealand often, still getting used to waking up in the past.” Cody joked, making all three of them laugh.

“I can imagine. Well, I hope you will gain a bit of energy in the ten minutes we have before class starts.” Obi-wan smiled, and exited the office, onto a much more crowded mat than it was five minutes ago.

“Obi-wan! Obi-wan! I made a new friend!” Zatt shouted gleefully, dragging the young boy that he saw in the changing room behind him. “This is Boba! He’s from New Zealand!”

Obi-wan looked down at Boba who looked away from him and pouted.

“Hello, Boba. Welcome to our dojo. I hope you have fun with Zatt and the other students today.”

“Thanks.” Boba mumbled and then promptly pulled away to be introduced to others at their dojo.

Cody came up next to him with his hands on his hips. “I’m glad Boba is making friends.”

“Yes, the children have been very excited to meet you all.” Obi-wan chuckled.

“And you?”

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow, and turned to look at Cody, who simply smiled and waited for a reply.

“We’ll, I’m certainly looking forward to it.”

Mace opened their class with an introduction of their visitors and then moved onto warm up exercises. Obi-wan tried his best to pay attention, but he has done these exercises a thousand times and he was easily distracted today.

Like most men, Cody didn’t wear a shirt under his gi, so every so often, Obi-wan caught a glimpse of what was underneath.

On accident! Obviously.

Warmups ended and they all paired up for the rest of the class.

“If one person from our dojo and one person from New Zealand can practice together, please do that. If not, try to partner with someone close to your height.” Mace called out to the class.

Obi-wan glanced around and immediately spotted Cody glancing at. He smiled and walked over to him.

“Care to practice together? I’ll have to help out with demonstrating with Mace, but I’d love to practice with you.” Obi-wan smiled, and bowed his head, which Cody eagerly returned.

Practicing with Cody was exhilarating. They matched speeds perfectly, every attack and deflection was completely in sync. The rest of the dojo fell away and focused solely on the two of them and their space. The feeling of Cody’s hands and body on his wrists, his neck, holding him down, during pinning techniques was the best feeling he’s felt in a long time. Every time he executed a technique against Cody, he literally flew through the air and hit the mat with a thud that echoed through his entire body. And whenever it was Cody's turn, Obi-wan’s skin burned wherever he made contact; he felt like he could see an outline of his hands on himself, but maybe he was just tired. He never wanted this class to end.

Of course, right as he was thinking that, Mace clapped his hands twice and called out, “Line up!”

Cody and Obi-wan reluctantly bowed to each other, then separated. Obi-wan went to the front of the mat, and Cody went to line up with the rest of his dojo.

“I want to thank our visitors for practicing with us. They will hopefully be able to attend a couple more classes next week, but in the meantime, everyone please thank them for joining us.”

“ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU!!” All of the children screamed, and the adults of the class followed it with a more calm version.

Class ended and various students began shuffling off the mat to grab a variety of cleaning supplies to tidy up the dojo. Obi-wan grabbed a rag and began to clean the shomen, where O-Sensei’s picture hung. Their guests from New Zealand tried to grab things to help, but were told off by the children that they were guests and “It’s our responsibility!”

Obi-wan snickered and smiled at Cody, who shrugged helplessly and began taking off his hakama alongside his brothers and began to get ready to leave.

Once the dojo was clean, Obi-wan finally took off his own hakama and gathered his belongings.

Cody and Rex were waiting right outside the dojo for him.

“Excited for tomorrow, gentlemen?” Obi-wan asked.

“Yes, very much so.” Cody smiled, pulling out his phone.

The three of them exchanged numbers with Obi-wan promising to meet them in front of the dojo at 9am the next morning.

“Tomorrow will be a great day, I’m sure of it.” Rex butted in and patted Cody on the back.

“Excellent! I will see you all tomorrow, then.” Obi-wan smiled.

A good day, indeed.

#codywanweek2021 #codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #Day 2 AU #aikido

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null-whump · 3 years

Text

Whumptober 2021

Day 2 - Alt. Prompt #3 - Caning

Ohhhhh boy this one is a bit late. I kept getting distracted while writing it and now it's 1:30 in the morning. It's still October 2nd somewhere, right? Anyway I did enjoy writing this so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! It's a follow-up from day 1! because I love Darion :))

I'm writing for Felix soon I promise

Warnings: Caning/beating (obviously), implied slavery

Word Count: 1,340

Alt. Prompt #3 – Caning

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It had been three weeks since Darion first woke up as Igneous’ captive, and they weren’t any closer to escaping. Just the opposite, in fact – their situation was even more hopeless than before – which they were reminded of every time they remembered the bronze metal bands that circled their neck and upper right arm.

Igneous had installed them on the second day, and Darion had fought against it, or tried to, but they were chained down and there was nothing they could do, and by the Stars, they had never felt so helpless.

The collar – the slave collar – was enchanted. A powerful spell that bound Darion’s life force to Igneous, meaning that Igneous could kill them with little more than a thought. It also meant that Darion couldn’t kill Igneous without killing themselves. In short, they were trapped until they could get the damn thing off. The armband wasn’t anything special. It marked them as a ‘dangerous’ slave; someone to be watched closely and not allowed near weapons. From what Igneous had told them, they suspected that all of his slaves wore it.

So, yes, they were trapped. But that didn’t mean they were going to be cooperative.

The door to their cell creaked and swung open as Igneous entered and walked toward them. Darion didn’t move from where they were sitting against the far wall. They were tired, their entire body ached and throbbed from three weeks of what Igneous called ‘training’ and they just wanted to rest.

“Get up.”

Darion clenched their jaw and stared at the floor. They heard Igneous’ short staff whistle through the air and flinched back, but it didn’t hit them – instead the wooden stick stopped a hair’s breadth from the side of their head.

“You’re not going to accomplish anything if you make this hurt more than it’s already going to,” Igneous said calmly. “Get up.”

Darion hesitated, then slowly pushed themselves up, first to their knees, then to their feet. The chains on their arms and ankles rattled with the movement. They swallowed hard, fighting back the wave of nausea brought by the pain radiating through their body. Igneous’ staff rested atop their bare shoulder.

“Good.” The staff moved away. “Are you ready to follow orders now?”

“Fuck you,” Darion snapped, but the anger in their voice sounded forced even to their own ears.

Igneous gave a hmm of disapproval. “Not quite there yet, I see.” He brought his staff up and smacked into the palm of his left hand. Darion barely held back a flinch at the movement. “Well, you know how to end this, if your pride will allow it.”

That was all the warning he gave before he swung the weapon against Darion’s side. They stumbled, not prepared to take the blow, but righted themselves quickly. Their chains scraped and clinked against each other. The next stroke landed across their back, then again on their side, then their arms – the gaps between each strike were unpredictably timed, just enough that Darion could never know exactly when the next one would hit.

An especially hard blow fell against the back of their legs, and they nearly fell, only just catching themselves before they landed on their knees. They barely had time to straighten up again before a blow across their shoulders made them double over again. They never allowed themselves to let out more than a gasp of pain at the hardest blows because they couldn’t bear the thought of being reduced to screams and tears at the easiest part of the pain.

Another strike, a stumble, a breath, a pause – a hit against their arm, and they bit their lip to keep quiet, almost forgetting to breathe in the space before the next – crack, and they felt blood trickling down their back as their skin split from the blows, then again – crack in nearly the same spot, and they stumbled hard, tears burning in the back of their eyes, before the next blow sent them to their knees.

