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soaps-mohawk · 9 hours

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

What Could Have Been

Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.

Pairing: Philip Graves x reader

Word Count: 7, 358 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this

A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.

Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have

What Ifs Masterlist | Directory

“You’ve been chosen.”

You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates.

You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide.

“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file.

“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years.

It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago.

“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon.

“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork.

“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office.

It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you.

The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still.

Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen.

You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before.

Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available.

“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in.

The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret.

“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue.

They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall.

“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug.

“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down.

“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.”

They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are.

The rumors are true.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen.

“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer.

Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file.

He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him.

“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.”

“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks.

“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.”

You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen.

The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?

You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom.

Or more like to keep others out.

There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.”

You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him.

“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings.

“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.”

“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect.

Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you.

Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too?

Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again.

It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT.

“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.”

He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.”

Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas.

You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand.

You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around.

Look at me, look at my perfect omega.

Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control.

Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega.

Unless they don’t like you.

You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.

The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before.

Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him.

“Phil?”

It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him.

“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.”

Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand.

Now you do.

You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being.

“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly.

A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”

Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you.

His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.

“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks.

He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap.

“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”

He's talking about your father.

“How did you-”

“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”

He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”

Will you?

You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted.

He’s been waiting longer than two years.

“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting.

You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.”

He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.”

He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either.

You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this?

You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that.

You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s.

“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again.

You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety.

You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted.

That is your job, after all.

Give him exactly what he wants.

The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own.

That’s not the only reason it feels strange.

“Are you not going to-”

Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.”

He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in.

You had been too focused on the bed.

“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl.

“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.”

He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.��

You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything.

Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back.

You wish the door had a lock on it.

You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on.

“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again.

Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason.

You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years.

You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home.

It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever.

There won’t be any going back.

Phil will never change his mind.

The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct.

“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?”

“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class?

He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.”

Would he take you to see your family again?

They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason.

You don’t know anything about his pack.

You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad.

Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas?

Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out?

Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised.

“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?”

You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.”

Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent.

His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders.

You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far.

How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home?

It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured.

Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again.

That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives.

Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know.

You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him.

He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go.

Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment.

“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?”

You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.

“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.”

He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you.

No, you know why.

He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home.

It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting.

That’s your job.

“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. “We were made for each other.”

Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait.

He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.”

“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him.

“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.”

Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest.

‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’

He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet.

Now the silence is almost loud in your ears.

It won’t be silent forever.

You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice.

“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?”

Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually.

Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages.

“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm.

“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her.

Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.”

There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega.

You’re not sure you want to take it from her.

They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added.

Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?

“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says.

You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.”

“That was a while ago.” Jenny says.

“About ten years.” You say.

Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything.

“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?”

The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have.

All we really have is each other.

“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.”

They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have.

Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance.

He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense.

A lot of things make sense now.

Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this.

Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy.

You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what.

“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?”

You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will.

You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms.

Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door.

You don’t doubt he’d break it down eventually.

Then he’ll be angry.

You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you?

The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now.

You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob.

The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again.

The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture.

“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.”

You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it.

You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with.

It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage.

How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years?

Most alphas don’t wait anyway.

“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.”

“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?”

You shake your head.

“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck.

You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving.

“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him.

He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets.

Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle.

“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands.

He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening.

It gets easier.

Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?”

You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision.

“Yes, alpha.”

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #alternate universe #au of an au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha philip graves #omega reader

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swampstew · 19 hours

Text

Oh Baby

Summary: Have you ever had the 'accident' talk? something short and sweet based off this post by @/MangyRacoon | no actual smut, all fluff and tenderness from someone so brash and violent. Thanks again for the original request Hebi <3

CW: Eustass Kid x F Reader, Trafalgar Law x F Reader, Roronoa Zoro x F Reader all separate accidental pregnancy scenario

Kid clocks it right away. He’s so eager when he sees you, finding you on the dock instantly, and the first thing he notices are the dark circles under your eyes and your breasts look particularly perky in your top. He makes himself known, to your surprise, pulling you into a giant hug and asks you if you’re ok.

You tell him you’re just tired from work and your social battery was pretty much drained all the time, but you are happy to see him again. His hand traces your sallow cheeks as you tell him what you’ve been up to before he decides he’s going to carry you to the nearest food stall to get you both something to eat. He holds you while you hold the bags of food, cradled against his muscular chest as he takes long, impatient strides to your home. He’s going to get to the bottom of this and he wants to do it without his crew hovering.

He tells you about his adventures while you eat, if it can be called eating since you a few bites before you looked queasy, abandoning your plate and drinking ginger ale instead. Kid pushes his plate away and brings you to your feet, bringing you to his chest as he his hands gently caress your hips.

“I’ve been gone for a while now. Has anything happened?”

“Hm? Aside from taking on more work to pass the time, not really.”

“Nothing at all? Its been three months since we saw each other.”

“What are you getting at?” you ask irately, not liking the implication of his question.

Kid turns your body so your back is resting against his torso, metal hand holding you in place while his flesh fingers spread across your lower belly. The slow strokes made goosebumps erupt along your soft skin.

“You definitely didn’t have this last time…”

“ARE YOU CALLING ME F—?!” your yell is cut off as he covered your mouth.

“Y/N! Do the math!”

When your body starts trembling, he knows you made the connection and swiftly picks you up and takes you to your bed. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation.

“We never talked about an accident like this,” you whisper.

“No, so what are we going to do?”

“We?”

“Well…yeah. Unless you don’t want me involved…”

“I-I think I want too…but…sigh…I wouldn’t expect you to stay,” you whisper.

“You’re right I wouldn’t” he snorts, “Cause I’m taking you with me, idiot. No way in hell I’m letting you do this alone.”

He’s the type of guy to (ironically) neglect his own health that he can hardly judge. So when he sees you after a few months apart, he tried to suppress his natural inclination to monitor and assess you as he took you into his arms.