They barely had time to think ‘fuck’ before the staff was raining down blows without pause, because that’s what happened when they fell, when they couldn’t even fucking stand up properly. They pulled their shaking arms over their head as the stick struck them again and again and again and again – at some point, their cries began to choke off into sobs, until finally, the pain stopped coming.

They tried to stifle their whimpers as they curled further in on themselves on the ground. The end of the staff slammed into the ground next to their head.

“Get up.” Igneous didn’t even sound winded.

Slowly, carefully, Darion moved their arms away from their head and tried desperately to gain control of their breathing as they pushed themselves up. Their chains dragged against the floor with every movement and pulled against their aching limbs. The weight dragged them down, and they had to fight not to give in and collapse on the floor. Their body screamed in protest, and another sob escaped them as they maneuvered their battered legs underneath them so that they could stand.

By the time they made it onto their feet they were trembling from head to foot, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to stand for long.

“Good,” Igneous said.

They steeled themselves for the next blow, and then the next, until their vision blurred, and their legs gave out and they were on the ground again, curling in on themselves against the horrible barrage of pain on top of pain on top of pain – until it stopped again, and they were allowed to breathe, in shuddering gasps that sent tremors through their body.

“Get up.”

Darion could barely hear him over the ringing in their ears. The staff struck their back again and their cry was more of a whine, their abused throat unable to manage anything more.

“Get up,” Igneous repeated, his voice as calm as ever.

Darion tasted blood in their mouth. “Please,” they whispered, their voice breaking. “I – I can’t –” they cut themselves off, unable to continue.

“Alright then,” Igneous said. “Stay there, if you wish.”

He raised the staff, and Darion could only shudder and wait for the blows to come again. They could barely think past the pain, could barely manage to scream or even to breathe in between blows.

When it stopped, Stars, they thought they might do anything for the agony to end. Igneous was talking but they couldn’t make out what he was saying until the staff slammed against the ground, and they knew they couldn’t take any more –

“Please,” they gasped. “Please, s-stop –”

“You know how to make this stop,” Igneous said.

The cane slammed into their back and they couldn’t breathe –

Darion sobbed, because they were in so much fucking pain, but they couldn’t give in, they couldn’t –

Igneous raised the staff, and Darion broke.

“No, wait –” they choked down their pride and forced the words out. “Please, please – m-master,” they whimpered.

Igneous was silent above them for several seconds.

“Say it again,” he said softly.

Darion closed their eyes and fought back a flood of humiliation. “Please…master.”

Igneous laughed lightly. “There you are,” he said, satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Isn’t that better, mutt?”

Shame clawed its way through Darion’s chest and held back any response they could have given. They didn’t move from their position at Igneous’ feet, shaking with pain and anger and fear and the degradation of it all.

“We made good progress today,” Igneous said. “I only hope that you won’t have forgotten it all by tomorrow.”

Darion didn’t register when Igneous left the room, they only heard when the door shut with a clang that rang in their ears for what seemed like an eternity. They didn’t bother trying to move when they were alone. They shut their eyes tighter and tried to promise themselves that they would be stronger when tomorrow came, even though they knew that it was a lie.

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Tag list! Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed, or if I missed your name by accident :)

@starnight-whump @chifechi

#whumptober2021 #altno.3 #caning #OC #fic #beating #injured #implied slavery #slavery mention #whump #nonhuman whumpee #slave whump #my ocs: darion #my ocs: igneous

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hanii-rose · 3 years

Text

•Hello again, I’m the anon who requested gender neutral s/o! Thank you so much for writing such beautifully-written story between Garou and them. I’ve ended up loving it very much it was very good read, aww big kudos for you! ❤❤

And for the next request, as the fandom still hyped about part-timer Garou, how about of the continuation of the previous story:

The s/o has a stable job already, right? And Garou realized that currently being a freeloader in s/o’s house makes him a bit guilty. So he decided to lessen the s/o’s burden by taking a part-time job.

The s/o actually don’t mind of Garou being a freeloader, but seeing Garou becomes so determinated about it the s/o can’t help but feel very proud and happy for him.

Lots of fluffy moments after both of them finished working, like cooking a simple dinner together at home, resting their tired bodies on the couch while cuddling lovingly, Garou and the s/o sharing a lot of soft kisses during it while the s/o praising Garou’s hardworking, etc.

And as it’s the continuation of “Reunited’, of course the s/o is still a gender neutral.

Thank you so much and have nice days! 💖•

I’m so happy that I finally got to this one. There were a few requests before it so I had to complete those and I also had to write for the story on AO3 (-_-;) Sorry if I made you wait too long hehe I’m glad you enjoyed the first one tho

_________________________________________

Reunited Part 2

Garou x GenderNeutral!Reader

You stepped through your door after returning from your 9-5 job. Your muscles and joints ached and you stretched your body in an effort to wake yourself up, the plastic bag full of groceries crinkling with every move.

"I’m home…” you softly called, unable to produce a louder noise.

You took your work shoes off along with your coat and scarf, discarding them carelessly by the door, too tired to put them away.

You heard footsteps approaching and smiled when the Garou came towards you. You walked up to him and fell into his arms. Loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you spoke softly.

“I am so tired today. I can’t even walk straight…”

He quirked a brow. His arms slithered around your waist and he picked you up, taking the bag of groceries from you and putting it on the kitchen counter on the way the bathroom down the hall.

“Another rough day, huh?”

Garou questioned softly and you nodded yawning.

“You have no idea…”

Garou set you down onto the stable counter of your bathroom and helped you out of your office pants, sliding then down your legs. You were left in your white shirt and socks.

Garou left after fixing you a warm bath. Undressing completely, you sat yourself down in your tub, the water temperature hot enough to soothe the undeniable ache in your bones from such a hard day of deskwork.

After washing yourself and sitting in the relaxing steam for an hour, you opted to get up and leave. Garou brought you your pajamas and you slipped them on, stretching and walking out of the tiled room with a towel in your hands.

“Ya finally done…?”

Garou asked deeply, sitting on the black couch of your apartment. You sighed and plopped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers came up to massage your sides and you leaned in closer, the two of you now laying on the couch, Garou’s head on the armrest and your body on top of his.

“Mm, this feels good…” you said, slightly drowsy.

“Yeah.”

The two of you laid in silence, the only sound coming from the T.V. opposite from the couch. Garou turned the volume down, setting the mood perfectly. His hands circled your waist, exclusively close to your derrière. His hot breath fanned your ear and you found yourself nuzzling into him even more.

Your eyes slowly shut themselves and you curled up into a comfortable position. Oh boy, this felt so…cozy.

“C'mon, why are you fallin’ asleep on me?”

Garou’s voice rang out and you instantly awoke from your drowsy state.

“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just very sleepy today.”

“Too much work these days…”

You leaned towards his cheek, connecting your lips with it. And with that you wearily stood up and spoke, “I’m just gonna go take a nap. Too tired to function…”

Garou nodded, reluctantly, and let you go. He watched you tiredly carry yourself to your bedroom and fall flat on top of the mattress, immediately falling asleep.

Garou sighed to himself and leaned back onto the armrest of the couch. This had been going on for a number of days. You come home from work, he bathes you and takes care of you, he tries to fuck you and love you but you blow him off for sleep.

It was starting to get infuriating. But why was this happening to you? Things weren’t like this the first month he was here…

In fact, a lot of things had changed since the end of the month. Your fridge used to be stacked with food, you used to have a lot more things around and most importantly, you were livelier.

It was like he turned everything around for you….

Oh, shit.

He did, didn’t he? Fuck!

You were only so tired because you worked harder to support the two of you, you bought the groceries all by yourself, you cooked for him, man he was just taking and taking.