In his embrace he can tell you even feel different. Like you were more tender, more sensitive to his touch as you squirmed in his hands. You pull away and he notices the top you’re wearing is the same one you wore the first time you met each other. This time though, he could see the strain on the fabric as your body peeked out from below the hem. And…hmmm did your ass get bigger?

Law tells himself not to do it, he can’t overstep. Fuck it, he does it anyway. As you lead him, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi to a bar, Law walks behind you discretely and scans you – confirming his suspicions.

The crew enters but Law escorts you to a private alley. He can’t wait a second longer to talk with you.

“So, I was gone for what…3 months?” he starts, his tone nearly clinical.

“Uh yup, you kept count?”

Law let out a light scoff, answering your question with another question, “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nope.”

“Have you been feeling…off at all?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N,” Law gripped your shoulder, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Been getting headaches, and uhm – hmm not been eating much either I guess. I feel like I’m just not hungry, and when I am I feel a little queasy.”

“You’re not EATING?!” both hands on your shoulders now, slightly shaking you even.

“I AM! Just with long stretches between meals.”

“Eating what?”

You looked at him long and hard and began listing off the weird combinations you’d been trying out recently. Yeah you knew some of the choices sounded out, but hey, it was the only you could really stomach…

OH.

You both stared wide eyed at each other as the truth sunk in. Oh shit.

Y’all never had the baby talk.

You were scared to voice your real feelings – Law was a pirate and he didn’t have time to be a father…right? Oh gods, he was a surgeon, would he…make you have a procedure if he didn’t want to have a child?

It was like he sensed your internal conflict, taking off his puffy hat and putting it over your head.

“You really want to do this? It won’t be easy you know. Especially in a tight ship like mine…”

Your eyes were glassy as you peered at him, “Are you…sure?”

“It’s your decision, Y/N.”

…

“If its with you, I think I can do it.”

Law couldn’t help the smile that curled over his face. Fondly remembering his own short-lived childhood, being a dutiful son, a caring older brother…

“Of course. And I’m a doctor, no child will be in better care.”

“With your power, I hope you’ll be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”

“Tch, yeah.”

For someone who could be quite thick-headed – the marimo knew something was different in the atmosphere when the ship docked at a familiar island they frequented. He was the first to leave, ignoring the calls of his crew to make sure he remembered the way back.

He was on the hunt – eyes darting left and right, walking swiftly as if he was being guided by an internal compass. Making his way until he found the small cottage you lived in, out in the middle of the fields and not that conveniently close to the town. Between the forest, the tall grass, and canyons, it was a shock he made it to front steps of the house before the sun was even high in the sky.

Zoro didn’t even knock – just turned the knob and stepped inside.

“ZORO!”

Your arms wrapped around his body, relishing in his presence after so many months.

He gently pulled you off him, to your confusion.

“It’s been a while,” he spoke softly, direct contradiction to his actions that felt robotic.

“About 3 months.”

“Yeah. Did anything happen during my absence?”

Your brows knit in confusion, “No? Like what?”

His green eyebrows furrowed right back at you, almost accusingly.

“Really? You haven’t been feeling like somethings wrong or anything?”

“Why would something be wrong?!”

With a frustrated click of his tongue, “You…smell different.”

Staring at him with wide-eyes, he couldn’t tell if you were plain shocked, offended, or saddened by his statement.

“NOT IN A BAD WAY!” he gripped your arms a little tightly, “JUST! You SEEM DIFFERENT! I don’t know how to describe it!!”

“Different how, besides the apparent aroma I’m wafting,” you asked indignantly.

A twitch of his forehead vein, Zoro took your hand and walked to your bedroom. Facing you in front of your standing mirror, he pulled your shirt over your belly and ran his hands down to your hips.

“These are bigger. Wider. There’s something in there,” he pointed to your barely swollen bump that had gone entirely unnoticed by you.

“Oh SHIT.” Your body shuddered and nearly collapsed in on itself as you sunk to the floor.

Zoro grabbed your elbows and gently lowered you, sitting next to you as you both had the same thought flashing through your minds.

We never had the ‘accident’ talk.

Less than a minute had gone by in silence before Zoro’s hand held yours, circling his thumb over the back of your hand, almost reassuringly.

“The Sunny is pretty big. Tons of stuff for a kid to get into, and a great crew that would keep an eye out. Robin could lend a hand anytime too.”

“Are you sure, Zoro?”

“I probably wouldn't make a good father on my own, but at least we have people to help us.”

A small smile pulled up the side of your mouth and it made Zoro’s heart stutter, “I’ve always heard it takes a village to raise a child. I wouldn’t mind the Straw Hats being that village.”

“Uh… Y/N, we’re a crew.”

“Same diff, mosshead.”

#eustass kid #trafalgar law #roronoa zoro #eustass kid x you #swampstew bedtime stories #eustasscaptainkid #cw accidental pregnancy #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #law x y/n #zoro x y/n #one piece fanfiction

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mentalmeles · 2 days

Text

Well. While the brain rot has me, I wanna talk about some lines in ‘Trust Love’ that have been bothering me lately. Mostly how they blatantly reference Penny and how she just might return once more.

Yes, it’s that kind of Penny posting. If you don’t subscribe to the Penny 3.0 theory or think she should stay dead, please carry on and let me have my silly little thoughts in peace. Also this is 100% Nuts and Dolts propaganda. I will not apologize.

ANYWAY! Onto the lyrics!

Right now, your hopes are shattered / Just pointless ever after

This line obviously talks about the loss of hope. Penny, time and again, has been the character to symbolize hope. The most obvious time this has been done was during Jinxy’s auction in Volume 9.

Ruby is inexplicably drawn to the jade marionette, which we all know turns out to be one of Penny’s swords. (And ofc let’s not forget that weapons are considered an extension of their owners in this world.)

Without knowing why, Ruby wants it and tries to wager for it. But Jinxy asks for something in particular—something Ruby has lost.

“Enough hope to fill [a] jar.”

I also want to point out that the pov making it look like the jade marionette is fitting inside the jar as well as the star charm tied around the top are not at all coincidences. This is the show telling us point blank that Penny is the personification of hope. Or at least Ruby’s hope.

But Ruby just lost her. She has no hope left.

But in time, you'll find / Through love, your power just shines

(I felt the need to put this gif here since it is exactly what plays during these lines in the Volume 7 intro, so let’s just sit and think about the implications of that for a moment. Cool? Cool.)

When you don't know where to turn to / And you're sure all hope is gone / When the day you waited for won't come / And dark won't yield to dawn / Trust love and open up your eyes

Now these lines are what get me. They talk about Ruby losing hope and direction, caught in darkness. Now, while this is the intro song for Volume 7, it’s clear that Ruby has not lost her hope yet. If anything, she just got a big chunk of it back.

And I’d argue that even In Volume 8 when shit has hit the fan and it just keeps coming and coming, Ruby hasn’t lost her resolve yet. There are definitely moments when she comes very, very close to it and she falters, but she does end up maintaining it for the most part.

(I can't find it, but imagine the gif where Ruby is looking down at Penny's unconscious body and is tearing up while saying "It's all...too much." Wow. Such a pretty gif.)

(It's also funny how these moments where Ruby's doubts are the strongest are taking place when Penny is seriously wounded and incapacitated, now isn't it? Surely that's just a funny coincidence...)

But then she and the rest of team RWBY fall into the Ever After and, after learning about Penny's second death, Ruby's mental state just falls deeper and deeper.

But then the lyrics tell Ruby that all she has to do during this dark and harrowing moment is to 'trust love.' Who's love is she supposed to trust? The song has been relating to keeping hope up till now, so it's not a stretch to say that she's supposed to trust the love she had for Penny, platonic or otherwise.

Trust love, the truth is there, but sometimes in disguise

These lines are certainly interesting when put into the context that they're also related to Penny somehow. Personally, all I can think of is when Penny transferred the Winter Maiden powers to Winter. I'm definitely not the first to mention this, but it's awfully suspicious that the aura glow was yellow and not green, isn't it? Sure, there were motes of green, but that isn't what happened when Fria gave Penny the powers previously. So why the change? Unless the truth, while there, is disguised. The truth is that Penny is dying and giving up her power, but it's disguised somehow...

The way's uncertain but we're together / Movin' toward the light / When we trust in love and open up our eyes

Mention of Ruby being together with someone. Obviously, this could just be referring to team RWBY or the whole group being together, united under the mission of saving Remnant from Salem. But, again, when mostly every other line has been tied to hope--and by extension Penny--, it's hard to believe it's talking about that. So, maybe a reunion with a certain someone that hasn't happened yet? A reunion that will bring Ruby back towards the light--towards regaining her hope--once and for all? I mean, if Ruby's character arc in the second Justice League crossover movie is where her arc will go in the show proper, it's not too far of a stretch.

(The reason I mention the Justice League crossover movies is because Ruby's arc in the first movie was very reminiscent to the arc she had about her leadership role in Volumes 7 and 8. So, since she became very self sacrificing in that movie, diving headfirst into mission after mission with no regard to her safety, maybe that's what will happen in Volume 10 too? Maybe having the potential of getting Penny back will be the thing to make her stop?)

Anyways... I don't know if any of this really made any sense and I might just be rambling nonsense, but yeah. Some things that I noticed and felt the need to shout out into the ether.

Thanks for reading!

#rwby #greenlight volume 10 #penny polendina #ruby rose #nuts and dolts #nuts n dolts #mechanical rose #penny 3.0 #the star child speaks #long post

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dylandaydreams · 2 days

Note

reader casually mentioning to patrick during a hookup he's the first guy they've been with and him thinking is hot (bisexual king)

anon i’m so sorry this took me so long but you truly rewired my brain with this one, thank you!!

[nsfw below the cut, minors dni!]

you & patrick had mutual friends & were introduced to each other over dinner & drinks, your gazes lingering over each other long enough for your friends to understand what was going on & push you two to sit next to each other for the night. a few drinks in & you were more loose lipped than usual, free of your usual inhibitions. so when your friends suggested a game of never have i ever, you went along with it rather than calling it childish or immature like you usually would. so did patrick.

a few typical rounds passed, drinks being sipped & laughter occasionally ringing out from someone in the group. as both of you get more intoxicated, patrick’s hands start to wander. previously, one had sat on table while the other rested on his thigh, but now it was on your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

“okay, okay!” one of your friends laughed, their eyes sparkling with a new question. “never have i ever… faked an orgasm?” a chorus of groans ring out in the room, & everyone except you & patrick take a sip of their drink. you share a knowing smirk, & he gives your thigh a squeeze that makes heat pool in your stomach. “wait, seriously?” your friend questions, making your break eye contact with patrick. you shrug. “yeah, that’s what happens when you’ve only slept with women, i guess.” you laugh. your friend rolls their eyes in amusement & someone else moves to continue the game, but the sentence has barely left your mouth when you feel patrick shift next to you, rubbing the hand that’s not resting on your thigh on his face. “really?” he asks softly once your friends have resumed playing. his eyebrows are raised in shock, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that makes you shift a little in your seat.

you shoot him a glance, a smile curling at your lips. “yeah, really.” you confirm again. he nods slowly & his gaze wanders away from you for a second, focusing on a faraway point behind you before his eyebrows furrow & he meets your eyes again. “but like, by choice?” he presses. you laugh again. “i didn’t know this was such a big deal.” you tease. he tilts his head to the side & raises an eyebrow, not an ounce of embarrassment regarding the rather personal question he just asked, just curiosity. the game your friends are playing is now long forgotten.