Garou exhaled harshly on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated manner. He’s such an idiot…

Ok ok, think. What do you do when someone lets you freeload in their house, eat their food, lie around all day and be the laziest bum you can be?

Oh, that’s right! You get a job.

He’s made up his mind. He is going to get a job, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna tell you that. He doesn’t need you gushing over how sweet and cute he is, not wanting to re-experience the time you teased him for trying to make a pancake. He just wanted to be nice without being called a sweetheart, c'mon!

Now, back to the matter at hand. What job can he actually get that doesn’t require any form of experience or education?

You grab a packet of sweetener from the coffee drawer, tearing open the little paper on top and pouring it into the foam cup that held your recently brewed coffee. You silently stirred with the swizzle stick, observing the boring people of your office from the small break room you stood in.

Leaning against the white counter, you sipped the hot substance and sighed in contentment when it travelled down your throat. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and leisurely scrolled through the recent news articles which lined the screen, stopping to read anything important.

And so you spent the next 10 minutes of your 20 minute break just dawdling around on your phone. You threw away the small cup of coffee that had become too cold and bitter for your liking and trekked back to your office, pushing open the pristine glass doors.

Putting your phone away back into your pocket, you took a seat in your office chair, booting up your computer to get back to making spreadsheets and going over the accounts drafted for last month.

You sighed in boredom, correcting some errors made by your ex-deskmates. It feels so good to have your own office, feels so good to get away from those vermin and feels so good being their boss. Yep, getting a promotion was the best. The only down side was that you had way more work now, your underlings tend to make too many mistakes when it comes to balance sheets. You hadn’t told Garou the news yet, you wanted to do it over a cute dinner. It would be way more impactful that way.

Ah, Garou. He always made you feel better after a long day. Just seeing his cute big head relieved you of all the stress that you carried home. Not to mention the amazing feeling of his unexpectedly soft hair between your fingers as you tug and weave or the overwhelming feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close and holding your sore body. The touch of his warm mouth on your lips, kissing and worshipping it, invading every intimate part of your form. And the way his tongue felt on your

DING!

Oh, an email from your boss? What’s this about? The she-devil up there never emailed her employees for anything good…

Subject: Executive meeting

Dear D-Wing Employee,

Good Morning. Our company, as you are aware, will be merging with a larger firm, hopefully bringing us larger and more profitable trades.

It has been brought to my attention that many of our business partners and executive directors will be hosting a meeting in the D-Wing of our establishment. It would be most appreciated if all of our D-Wing employees would be willing to postpone their work for a day to enable our higher ups and VIPs to perform the necessary actions in completing this fortunate exchange between two efficient companies, striving to bring better service to the people.

The delay of work shall last from today 10:00 A.M. to tomorrow 12:00 P.M. Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any concerns about this matter, please submit a written letter to the E-Wing, describing your issues.

Best Regards,

Senior Director, Akari Hina

Woah, so you’re basically getting the rest of the day off? And no work at all tomorrow? Hm, maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.

Packing up and grabbing your coat, you turned off your computer and headed straight for the door, running past all of the other D-Wing employees readying themselves to leave.

Garou sat in the office of a delivery firm, arms crossed and leg bouncing up and down, antsy. He eyed the man in front of him, clad in a suit and tie and looking through the 5 minute resume that Garou printed up.

“So, you’re an expert in ‘being strong’ and 'being cool’. You don’t have much experience, you’re only 18 and you created this resume by yourself?”

Garou nodded, fiddling with the edge of the gray scarf you had gifted him. Ah, another reason to get a job, give you a gift.

“So, did you pass highschool or…? Sorry, I’m confused.”

The man took off his glasses, wiping it with a little cloth that was left on his desk, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, I left after my third year…”

Garou confirmed, and the man put his glasses back on, and intertwined his fingers on the desk between them.

“That’s good enough. It’ll do. Which department are you looking to work in? We have filing, storage, delivery and cleaning. But you look like a strong kid, storage would be perfect for you.”

Garou thought for a moment, face twisting in confusion. Filing…ugh reading. Storage, hmm not bad. Delivery isn’t hard. He refuses to clean after the slobs here.

“I’m up for anything that has heavy work, no reading or cleaning, thanks.”

He curtly informed his soon to be boss. The suited man huffed and opened up his desk drawer for a notepad.

“Sign these and we’ll get you started. Deliveries should be fine, no?”

Garou picked up a pen and signed away, paper after paper. Who knew FedEx had so many policies?

After providing enough details on the notepad and filling up all of the consent forms, Garou stood up, pushing his chair back slightly. He went to turn the knob of the little office door but was halted by the voice of the man, or should he say, his new boss.

“I’ll have my assistant bring you your uniform, also get rid of the hair. It won’t fit in the hat…”

Garou turned the knob exiting the office and strode out into the garage. A small man walked up to him with a transparent bag of clothes, hiding his face behind it. The only thing he could completely discern about the boy was his name written on the tag near his breast pocket, Ibiki.

“Here is your uniform. When you come back tomorrow, we’ll make a name tag for you.”

The cheery, blushing boy spoke, informing Garou of what he needs to do next. Taking the packet from his hands, Garou asked for a bag to put his new clothes in.

Ibiki scurried off to find a bag and retrieved an empty white one, filling it with the plastic packet.

“Thanks.”

Garou was about to walk out when he heard the kid call out to him.

“Hey Mister! You forgot to take our card. You’ll need the bosses number. See, right here. And this one’s mine!”

Ibiki pointed out the two separate cell numbers and Garou nodded. Ibiki placed a shaky hand on Garou’s shoulder and patted the spot, saying something along the lines of 'you’ll love working with us!’. Whatever, he doesn’t care, all he wanted to do was make your life a little bit easier.

You had arrived home an hour ago, Garou nowhere in sight. You decided to shower and read a book while you waited for him to come home. You had already purchased lunch for the two of you on your way back, deciding that the contents in your fridge weren’t good enough to work with.

After Garou had shown up, things had turned for the better. It seemed like he brought you good luck wherever you went. You could recall the time when Garou wasn’t with you, and frankly, they weren’t the best. He made your life a lot more interesting than what it was before.

Standing up and stretching, you trailed towards your bedroom with your book in hand, opting to lay down comfortably and read. An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of Garou. But you had forgotten all about that. You munched on some chips in bed, flipping through the pages of your book, so immersed in it that your ears hadn’t caught the sound of your front door opening.

Garou walked into your shared home, taking off the jacket and scarf and hanging it behind the door. The bag which held his new uniform was hung in the wall closet in the living room. He washed himself up and looked around, expecting you to not be here as usual, but something caught his eye. Your work shoes! Weren’t you wearing these today?

Wait were you home…?

He looked around the house, checking each each and every room when he finally decided to check your bedroom.

Opening the door, he waltzed in, his eyes perceived you on your bed, laying on your stomach with your eyes glued to the book in your hand, potato chip hanging from your lips.

You still hadn’t noticed him in the room and he fully took advantage of that. Creeping around the edge of the bed, he stopped momentarily behind you. He licked his lips at the sight of your butt, clad in tight, black trousers. Without warning, he jumped onto you, his hips landing right on top of your ample behind, rough, trained hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You yelped in surprise, book flying across the bed as you jumped, or tried to, out of the way.

“W-where did you come from?!”

Your face twisted in annoyance as you asked.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing home?”

Garou laid himself on top of you, his sharp chin resting on your head and fingers tightly grasping the mattress under you.

“I have the whole day off today! Now, will you please get off?”