“not necessarily by choice.” you clarify, absentmindedly taking another sip of your drink before you speak again. “just happens to be that i’ve never had sex with a guy. yet.” this last word you mutter under your breath, hoping patrick is too drunk to hear you. but if his wide grin & his hand’s grip on your thigh means anything, he definitely hears you.

once the night draws to a close, you both say goodbye to your friends, & don’t even try to be discreet about leaving together, knowing your friends’ whistles & cheers would’ve followed you out of the bar regardless of how secretive you might’ve tried to be.

once you get to your house, patrick can’t seem to be able to peel your clothes off of you fast enough. “fuck.” he mutters into your mouth, both of your lips glossy with spit. “can’t believe i’m gonna be the first- oh shit, first guy to fuck you.” he finishes his sentence with difficulty & closes his eyes, his own words overwhelming him. “sure you’re gonna last that long?” you tease him, amused by his shamelessness.

he takes your comment as a challenge & pulls your shirt off of you before capturing your lips again. you wrap your arms around his neck & pull him closer, & his hands slide down to your ass, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. you comply & mumble “first door on the left.” into his mouth to guide him as he carries you to your bedroom. patrick discards his shirt somewhere on the floor of your room & then places you on the bed before laying beside you. you run your hands & then your tongue over patrick’s chest, licking & sucking & biting. he’s laying back on the bed & watching you, letting you have your fill. patrick’s trying to let you explore but his patience is quickly running out.

thankfully, you quickly reach his boxers, possibly even more impatient than he is. seeing his length through his boxers makes your eyes go wide a little & he chuckles. “you okay, pup?” he teases. “you’re big.” you reply softly, palming him through the fabric & making him groan. “mm, yeah.” he groans. “gonna let me put it all inside you, huh?” you nod as you pull his boxers down & move to take him into your mouth. “spit on it.” patrick requests, his eye glinting with amusement. you hesitate for a second but ultimately follow his request, letting drool pool on your tongue before opening your mouth & letting it slide down to his cock.

“fuck, that’s good.” patrick says, his eyes rolling back as you take him into your hand & start stroking him. “can i put my mouth on it?” you ask after a couple of minutes of just using your hands. his hips cant up into your hands at your question. “yeah, you want my dick in your mouth?” he presses. you nod & he grins. “sure baby, go ahead.” with his consent, you lower your mouth onto him & start laving kitten licks onto his tip, gathering his precum on your tongue before spreading it all across his cock. “fuck, that’s good.” he hums, watching you explore with an attentive & heated gaze. you suckle on his tips & his hips buck into your mouth, pushing himself further into your throat & making you gag. “sorry.” he grins, not sounding very sorry at all.

you roll your eyes at him & try to take him back into your mouth, but he pulls you off. “nuh uh baby, wanna fuck you.” he states, reaching for your boxers. you let him peel them off of you & then lay back on the bed. patrick crawls over you & spreads your thighs apart with his strong hands. “gonna make you feel real good.” he mutters, almost to himself as he lines himself up with your entrance. he shoots you a quick glance to make sure you’re okay, & the kind gesture in the middle of such a heated moment makes your clit twitch. he smirks like he knows & you’re about to tell him to shut up, but then he’s pushing in & the words die on your tongue.

“fuuuuuck.” patrick drags the word out, his mouth open & his eyes shut in bliss as he sinks into you. when he bottoms out he opens his eyes to check in with you. “good?” he asks. you nod & grab his hip, urging him to move. “patrick, i’m not made of glass.” you tease. “fuck me like you’re the only man who’s ever going to.” your words immediately light a fire in his eyes, & he pulls out only to slam back into you. “oh, so you want it like this?” he spits out, his hips rocking into you with speed that makes your eyes well with tears & your breaths come in gasps. “want me to take care of you huh?”

you nod as he continues to pull in & out of you, bringing you closer & closer to your climax. your arms wrap around him & you rake your nails down his back, feeling his hips kick into with more fervor at your actions. “so- so good, pat.” you manage to gasp out between thrusts. he grins. “yeah, feels good?” he mocks. you’re helpless to his goading, any sense of shame now long gone. his arms move to push your legs from around his hips to over his shoulders, reaching an even deeper spot inside you & making you whimper.

“yeah, that’s it, huh?” his eyes sparkle with delight at your reactions. you’re moments away from orgasming, & if the pulsing of his cock is anything to go by, patrick is too. “fuck, baby.” he exclaims, his confident facade falling for a moment to let you see just how good you’re making him feel. one of his hands slides from your thigh to your lower stomach, pressing down to hear you gasp at the sensation. “daddy’s gonna make a space for just for him right here, baby.” his words make you gasp & you clutch his arms, desperate to cling onto something solid while his hips continue drilling into you & his mouth continues spilling filth.

“no other man’s gonna fuck you like me.” he gasps out against your mouth, & you nod as he reaches down to brush your clit, sending you over the edge. you moan loudly as you orgasm, & patrick finishes inside you moments later with a moan of his own. he keeps thrusting shallowly for a few more seconds before pulling out, watching his cum drip out of your hole. “fuck.” he grins.

you can’t help but agree.

#patrick zweig #patrick zweig x gn reader #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you

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agere-fics · 1 day

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Pretty Kitty

pairing: cg!logan howlett x little!reader

word count: 683

content warnings: cursing, usage of "daddy" and "dada", mean guy judging both you and wolvie

summary: you paint logan's nails!

@sleepyboy-stuff you seemed interested in this so i tagged you!

♡

For years in the making, an after battle nap became routine. He couldn't just nap anywhere, though. It had to be on brown, leather couch in the x-mansion living space. The couch was old, worn, tattered, even blown up a few times. But damn if it didn't lead to the best sleep Logan's had in ages.

He wouldn't consider himself a light sleeper but something definitely triggered his consciousness. Shuffling, movement, soft mumbles. Someone was here.

He groaned and squinted his eyes open, tensing at the blurry figure next to him. He shifted away from it quickly. Who would even dare to- oh.

"Don't move, daddy, you'll mess up my artwork!" you whined.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Logan wasn't under attack. It was simply his sweet little bub kneeling beside the couch, holding his hand and painting red onto the nail of his pinky finger.

"Hey, bub." he muttered.

You turned to look at him with bright, sparkling eyes. You were so happy to see him. "Have a good nap, daddy?"

"You know it." he rumbled.

Your eyes shifted back to your task at hand. You brushed a bit more red onto his pinky finger, trying very hard not to get polish on his skin. Daddy wouldn't care but you knew you would care. It's got to be perfect for daddy!

"Whatcha doing?" he asked.

"Making daddy a pretty kitty." You picked up his limp hand and showed him your work so far. Logan didn't mind the nickname. He liked anything you gifted him.

However, he did quirk his brow at a certain implication. "Wait a minute, I thought you said I was already pretty?" A sliver of a smile poked through his serious facade. He can't actually be serious with you, you're way too cute for him to be all grumpy, wumpy. You've got him tied around your finger and he's a-okay with that.

"Wait but you are, daddy! You are! I'm just uhhhhh...." You looked around the room, aimlessly searching for an answer. "OH, I'm making you even prettier! The mostest prettier ever!"

The sliver of a smile turned into a full grin. He sat up and observed his now painted hand. "What colors did you use?" He wouldn't be your daddy if he didn't test your knowledge just a little bit.

"I used some red and pink and blue, oh and orange, and only a little yellow cause it's basically empty, see?" You turned the bottle upside down and shook it before tossing it to the side. "Do you like your nails, daddy?"

Logan lifted his hand, moving it this way and that. Up, down, left, right, sideways, up ways, down ways, more ways. You patiently waited for his approval with wide eyes. "Of course, I do, pumpkin. It's perfect."

You pulled him closer by his shirt, jutted your lip, lowered your brows, and squinted your eyes. With your other hand you pointed at him very sternly. It took everything in Logan to not coo at your cutely angry expression. Your face was scrunched, just like your daddy does sometimes. "Never take it off, daddy."

"Don't worry," he giggled. "I won't."

"What's happening here?" came a voice.

Mr. Butern... the professor of mutation genetics. When did he get here? "Turning into a pretty little princess, huh, Logan?" he scoffed and began to walk away.

Logan moved quickly and shoved the professor against the wall. His claws came out to play, pricking at the meanie's neck.

"Say another word and I will slice your fucking head off-"

"Daddy, that's a bad word!" you scolded.

Your daddy turned to face you. "Apologies, pumpkin." He turned back round. "Now, you tell my little one how good of a job they did."

The other guy stuttered, shaking so bad he must be a milkshake inside. "You d-did a good j-job."

Daddy dragged him to the tattered couch and shoved him down. "Sit your ass down."

Daddy's face immediately went from angry to mushy mush as he looked at you. "Bub, I think you should give him a makeover, too."

"Right on it, Dada!"

♡

#cg!logan howlett #cg!logan #cg!wolverine #age regression #agere #sfw agere #age regressor #agere blog #agere little #agere sfw #agere fanfic #little reader #xmen agere #agere xmen #agere logan howlett #caregiver logan howlett #logan howlett agere #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett

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laughingfcx · 1 day

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3+1: THREE TIMES MEGUMI GIVES YOU SOMETHING, AND ONE TIME YOU RETURN THE FAVOUR.

megumi, water :: it's hot — thirty-five degrees, to be exact, and of course you've forgotten to bring water, and the only canteen nearby only takes cash, no change. in short: you're melting.

you're draped over a lunch table, cheek pressed against the cool (but rapidly warming) metal. oh, what you'd do for a drink right now—

suddenly, you can hear footsteps behind you, coming closer with each passing second.

hi, megumi. you can tell it's him without even looking.

hi yourself, he replies, slipping into the chair next to you. a small bottle of water is slid your way; he does not look at you, but the gesture speaks for itself.

thank you.

don't.

don't what?

don't thank me.

you've had this conversation a million times before.

just because we're best friends doesn't mean you have to—

i do it cause i want to, okay? he turns to you, annoyed. all you can think about is how pretty he is.

megumi, company :: frat parties are scary. you don't know why you're here; nobara and maki have already disappeared too. it's packed, sweaty, scary. you squeeze through the crowds to climb out of a window and escape the heat. you know you can't leave until you find your friends, though, so for now, sitting on the dewy grass in the backyard will have to suffice.

megumi was right, you think.

don't go, he'd said, sprawled out on your bed, arms around one of the plush animals on your bed. it's tucked under his chin, and he looks adorable.

why not? you'd asked him.

it's not worth it, he scoffed. couldn't pay me a billion yen to go.

you should've listened—

can i say i told you so?

megumi?

he ignores you; or are you gonna start crying? you definitely—

you launch yourself up from the ground into his arms, laughing. i thought you said you weren't gonna come!

i had a feeling this'd happen. the slightest hint of a smile graces his lips. couldn't leave my favourite alone now, could i?

what? say it again, i think i heard wrong.

his smile widens; he shakes his head.

megumi, power bank, his heart ? :: my phone's dying, you sigh.

no response.

my phone's dying, you repeat, louder.

say please. he's desperately fighting a losing battle, the corners of his lips twitching.

please, megumi, give me the power bank!

you snatch it greedily from his hands, connecting it to your phone.

no thanks?

thank you, megumi! you throw your arms around his neck suddenly, and he is glad that you cannot see the blush on his face.

megumi always carries power banks with him. it's a known fact by now; he always has one on him. meanwhile, your phone is always dying. what a coincidence!

or not.

because one day, you overhear him talking to yuji. you're not really listening, scrolling on your phone when you hear your own name.

it's only because of y/n that i need a backpack in the first place, megumi grumbles. otherwise, everything else fits on my pockets.

then don't? to yuji, the problem is easy to fix.

but they need it.

so?

megumi makes a grumbly noise in his throat; so cute, you think.

oh yeah, says yuji. i forgot you're horribly in love with them and everything you do is somehow connected to them.

oh.

they're here, by the way, he adds.

what? did they hear?

i don't know, yuji replies unhelpfully.

you barely manage to get your earphones in before they walk in.