Garou chuckled in excitement at your words, arms coming around to flip you over onto his chest as he turned himself over on his back.

“Never.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, relaxing down onto him.

“So, where were you this fine morning?”

Your question had not been answered for several seconds and you asked him again.

“Garou, where did you go?”

You turned around, still obove him, your chest to his. You gave him a questioning look, gesturing him to speak.

“Out.”

You quirked a brow, expression unamused.

“I know that!”

He sat up and hugged you, his sharp nose buried between you shoulder and neck, kissing the skin.

“With a friend.”

Garou said, eyes coming up to look at you, waiting for a response.

“Oh really? You have friends?”

He nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Ok then, he was being weird… But you didn’t want to pry. What he does while he’s out is his business, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Its not like he’s cheating on you or anything, no, he would never do that, he’s not that kind of man.

HE’S THAT KIND OF MAN!

How could he? I-, You- How?! You were just coming home early from work. Turns out your new position didn’t require you to stay for long hours like before, so you just opted to come home. You had to take the long way around this time, passing by all of the urban workshops and postal firms because your normal road was being repaired. You passed by a FedEx warehouse and you could’ve sworn you saw silver hair and a gorgeous body, belonging to none other than Garou.

That was him for sure! Oh, when you get your hands on him…

You stomped your foot in anger at the scene unfolding before you. Garou, undressing in the wide open garage, taking off the clothes you had bought for him, to put on some drab brown and black shirt and pants. A small man hanging off from his shoulder as Garou walked to the desk to…collect something? What is that…?

The fragile looking boy next to him stopped in front of his chest and took what seemed to be a small card and clipped it to the front of Garou’s shirt. He beamed at Garou and your boyfriend turned to pick up the boxes that were strewn around the warehouse and pack them into individual trucks.

Wait a second. Was he working? Garou was working! Ohhh, of course! Yeah, you never doubted him for a second…

You strolled towards them, unknown to the two inside the dark garage, hiding behind the tall stack of boxes. Playfully walking up behind him, the small man gently tapped Garou on the shoulder. He turned around, large boxes still in hand, obscuring his vision.

“What do ya’ want now, Ibiki?!”

Garou’s sudden outburst scared the young man accompanying him, making him jump back frightened.

“The uh… b-boss wanted to umm… know if you could work overtime. Y-you’ll be payed…”

Answered the trembling voice of 'Ibiki’.

“No, I got better things waiting for me at home…”

Garou’s soft answer made you tear up somewhat, and you smiled very gently. Turning your heel, you trecked back home to wait for him. Oh, you might as well set up a surprise for him!

And so, you sneaked away, racing home to start setting up decorations for your hard working man.

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when Garou had finally walked through the front door of your shared home. He let out a relaxed sigh and carefully hung his hat behind the wooden door rack and stretched. His shows had already been discarded near the doormat as he made his way over to the bathroom, passing by the living room decorated with fairy lights and a blanket fort.

Wait a second, fairy lights and a fort?! Did he walk into the wrong house?

He came closer to the blankets sprawled across the floor, getting on his knees and picking one up to inspect it, not expecting you to be under it waiting for him.

“SURPRISE!”

You jumped out from under all of the pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“What’s all this? Yer’ home early again?”

Garou questioned, a confused expression on his handsome face.

“A surprise for you, duh…”

He smirked and coyly slid his arms under your legs, picking you up and setting you down onto his lap.

“No, really? What’s the occasion?”

You gave him a look as if saying, 'seriously?’

“Well, I was walking home from work and I couldn’t take my usual route. I walked past a few shops and I saw you…working. I was so surprised…”

Your voice got quieter as it neared the end and you awkwardly twiddled your thumbs, eyes casted downwards.

“Garou, why…why didn’t you just tell me you got a job?”

Garou let out a huff and ran his fingers through your hair. He looked deep into your eyes and cast you a cute little blush.

“W-well, I know how ya’ kinda freak out when I do…anything so I didn’t say nothin’. I just wanted to help out, ya’ get so tired after comin’ home. I ain’t gonna sit around and watch ya’ work yer’ ass off for me…”

Your fingers gently caressed his face, bringing it closer to yours.

“Garou, the reason I’m so tired after coming home is because I’m still adjusting to my new post at the office. I got promoted and I promise, once I get the hang of it, I won’t be tired at all.”

Garou’s mouth enveloped yours in a sweet exchange, hands roaming your hips.

“I’m really proud of you though…”

Garou broke into a genuine smile, no teasing smirk or smug grin. A genuine stretch of his lips.

“And what do you mean I kind of freak out? I do not!”

You pouted on his lap, crossing your arms and looking to the side.

“Ya’ just planned a surprise for me…”

You blushed and pulled his cheeks.

“Hey, this doesn’t count!”

He chuckled and smirked as you climbed off of his lap and onto the ground below.

“Now take off your clothes and get in here!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent in bliss under a large warm blanket. The two of you lovingly cuddling together, watching movies and talking about Garou’s new workmates.

“So, this Ibiki kid follows me around everywhere, it’s kinda annoying to be honest.”

You laughed at his statement and pointed a finger at his chest.

“Well, he probably likes you. You are very handsome…”

He smirked and gave you a suggestive look, pulling your body closer to his under the blanket.

“Too bad I’m not available, right?”

You giggled at his response, snuggling into his warmth.

“Yes, too bad indeed…”

Giving you one last loving look, Garou kissed you passionately, his fingers caressing your cheek. Your own hand laid gently on his cheek, lips tightly locked with his.

Separating, the two of you breathed heavily and smiled.

“I love you…”

Garou softly admitted, giving you another one of his glorious genuine grins.

You happily blushed, hugging him close and whispered.

“I love you too. So much…”

And with that Garou kissed you again, feverishly, pulling the blanket above your heads, ready to take you to heaven.

It really couldn’t get better than this…

_________________________________________

#garou #garou x reader #garouonepunchman #opm garou #garou headcanons #gender neutral s/o #gender neutral reader #no specific pronouns #i love yous #fluff #opm fluff #garou fluff #submission

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eleven-times-lively · 4 years

Text

Cheeky Niffler

Hello👋 I have a request for Newt Scamander where the reader is an archeologists and they met when the niffler tried to steal something that the reader had found

I love this gif for many reasons. I was thirsty while writing this and ummm... it’s obvious💕

Summary: One of Newt’s nifflers caused a disruption in your work, forcing you and Newt together. Word Count: 2000 Note: I love this idea and story! I was in kind of a writing slump the past week and couldn’t seem to write (I even abandoned a story), so I’m glad to finally get something out! slightttt smut?

You sniffled lightly, carefully dusting off the glinting object in your hand. It had only been a few years since you graduated, but you were now a leading archaeologist with the ministry. Your job took you to many interesting places, and you met many interesting people. Little did you know that today would be no different. You turned the object over in your hands, some ancient looking piece of jewelry. Perhaps a bracelet that had succumbed to the efforts of time. Several small gems peaked out amongst the gold strands, catching the light perfectly. You placed the object down for a moment so you could write your notes on the tiny notepad you carried, but when you turned back the bracelet was gone. You searched the ground around you, but to no avail. You then heard a light shouting, growing increasingly loud.

“Get back here you cheeky- ooohh running away again I see!”

You stood up and looked around, bewildered and concerned. That was when you saw him. A kind looking man dressed in a dapper blue coat with a yellow vest underneath, tied together with a neat black bow. He didn’t look wrong, just out of place. You were in the middle of a vast, dry forest, and he looked like he belonged in the city. You had just realised that he was charging directly at you. You stared on in surprise, eyes wide, and you braced for impact. He stopped short just a foot away from you, crouching down to the ground. You were so frightened and perplexed that you stayed frozen in your spot, even as the man stood and was speaking to you.