you, flowers, chocolates, your heart ? :: today is the day. to say you're nervous is a huge understatement. your hands are shaking, palms sweaty, and you're shivering, even though it's not that cold. the flowers and chocolate wait patiently for you on your desk.

megumi, you say aloud to the empty room. megumi, i like you and—

fuck.

megumi, you begin again. i've liked you for a long time and—

who've you liked 'for a long time'? megumi looks mildly interested as he walks in. you always get kind of lonely around this time so i thought i'd come to hang out.

his voice is even, but you amidst the normal calm, you sense something controlled. like he's actually sad, or something.

no one!

yeah? he hums. i'm not buying it, but i won't push you.

fuck him! why does he always have to be this respectful? if he asked you, you wouldn't not have answered!

who gave you the flowers?

i bought them myself! you squeak.

he raises a brow at how high-pitched your voice is. for?

um.

you see the way he stiffens visibly, hand tightening around your doorknob. he swallows, and then, sorry for overstepping, y/n.

no!

what?

you're not overstepping, you tell him. you have every right to know. we're best friends, right?

... right, he responds, but there's something missing; he's clammed up, retracted into himself. his voice is forced into not showing any emotion, and he's backed away a little bit from you.

your heart breaks at the sight.

megumi, i like you!

you're shitting me, he replies.

no, really! also, i hope you don't mind, but a few weeks ago i heard yuji and you talking, and he said something, and—

stop talking, he murmurs. i want to kiss you.

megumi has never been greedy. be selfish, gojo's told him. he's never listened — he's had no reason to, after all. yet... right now, he understands. it's all he can think about — getting something he wants, getting it now.

when he makes his way back to you, all he can think of is how kissing you will feel. when he is kissing you, he realises that he wants this forever. so he lets himself be a little selfish, and tells you he loves you, and asks for the one thing he'd thought he'd never have — you.

new freaky writing style LOL only for this one though... also 3+1 because im lazy and sad and unmotivated. also grammatical errors highkey & im sorry.

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 23 hours

Text

Hate You (Kidding)

Crowley & daughter!reader, Sam and Dean & witch!reader, a little Rowena & granddaughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your dad abandoned you years ago, but what happens when he finds out you’re still alive?

A/N: just so no one gets confused about this, here’s the background—Crowley found out how powerful demon/human babies can be, so he tried to make one, only it didn’t go the way he planned—the baby (you) were born without powers, and so he abandoned you. (Just because I didn’t want to give this the exact same backstory as Crowley’s son)

The theft was not going well. Your grandmother had made it seem so easy—sneak into the bunker, grab the black spell book, and make it out fast.

She failed to mention the two professional hunters that lived there.

You hadn’t been dumb enough to assume it would be empty—there had to be a reason Rowena wasn’t going herself, after all; she was scared. But you weren’t ready for Sam and Dean Winchester.

They had you in their dungeon basement—which was super creepy—before you’d even managed to find the book, much less grab it.

“What were you looking for, kid? Who sent you here?” The shorter—but no less scary—one had his hands on the sides of your chair, and he was looming over you. You had no doubt that he was willing to hurt you—you did break into his very dangerous house, after all.

You kept quiet, still unsure what the best course of action was. If you told them about the book and Rowena, would they let you go and go after her?

Then again, you didn’t know anything about these guys—maybe once they got their information, they’d just kill you.

You decided to stay quiet.

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand on the arm of your chair, and you flinched. “I said—“

The man stopped yelling when the lights went out. They flickered back on a moment later, only this time they were red.

“Someone’s here,” the tall one said.

“I’ll go check.” The man in front of you pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and turned to leave, saying to the tall one “watch her.”

Then it was just you and the giant—who, surprisingly, seemed a little less scary. He was definitely intimidating, but he also had a sort of “I don’t hurt children” vibe about him.

“This will all be easier if you tell us what you were after,” he broke the silence.

“Right, because you’ll have a reason to keep me alive after I tell you everything,” you scoffed.

“We won’t have a reason to kill you, either,” Sam countered.

“And you need one?” You questioned.

“What makes you think we’d just kill you for no reason?” He asked.

“I mean I did break into your house, and you are hunters.” You shrugged as best you could with your hands cuffed behind you.

“I’m Sam,” the man said, crouching down so he was more on your level—he was trying to look less intimidating, which surprised you. “That other guy is my brother Dean. We are hunters, but we’re not gonna just kill you for no reason. We’re not like that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the door opening cut you off.

“Look who came for a visit.” Dean stepped into the room with a man trailing behind him. As soon as the man stepped into the light, every bit of air left your lungs.

“Didn’t know you had a visi—“ Crowley’s sentence froze halfway out of his mouth when he laid eyes on you.

Dean’s suspicious gaze picked up on the awkwardness instantly.

“You two know each other?”

Crowley gained his voice back first. “Used to. Not so much anymore.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” You found the strength to speak after you heard Crowley’s words. “You still look just as pathetic to me, father.”

“Father?” Dean choked. “Wait, that’s not possible.”

“I thought you were dead.” Crowley was now completely ignoring the Winchesters. “After…after that incident I figured the demons would’ve—“

“Incident?!” You all but screamed. “Incident? Is that what you call you abandoning me? Leaving me for dead? An incident?”

“I had no choice,” Crowley argued. “When the other demons found out you were powerless—“

“The other demons? It wasn’t about the other demons, it was about you! You used my mother to make yourself a half demon, and when I didn’t turn out to have any powers you threw me away. You wanted your demon friends to kill me.”

“No.” Crowley was brushing past Sam and Dean now, coming to stand directly in front of you. You squirmed in your chair, but you couldn’t get further away from him. “No I didn’t. I thought if I got rid of you, they’d have no reason to kill you and—“

“Don’t lie to me!” You cried out. “I’m not stupid! You may not have wanted me dead, but you sure didn’t abandon me to try to save me. You did it because I was useless to you. Pretending otherwise is just…it’s just pathetic.”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but he had nothing to say—he knew you were right.

“So you’re half demon with no powers?” Dean cut in. “Because I’ve met a half demon who could do anything he wanted just by thinking it.”

“Why do you think he wanted to make me?” You forced your gaze away from your father to look at Dean. “He wanted an all powerful being that was also fully dependent on him. Too bad for him, not all half demons are the same, and he got stuck with the powerless one.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here now,” Sam cut in.

You bit your lip. You should’ve known it would circle back to this.

“Look, we’re not gonna hurt you if you tell us,” Sam promised.

“Fine.” A sly smirk lifted onto your face as your eyes went back to your father. “I’m here to get a book. For my grandmother.”

Crowley was still choking on air while Sam and Dean shared a meaningful glance before turning back to you.

“Rowena? You’re working for the witch?” Dean’s reaction told you that he both knew Rowena and probably hated her.

“She’s the only reason I’m still alive,” you said. “When he—“ you were inclined your head towards Crowley “—left me behind to get killed by demons, she saved my life.”

“My mother knows you’re still alive and she never told me?” Crowley scoffed. “It’s just like her.”

“She didn’t tell you because I told her how much I hated you.” You glared at Crowley as you spoke. “She understood the feeling, and we had a mutual understanding. Anyway, she told me she would teach me to take out demons the way she can—“

“But let me guess—only if you steal a spell book from us and bring it to her,” Dean interrupted.

“She said it was the only way she’d be able to teach me,” you defended yourself.

“She lied,” Crowley butted in. “She always lies—she was using you to get that book.”

“Oh, right, because you’re so trustworthy,” you shot back. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t think it’s a little strange that the first thing she does with you is send you to a place where you could get hurt, just to get something for her?” Sam argued. “You don’t think that that’s using you?”

You were quiet for a moment, and when you spoke again it was more subdued.

“I didn’t have any other choice. There are still demons out there who want me dead, and I’m totally and completely helpless.”

“You don’t have to be,” Crowley said. “I can help you.”

“Rowena may not be a saint, but I already know I can’t trust you,” you snapped. “I’m not looking to get abandoned again.”

“She had to know you’d get caught.” Sam seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else. “So why…”

The Winchesters seemed to come to a conclusion at the same time, sharing a moment of telepathic connection before they turned and ran out the door.

“Do they do that a lot?” You wondered.

“You have no idea,” Crowley huffed. “I suppose I should find out what’s wrong.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” The sudden smirk on your face made Crowley nervous. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you fell for that whole ‘totally and completely helpless” thing.” As you spoke, Crowley saw a faint glow coming from your hands, which were still handcuffed behind you. After a moment, he heard a snapping sound, and suddenly both of your hands were free and you were standing up. “Do you really think Rowena sent me here with no knowledge of magic?”

With a single wave of your hand, you sent Crowley flying against the wall. He landed with a thud, and you stepped over his frame on your way out the door.

“See you soon, father.”

…

Rowena had escaped with the book by the time Sam and Dean got to the library—she had waited until everyone was in the dungeon to make her move—and by the time the boys got back to the dungeon, Crowley was on the floor and you were gone.

“Great,” Dean growled. “She tricked us. I hate witches!”

“For once,” Crowley groaned as he slowly sat up. “I agree with you.”

…

“The Winchesters.” Your nervous gaze met your grandmother’s as you watched her flip through the spell book. “It’s them, they caught up. What now?”

“We need to distract them long enough for me to get through this spell,” Rowena insisted. “I won’t even need the book anymore as long as I can get this spell done.”

“I’ll distract them.” You were halfway to the door when Rowena stopped you.

“No, you’re not strong enough, not like this.” The way your grandmother was staring you down made you nervous.

“Like this?” You asked.

The door blasting open after a swift kick from Dean Winchester seemed to make up Rowena’s mind.

“I’m sorry, dear girl, but it’s the only way,” she said. “Impetus be—“

“Not so fast, mother.” You father appeared out of nowhere just behind Rowena, and he snatched up the spell book she was holding and swung it at her—she went down without another word. “I’m the only one that gets to hurt my brat.”

You didn’t say anything—you were still shaking. “Impetus beastiarum”—that’s what Rowena had been trying to say. Your own grandmother was going to turn you into a rabid monster—and ultimately kill you—just so that she could get away.

“The book.” You flinched out of your daze when Sam Winchester brushed past you and held his hand out to your father.

“Of course, moose,” he answered. “What would I need with a witches book?” He passed it over without argument.

“Why did you save me?” You demanded, sidestepping the taller Winchester to get a good look at your father, who merely shrugged.

“I’m the only one that gets to kill you.”

…

The Winchesters, of course, wanted to grab you after the little incident, but you flung them against the wall with your powers—one of the few tricks your grandmother had managed to teach you, and currently your favorite—and left before they got the chance.

You didn’t see them or your father for several more months. When you saw Crowley again, you were running for your life.

Somehow word had gotten around that a great witch had a granddaughter; or maybe it was that the king of hell had a daughter—you didn’t know, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that an archangel was after you because of it, and you had tried to cut a deal with him.

It hadn’t worked.

Lucifer had wanted you because he thought you’d be useful, and when he found out you weren’t, he of course decided that killing you was proper punishment for wasting his time.

You were in the midst of running for your life when you saw your father.

He was chained to the floor like a dog, watching your exchange with the archangel with peaked interest.

“Conteram hoc cincinno,” you yelled as you ran—it worked, and the chains at Crowley’s wrists snapped; they were warded against demons, not witches.

The freeing of his prisoner was enough of a distraction to get Lucifer off your tail. By the time he remembered you, you were out the door, and when he tried to turn his attention back to Crowley, the demon had already teleported.

…

“What was that?”

You jumped in surprise when your father appeared next to you.

“An escape,” you huffed out.

“You saved me back there.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you demanded. Crowley just grinned at you.

“Maybe witches aren’t so bad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x reader #crowley x daughter #crowley spn #crowley

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lyneys4 · 2 days

Text

ms grumpy <3

tartaglia x reader, modern au

Ms Grumpy and Mr Sunshine - “grumpy!”