“Miss?”, he repeated for the umpteenth time.

Finally snapping out of your daze you met his gaze, “Huh?”, was all you could manage. You were already enthralled by the very sight of him. His eyes held such depth and emotion you could practically see the countless stories they held. The deep, complex blue stared back at you, narrowing slightly.

“Umm,” he muttered, “Terribly sorry but I believe I have something of yours.” He held up the bracelet, inviting you to take it back. You once again snapped out of your daze, lightly grabbing the bracelet and placing it in your bag, never breaking eye contact. You had never seen someone so… beautiful. He wasn’t extraordinarily striking, he certainly wasn’t some sought after bachelor, but there was something so fascinating about him. The innocent smile, the rounded cheekbones, and the peppering of freckles all came together to create the stunning man that was mere inches from you. What felt like an eternity went by before he spoke again, realising you wouldn’t. “One of my nifflers snatched your…”

“Bracelet!” You interjected, a little too excited.

“Right,” he smiled, “They’re terribly attracted to shiny objects I’m afraid.” He chuckled, fiddling with the creature in his hands awkwardly.

“No bother,” you smiled at him, reaching forward to pet the niffler, “I think he’s adorable.” You could have sworn you saw the man blush.

“Oh how rude of me!”, he exclaimed, meeting your gaze one again. “Newt Scamander,” he said, letting the niffler climb up his arm so he could extend a hand to you.

“Charmed,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Y/n.” There was an awkward lull of silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed.

“So you’re here for work?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, his kind expression almost overwhelming.

“Yes!” You loved any opportunity to talk about your job. “I’m with the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” you smiled proudly at him. “ The International Magical Trading Standards Body to be specific,” you added, blushing and turning away slightly.

You didn’t notice Newt’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you up and down. A lightbulb went off in his head and he nearly jumped up and down in excitement. “Pardon, but are you Y/n Y/l/n, as in the head of the Trading Standards Body?”

You turned back, a shy smile creeping across your face. “I am. Youngest ever to be appointed, actually. I started as an archaeologist with Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, but I suppose my knowledge was more useful elsewhere. I was brought in to settle disputes on the origins of objects, and a few projects later… I was appointed,” you chuckled awkwardly, hoping you didn’t sound boastful.

“Outstanding!”, he mused. “I heard about you and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed. And don’t sell yourself short! Merlin, I’ve read both of your books, and Miss you are extremely brilliant. I’m afraid my position may be less impressive to you,” he slowly trailed off, yet his gaze never left yours. “Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, beast division.” He smiled proudly, quite pleased with himself.

“Brilliant!”, you exclaimed. “Magical creatures have always fascinated me. If I wasn’t devoted to archaeology I probably would have pursued something in your field, Mr. Scamander.” You flashed a warm smile, but could sense him growing nervous.

“I apologise, Miss,” he quickly said. “I feel I may have sounded a bit crass or perhaps out of place. Do forgive me.” His face blushed a cherry red as his eyes cast downward. The niffler on his shoulder cocked an eye at you.

“Pardon?”, you question as it quickly pieced together in your head. Surely you were right around the same age as him, but you must terrify him. The amount of power you hold, and what you can do with it, must be at least a little intimidating. “Oh! Merlin, it’s quite alright. Please, don’t treat me any different.”

Newt felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Well, pleasure to meet you Miss y/l/n. Here’s to the hope that we shall cross paths again.” He nodded his head at you and turned to return to wherever he came from.

“Wait!,” you called after him, “Mr. Scamander!”

He turned back, lifting an eyebrow as his head tilted to the side. He slowly walked back over to you. His lips pursed slightly as he stood before you, waiting expectantly.

“If you aren’t busy, would you like to join me for tea? I’m just about finished here.” You smiled at him, hiding your nerves well. You took in his expression: poorly masked excitement. You quickly added, “And not for a business meeting, Newt” You flashed a cheeky grin up at him.

“Oh… oh.” That would be lovely, Miss. I know a fantastic cafe just around a ways away in the town. He was blushing, returning your smile.

“Brilliant. We can meet there in…” you glanced at your watch, “thirty minutes?” He nodded and smiled at you, taking a mental note. “Oh and Newt,” you replied, “Call me y/n.”

***

The short time later you were seated in the quaint cafe, gazing out the large front window. You spotted Newt coming up the long road, looking absolutely giddy. You smiled to yourself, perking your head up at him when he entered. He took a seat, looking as if he had dashed here in a hurry. He placed his case down, finally stopping his movements for a moment to get a good look at you.

You gingerly picked up your teacup, motioning towards him. “It’s a rare blend, Newt. Imported from France.”

He hummed in interest, picking up his own cup and taking a sip. Once again humming in satisfaction, he placed the cup down and looked at you. “So, y/n, if I may ask, what is this if not a business meeting?”

“I think you know Newt.” You lightly chuckled as he returned the smile. “So, tell me, what brings you here? So far from London.”

“Oh, well,” he responded, immediately perking up, “I’m studying the land in an attempt to find a rather elusive type of pixie. They’re known to be picky about climate, so I’ve been sent all across the country to determine where they might be.”

“Fascinating,” you replied.

“And yourself?”

“Yes, well, the sight was the known location of a civilization ages ago, but our neighbors to the north have laid claim to any objects found at the sight. My team and I are trying to find as many objects as possible to hopefully connect a story as to their true origin. Or at least work out a deal with the wizards in Scotland. Normally I wouldn’t join in on the excavations, but this one seemed particularly interesting.”

“Well it worked out fantastically for you didn’t it?” He winked over the brim of his cup, taking another sip.

“I suppose it did.” You winked back at him, laughing playfully.

The two of you spent the next hours or so chatting like old friends. Everything from Hogwarts and climbing the ministry ladder to the changing economy and where Newt purchased his exquisite outfit.

You both stood, heading out the door and stopping at the street. “I hate to sound overzealous, but it’s getting late. Newt, care to return to my hotel with me.”

Newt was about to pass out as his jaw practically hit the ground. “Absolutely.” He smiled, lacing his fingers with your own as the two of you walked.

You reached the nice hotel a few blocks later. The two of you ventured up to your room, where you fumbled with the key. Once the door was shut, you swiftly locked it and pulled Newt into a kiss.

He tensed in surprise at first, but quickly reciprocated. The kiss quickly deepend, and your tongue was about to meet his when he pulled away. “Y/n,” he breathed out, cupping your face in his hands, “Are you sure about this?” You nodded, fumbling with the buttons of his vest. He chuckled, placing a hand over yours on his chest. “I want to hear you, love.”

“Yes, Newt,” you practically moaned out. Satisfied, he leaned back down to press hips lips to your own.

The kiss quickly returned to the same passion, the two of you stumbling over to the bed. You both quickly flung your clothes off, never stopping your actions.

***

The next morning you woke up to a sleeping Newt beside you. You ran a hand along his bare chest, causing him to stir.

“Morning, love,” he groaned, voice laden with sleep.

“Morning, Newtie.” You both shared a blush and a smile before reluctantly leaving the bed.

You both dressed when he came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waste. “This was all wonderful, dear. What a pleasure it was to have met you.”

You chuckled, leaning up to give him a kiss. You both so obviously didn’t want to return to work. “It’s a shame I’ll be heading back to London tomorrow. When will I see you at the Ministry offices again?”

He glanced downward, not wanting to respond. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I have all of England to explore, and I’m only just over halfway there.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “How long have you been out so far?”

“Four months.” A heady air washed over the room, the two of you each taking a step back.

“I can maybe move some things around…” you offered, “have your assignment changed.”

“That’s not necessary.” He noticed your crestfallen expression and took a step forward, taking your hand in his own. “Y/n, my darling, I am more than confident we will meet again soon. I shall be so pleased to even hope. My work is important, as is yours. The universe and ways will align properly, and we will encounter each other again when appropriate.”

You gave a shy smile, barely nodding. “Until we meet again, Newt. Fifth floor, you know where to find me.”

All he could do was smile and nod. He gave you one last kiss before slipping out of the door.

You sighed deeply, already counting down the moments to when you’d see one and other once again.

Do we want a part 2??

Newt Taglist: @whenpugzfly @luckygirl144 @hockeyzegras @hess016 @hariosborn @it-was-three-am

#HP #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander fluff #newt scamander oneshot #newt scamander fanfiction #newt scamander smut #niffler #nifflers #fantastic beats and where to find them

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masonscig · 3 years

Text

water

wayhaven summer fic #5

pairing | nate x ramona

word count | 2.1k

warnings | mention of sex, an innuendo

author’s note | i tried to figure out how to get around nate’s aversion to water, and i hit a wall so... i dug around it and decided to write an actor!au !!!! i’d seen a comic months and months ago by @/pvnkvampr and another one that i can’t seem to find again, but i wanted to take that and apply it to nate and ramona! nate’s the type to fall in love with his costar after years of working together and you can’t convince me otherwise. also, to clarify !!! the beginning of the fic is supposed to be like nate x ramona’s romance route so any of the exposition centered around their relationship being fleeting/him being deeply in love with her is nate the character rather than the actor! (you’ll see lmao i’m definitely overexplaining) this is a bit of a stretch bc they’re on the water... and ramona drinks water. but whatever it works !!!!!

•─────────────────•

She was standing on the edge, looking out at the glimmering water, the sun, high in the sky, skipping off of each wave like a smooth rock.

The wind whipped her hair, tossing her short curls until they were unruly, and she was smiling.

Her grin was wide, eyes closed, as she inhaled, drinking it all in – the sunshine fueled her.

Half of Unit Bravo were under the deck, quietly stewing in annoyance. They’d given up complaining to Ramona, though. Frankly, she didn’t care.

Farah was passed out on the floor underneath a sliver of shade at the top of the yacht, chest heaving as she slept soundly. Ramona had taught her how to swim earlier, and she’d used all of her energy flailing around determinedly in the relentless July rays.

Nate watched her as she held her arms out to her sides, fingers outstretched, chin tipped towards the sky.

She was unbridled joy held together by the strings of her bikini, and she radiated a warmth that could rival even the summer sun itself.

So unrestrained that changes didn’t phase her – most conflict rolled off her shoulders in a way that startled Nate, a being who’d existed for hundreds of years and had seen the best and the worst of it.

Nothing baffled him more than this part of his existence.

The way love fell into his lap and he didn’t have to try anymore.

But despite it all, he’d deluded himself into thinking it was permanent – they were permanent. And they weren’t. And that was okay.

“Oh, you’re back!” She grinned, stretching her arm out until her fingertips grazed his bare arm, her palm warm against his skin. “I was wondering what you were up to.”

“I had to do a quick wellness check of our crew –”

“– Oh my god, are Adam and Morgan still seething down there?–” She asked, cutting him off with a laugh.

“– Very much so, I’m afraid,” he said, his mischievous smile betraying his tone.

“I thought a tiny little shindig would be better than a huge shebang, you know?” She turned in his grip, back against the railing, his arms curled around the bare skin of her waist.

“You’re still trying to stump me? Give it a rest, love,” Nate laughed into the thick mess of curls at the top of her head, pressing a kiss to her sun-warmed strands.

“I will say a phrase you don’t know and then you’ll owe me some juicy Agency secrets,” she giggled, snaking her arms around his neck.

“Like what?” He asked, lips straining at corners, his grin threatening to falter.

“Like how the hell does Morgan wear jeans and no underwear? That’s something I can’t for the life of me wrap my mind around,” she all but shuddered.

“That’s an answer you’ll have to coax out of her, unfortunately.” He said, a bit distracted.

“You know you can keep your Agency secrets, mister secret agent. I have no need for ‘em,” she stuck her tongue out, still stained bright red from the margarita she’d finished hours before.

He must’ve looked puzzled, because she continued, inching in closer until he could feel her everywhere and it wasn’t in the least bit appropriate.

“We both know you have even juicier secrets to spill,” she said, before leaning in to whisper the last bit, her fingers tangled through his hair.

“And I’ll lap up every last drop of ‘em,” she murmured, kissing his earlobe.

The pads of his fingers were sunken into the flesh of her hips, and he tried desperately to anchor himself to spare the others, but he couldn’t get a grip on anything but her warm, warm, sunkissed skin –

He blanked.

His thoughts were scrambled and he couldn’t form words. Couldn’t recall the words he needed to say. But he could see the paper so clearly –

“Line?” He mumbled, feeling her go limp with disappointment in his arms.

Farah groaned from across the deck.

“Cut!” The director yelled, and all but stormed over to him. “What happened out there? You were on a fuckin’ roll! The chemistry was insane. God, I wish you could’ve been watching –”

“Don’t make him feel like shit over it, Craig,” she gently warned, stepping forward just a bit until she’d angled her body between them. “I flubbed my lines all last week and he was so patient with me.”

Craig sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the wrinkled skin between his brows crinkling even further. “Alright, alright, I get it. Not gonna hound you over one take, but I need you to get it in gear, man. We’ve only got a couple more hours of sunlight in this godforsaken shitheap, and we’ve gotta wrap this part up so we can film the sunset kiss –”

“I understand. I won’t mess it up this time,” Nate promised, glancing over to his co-star with an apologetic smile.

Ramona shrugged, waving his statement away. “It’s fine, seriously. I’m totally okay with running that again.” “Speak for yourself! I’m dying out here,” Farah called from across the deck before turning back to the hair and makeup people, pursing her lips for more lip balm and sunscreen. “Please get it right this time, Agent Sewell.”

“That’s just the name of my character –”

“I’m well aware of that,” she yelled, cutting him off. “Method acting. You get it.”

His co-star shook her head, patting him on the back. “Don’t mind Miss Hauville. She’s just upset she was dragged out here to lie down on a hot sundeck like a dead body for half of an episode.”

He laughed at that, relieved that his co-star was keeping things light.

Truth be told, he’d had a rough time getting his on-screen family to cooperate with him, much like the character Nate Sewell.

Adam’s actor was a notoriously nice guy, but he had a knack for intense method acting, so he’d been a stoic asshole for months – there was no getting through to that guy when he was in filming mode. Morgan’s actress was a bit of a wildcard. She was fucking the executive producer and everyone except Craig knew it.

Farah’s actress was arguably the biggest success of them all – she was constantly booked and busy and effortlessly making headlines. And it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was only there as a favor, not because she wanted to.

She was a film star who never touched TV, but hell, she was half the reason millions of people tuned into the pilot episode.

The Wayhaven Chronicles wouldn’t be the same without her, or Ramona’s actress, the fan favorite. Yeah, she was the protagonist, but the cast, crew, fans, and everyone alike loved her.

And he had a bit of a crush.

He was aware that on set romances usually fell apart before they could really begin, but he couldn’t help it.

Not only did he spend nearly all of his free time with her running lines and hanging out in her trailer, but to make matters worse his character was canonically falling for hers, and… he found himself enamored with her, too.

He’d never admitted it out loud, and probably never would, but it was getting harder and harder to push those feelings away when they had to share an on screen kiss.

Season one wasn’t too bad, considering they were just testing the waters to see who the fan favorite love interest was out of the four of them, but by the end of it, social media had all but rioted to lock in the “Natemona” romance plot.

And there they were, well into season two, a handful of kisses shared (a lot more than that considering the reshoots and the practicing) and a plot decided.

And he was into her – way more than he’d like to admit.

The rest of filming went pretty smoothly. He got over his nerves and kissed her like a champ, and they got patted on the back for their realistic chemistry by all the execs and producers on set.

When they finally broke for a quick food break, she followed him to his trailer.

“People are gonna eat this episode up, huh?” She asked, closing the door behind them and grabbing a water bottle from his fully stocked mini-fridge.

“Surely they will,” he agreed, stepping around her to grab his salad from the fridge. “If they were rallying for the relationship before, they’ll be vindicated this episode.”

She laughed into the rim of her bottle before chugging it. “So why were you frazzled today? Something at home?”

He eyed her, raising a brow.

She held her hands up in mock surrender, before plopping onto the couch across from him. “You don’t have to answer, dude, I’m just lending my ear.”

He chewed thoughtfully, trying to choose his words wisely. He swallowed, took another bite, chewed.

His mind was just as blank as the deck scene.

He shook his head before setting his food down. “I’m sorry I’ve been off today.”

“I don’t care if you’re not feeling like yourself. It’s normal to have an off day. I just wanna know if you’re okay,” she said with a tenderness that he’d never heard from a co-star before.

“To be quite honest, you’ve been distracting me,” he admitted, timidly.

She pursed her lips. “What can I do to fix it?”

He squirmed in his seat. God, this was a lot harder than he thought it’d be.

“It’s, uh, nothing you can really fix. It’s all me.”

“Well, what can I do to help?”

He shook his head again, glancing away from her.

“Look, I know Craig’s been rough on us this week, but don’t let it get to you. We can practice more –”

“It’s not that, I promise.”

She waited, sensing that he had more to say. He took a deep breath, then continued.

“It’s something I don’t want to admit to you. It’s embarrassing.”

“Honey, my last job involved waxing places that would make your grandmother gasp. I promise nothing phases me,” she joked, running a hand through her hair.

“There’s… quite a few lines Nate says this season that I’ve resonated with,” he started, trying to figure out what he was gonna pull out of his ass.

She sipped her drink, waiting.

“Things like… ‘I care for you, Ramona’ and, uh, ‘You’re important to me’,” he said, twisting the ends of his summery button up shirt between his fingers.

“Yeah, same here. We’ve become really close –”

She stopped abruptly the moment she noticed the look in his eye. And the subtext hit her like a truck.

“The things Nate feels for Ramona… I find myself feeling for you,” he admitted, hesitantly, looking anywhere but her face.

“If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I’ve just developed a bit of a workplace crush that I can’t quite shake, and that’s my fault –”

She stood from the couch, and he glanced up at her, finally, nervous to see how she’d taken it.

And before he could register what was happening, her lips were on his – a sweet tender kiss.

One that, scarily enough, felt exactly like the last time they’d kissed. And the time before that. And the time before that. And the time before that.

When she pulled away, she cupped his cheeks with the softest touch in the world, gazing down at him with an expression like she’d gotten the best news of her life.

“Those kisses weren’t just practice to me, either,” she whispered, stroking the pad of her thumb across his stubble. “I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

He blanked. Again.

He couldn’t find any words, so he did what Nate would do. What he wished he’d had the courage to do for over a year.

Gently enclosing his arms around her waist, he tugged her down to the couch with him, planting kisses across her face, cheeks, nose, lips, over and over and over, revelling in the broken giggles that erupted from her.

Maybe allowing the essence of Nate Sewell and how he loved pervade his life over the past year and a half of filming was the right step. It’d gotten him the girl, after all.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #nate sewell #twc detective #my fic #wayhavensummer #nate x ramona #detective ramona guerrero

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Being sick with nurse Maxwell lord pls that man can't ever cook a decent soup but who cares he's adorable

Made With Love [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Summary: Maxwell Lord takes care of his sick girlfriend and makes her 'soup'.

Rating: PG

Warnings: food mention, brief mention of blood/injury, mention of throwing up, illness and death

Word count: 2.3k

Authors note: Thank you for the request! I must admit this was quite the challenge as I don’t usually write about food in my fics but the concept of Maxwell taking care of a sick reader by cooking her soup was just too adorable.

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gif by @santigarcia

Maxwell didn't have many regrets. If he regretted his life decisions (even the questionable ones), he wouldn't be as successful as he was today. He always told himself to embrace his choices. But…. he did have one regret. One teeny tiny miniscule regret. And that was promising you he'd cook you some soup. Maxwell Lord, the cover boy of Forbes magazine. The man who founded Black Gold Cooperative. The same man who spoke in the White House and was on the television every night, was standing in his kitchen, before an abundance of vegetables, herbs and spices.

"I hate this." you whined, dramatically stuffing a pillow into your face as you tossed and turned in your big bed. Maxwell shuffled closer to you. He hated seeing you in pain. His heart ached. If he had one wish, it would be to swap positions with you. He'd rather deal with the flu than have you suffer before his eyes.

"I know sweetheart," he sighs, taking a wet washcloth and gently placing it on your forehead. "You have a temperature, but this might cool you down." He hadn't rinsed the flannel properly so little beads of water dripped down your face but you didn't say anything because you knew he was trying his best. If there was one thing you admired about Maxwell, it was that he always tried his hardest in everything he did.

"I already feel cold though." you shivered, pulling the thick quilted blankets further up your body. He handed you a glass of water.

"Darling, you're burning up," he shook his head sadly and you let out another whine. "Drink this slowly. It's important to stay hydrated."

"It's so unfair," you groaned before taking a sip of water. He was right, the cool liquid oozed down your throat and you felt grateful for his suggestion. "How come you never get sick?" You prodded your finger into his tummy and he chuckled lightly. "It's not funny Max."

"You're so cute," he sighs longingly, his lips curving into a smile. "I love you, you know." he boops your nose with his finger.

"Stop!" you playfully slapped his hand away from your nose but instead he cupped his palm around your cheek and nursed the side of your face, his thumb brushing across the plumpness of your lower lip.

He leaned in, the curve of his nose dragging across your skin and pressed his lips softly against yours. He didn't move, it was gentle and tender. Normally when Maxwell kissed you, it was hurried and passionate as he tried to throw your clothes to one side and pin you against a wall but this— this was like a whole new side to him. He rubbed his nose against yours and pulled away after only a few seconds.

"Your breath…." he scrunched up your nose and you gasped, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarassment. "Baby, did you throw up?" you nodded sadly and his heart fell in his chest. "Oh no baby." he soothed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing your tummy.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, now you probably have all my sick germs." you sighed. You couldn't believe how foolish you had been not to tell your boyfriend.

"No sweetheart, don't worry. The kiss was worth it," he admitted sheepishly and you smiled. "I love you." he repeated.

"Maxie, you're being so soft with me. It's not like you at all." you hummed in contentment as he peppered more kisses from your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck, and on your collarbone.

"You know, when my mother got sick," Maxwell cleared his throat. "You know, when her illness got bad. Our house chef taught me how to cook her soup. I spent three or four days practicing but… I never actually got round to giving her it. Because, you know, she passed away."

You frowned, reaching out and lacing your fingers in his hair. "Oh Max, I'm sorry." you whispered sadly, finding your hand in his and squeezing it tight.

"No, I just mean," Maxwell straightened his posture and looked you in the eye. "I hear soup heals the sick."

"I wouldn't go as far to say heals." you stifled a small laugh and he smiled at you. He loved to see you laugh and he felt even better knowing it was because of him. "Wait," you paused, looking up at your boyfriend with an excited doe-eyed expression. "Are you offering to cook me soup?"

"Wh- no," Maxwell laughed awkwardly. "Me? Cook? I don't cook. You know I don't cook. I can get Lucia to come over and make you something or, we can order some soup from the Chinese place you like-"

You shook your head. "No." you said simply, but Maxwell recognised the gleam in your eyes which showed you were thinking of something. "I want you to make me soup."

"Baby," he sighed. "I can do a lot of things. But I can't make soup. Last time I tried, I was sixteen. Was like- twenty five years ago. I don't remember."

"I'm sure if you tried…. if you got all the veggies out, the herbs and spices…. I'm sure it would come back to you." you beamed. He knew exactly where this was going and he didn't like it one bit. "I know Lucia went to the farmers market yesterday and brought in some fresh veg. I was going to cook us a romantic dinner with it but since I'm bed bound… it won't get used. Unless you make me soup."

Maxwell said your name, stern but fair. Like the way he'd talk to his colleugues or business associates. You loved it when he put on that voice with you. It made you laugh.

"Yes Mr Lord?" you teased and he tsked, booping your nose again.

"You know I can't say no to you." he sighed, standing up and brushing his tailored suit down. "It's my biggest flaw."

You were beaming, a grin covering your face. You stretched your body out and folded your arms across your chest. "Life is good… but it can be better," you did your best impression of one of your boyfriend's infomercials. His head snapped in your direction and he looked just as annoyed as he always did when you impersonated him. "...if you made me some soup." you finished and he rolled his eyes.

"Finish your water." he ordered before padding out of the bedroom and heading into the kitchen.

You smiled. You loved your boyfriend so much. He had his ways. A lot of people were frightened of him but he was different with you. The feared Maxwell Lord was your cuddly teddy bear.

And that's how Maxwell ended up in the kitchen amongst a selection of vegetables. He placed a big pot on the hob and began to heat some water. He stared into the bubbling pool of water, wondering where in your conversation about soup, he had gone wrong. Wondering why he could just never deny your wishes. The water began to spill over the pot and he quickly turned the heat down, grabbing a towel and wiping up the mess.

Okay, now he had to cut the vegetables. He took some celery and carrots and began to chop them up. It was a messy job, and he had cut up way too much. Chunks of veg in all different sizes. He sliced his finger and practically wailed in pain as he bolted to the kitchen sink and rinsed the blood away with cold water. The things he'd do for you. He was just about to find a bandaid when he caught the pot of water bubbling over again. He cursed and wrapped a paper towel around his finger— a temporary fix— before turning the flame on the hob down even more.

With his good hand (the hand that he hadn't injured), he grabbed the selection of veg and tossed it into the pan. He was so rough when he done so, the boiling hot water splashed out the pot and dampened his shirt, stinging his uncovered skin. This is why I need a house chef; he thought.

The celery began to soften in the pan, and he was unsure how long to let them cook for. How soft did they have to be? He sighed, turning back to the messy kitchen counter and taking some vegetable stock to give the soup some flavour. He figured it was easy enough to make the stock. Just add water to the powder. He doesn't know how he went wrong… he must've added too much water. And the powder was all lumpy and crumbly. He emptied the jug of veggie stock into the pan, in hope the hot water would melt the powder down— or something like that.

But it didn't. He prodded the veg around with a wooden spoon, checking to see if the celery was soft enough. He still didn't know. He thought back to the house chef from his youth who taught him how to cook soup. Maybe he could find her number and give her a call. He shrugged off the idea. She'd probably be about ninety years old now, and Maxwell was determined. He wanted to do this himself.

Whilst the celery had formed a thick green mush, the carrots hadn't softened one bit. In fact, they remained just as hard as when he cut them up, despite them sterling in the pan for at least fifteen minutes. He was baffled, to say the least. Maxwell Lord wasn't a scientist but he was sure that there was something mysterious going on. This couldn't be right.

And the vegetable stock… it was brown, watery and clumpy and stuck to the green mush. As he mixed it all together, he decided it didn't look that bad. Maxwell sighed, resting the wooden spoon to the side of the pan. He could lie to the world, but he couldn't lie to himself. It looked disgusting.

Nevertheless, he had tried. He had spent time on it. He blamed you. If you didn't like it then that was on you. You should never have believed that he could successfully make soup. He did warn you. He grabbed a ceramic bowl and began to pour the inconspicuous gloop in. He popped a bit of parsley on top and slid one of the solid gold spoons into the bowl.

He padded upstairs, carefully holding the bowl of soup, and entered your bedroom where you were sat, propped up with an abundance of pillows, awaiting your meal. You held your arms out with desire as he handed you the bowl.

"Thank you sir," you said graciously, a teasing sarcasm dripping from your tongue. You looked down at the contents of what was in the bowl and the smile practically fell from your face. "Max… what is this?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows together.

He smirked. "Soup."

You pushed it around in the bowl, eying up the rock hard pieces of carrot and grainy bits of veggie stock. "No it's not." you said cautiously, raising an eyebrow.

He knew it was disgusting. He knew you wouldn't want to eat it— but this was your game and Maxwell, as always wanted to play. "Eat it." he urged and you looked at him like he was crazy.

"Maxie…" you whined. He bit his lip, watching you shuffle around in your bed. You stuck the spoon in and filled it up with the thick green pulp. "I'll have some if you have some too."

He wasn't expecting that. "No." he grimaced, shaking his head.

"Yessss," you sounded so congested, but nevertheless you made your best attempt at a flirtation, fluttering your eyelashes, leaning into him. He felt so bad for you. Once again, he couldn't say no. He just couldn't. You licked your lips. "Open wide Maxie." you smiled, flying the spoon into his mouth. He sucked the 'soup' from the spoon and his face soured, although he done the best to hide it.

It smelt, so bad. "Delicious." he gritted out and offered you one of his charming television grins. "Your turn babydoll." he cooed, taking the spoon from your hand and digging it into the bowl.

He didn't hate you, he loved you very much, and he was already feeling bad for you. He placed the tiniest amount of the green mush on the spoon, with just one piece of hard carrot, and pushed it in between your lips. You took it like a pro, tears pricking your eyes as you swallowed it up.

"Good girl," he praised and you nudged his arm playfully. "Proud of you."

You shook your head, and stuck your tongue out jokingly. Maxwell gasped, stumbling backwards and slapping his hands over his mouth in shock.

"What!" you cried nervously. "What is it? What's wrong?!"

"Your tongue!" he yelled, dramatically pointing his finger. "It's green! It's turned green!"

"Its-" panic coursed through your veins. "It's what?!?!" you screamed and Maxwell burst into a fit of laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" he laughed.

"Maxwell Lord!" you shrieked, throwing a pillow at him. "Don't tease! You know I'm not well!"

Maxwell's lips curved into a smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you." he admitted, clambering back onto the king sized bed and crawling over you. "I love you so much."

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief as he pressed some more kisses into your jaw and your neck. "You're insufferable Maxwell Lord," you said. "But… I love you too." you smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him on top of you.

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! if your name is crossed it out its because i cant tag you).

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader

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