‘Grumpy’, he had described you many times before. Tartaglia, Childe, Ajax, Mr Worldwide, a man with too many names to count was calling you ‘Grumpy pants’ in class.

You couldn’t tell if people where laughing at him, at you or with him but it was definitely all three.

You, ‘Ms Grumpy’ nicknamed by the one and only Tartaglia. Normally he rather everyone call him Childe but you always called him Tartaglia.

“Ms Grumpy you need to stop calling me by my full name it’s weird!” He complained.

“It’s not your full name, it’s your first name.” You corrected.

“Smartass,” he scoffed.

“I’ll only call you by those nicknames if you stop calling me Ms Grumpy,” you refuted.

“Well, Ms Grumpy. That’s never gonna happen.” he stated.

“Well, Tartaglia. I’ll never call you by a name other than Tartaglia.” you poked your tongue around him.

“Seriously stop calling me Tartaglia!” he complained more.

“It’s even that bad, do you know how ugly a nickname like Ms Grumpy is??” You retorted.

“I like it!” he said.

“Of course you do..” you sighed giving up this arguement.

And that was when he called you ‘Grumpy pants’. The amount of embarrassment you felt from that was unreal you just had walked away, he wasn’t worth talking too. But how did you unfortunately earn this nickname??

It all started when you were both 8, back in the 3rd Grade. Tartaglia was the new guy in class. He stood in the front of the class happily introducing himself with a bright grin.

He must have been really perceptive because he had noticed your sad, dull expression compared to everyone else in the room.

You were having a bad day because the science experience the day before had been cut short before it was your turn and you were still super sad about that.

You told your mum and she said she would buy the stuff for the experiment which was nice but you were still super upset about it. Since science experiments looked really cool when you were little kids. Now you dread science and their tests.

Tartaglia sat next to you and kept asking why you were so sad looking.

You rolled his eyes at him, wanting him to go away while you were busy sketching random things in your room.

“Hey! Ms Grumpy!” He called out, “I’m talking to you!!”

“Huh? Ms Grumpy?” You turned him.

“Yes you Grumpy pants! Actually I’m gonna called you Ms Grumpy since you don’t talk to me or tell your name.” he spoke with bad grammar.

“I don’t wanna be Ms Grumpy,” You frowned. You told him your name but he didn’t call you by that. He just kept calling you Ms Grumpy.

Tartaglia was the new kid which meant everyone in your class wanted to be friends with him. Since he was sitting next to you, it led people to believe you and Tartaglia were bestfriends so lots of people started talking to you more to be closer to him.

Well it worked for them. But you gained one friend, Scaramouche who ended up liking you for you but he was also at the time his bestfriend.

Although something eventually happened and he chose you over Tartaglia as you grew older. As time went on eventually he introduced you to more people and ever since then you, Scara, Yelan and Xiao were inseparable.

Normally you would never admit this but you were thankful to Tartaglia for the best bestfriend you could ever ask for because you quite literally had no friends since that day.

Tartaglia was always attached to you though. He would come up to you call you Ms Grumpy everytime he saw you.

You didn’t like him because he couldn’t understand you. He barely knew you and he was already calling you names.

He was also your neighbour, because when you got home that day you saw Tartaglia’s parents at your dinner table. You didn’t know they were his parents at the time but your mother told you there was someone waiting for you in your room.

It was Tartaglia jumping on your perfectly made pink bed.

“Stop jumping on my bed your gonna make it messy,” You pushed him. Luckily he fell onto the bed and not the floor.

He looked at you realising who you were. “Ms Grumpy!! I didn’t know this was your home.” You sighed. “Actually we live next to you!!”

Horror struck your face realising Tartaglia was now your neighbour which meant you would see him every morning, every night and every day.

Even though you disliked him, he was one of the people closest to you, literally not figuratively.

Ms Grumpy and Mr Sunshine - “no i’m not jealous!”

It was raining when you woke up, the thing that woke you up 10 mins before your alarm was about to go off was a notification from Tartaglia.

'rich kid tartaglia: hey ms grumpy its ur day today,'

'rich kid tartaglia: yk cuz its like raining.'

'rich kid tartaglia: ik ur reading this you have ur read reciepts on.'

'you: mb didnt notice'

'rich kid tartaglia: im texting u my ms grumpy msg bc im sick and not coming today.'

'you: thats too bad…'

'rich kid tartaglia: ik i cant see you today </3'

'rich kid tartaglia: it srsly breaks my heart i cant say ms grumpy to u in person.'

'you: nice talking to you tartaglia but i need to get ready for school'

'rich kid tartaglia: do well today!!'

'you: thanks' (rich kid tartaglia hearted this message!)

You sighed at your phone reading his message. You got up to get ready for school.

Despite his nickname for you, you didn’t really like the rain that much. You loved the sun. You hated it when rained because the mood was a lot more sadder and everything was wet and cold.

Instead of walking to school like you normally would, you had Scaramouche drive you to school. You hated walking in the rain. It was something you absolutely dreaded.

When you got to school it was absolutely freezing. The school was so poorly heated inside. All you did was shiver wherever you walked around.

Your friends were great people, maybe too great. Xiao had offered you his jacket but you knew he was gonna be cold so you politely declined him. But he insisted on making you warm so he had bought you hot chocolate from the canteen and where were you without Yelan?? Probably lost not knowing where any of your classes were. You normally had her walk you to class.

She had dropped you off at your next class since she had a different class. Scara, Yelan and Xiao all had classes together leaving you alone for this period.

You sat alone in this class but you didn’t care. Normally Tartaglia would try sit next to you but he wasn’t here today.

The class was extremely cold. Like freezing north pole snowing cold. There was boy who noticed. You’re pretty sure his name was like Lyney or something?

“Hey you look cold, you want my jacket?” He asked.

“No, I’m fine,” You lied, it was pretty obvious you lied.

He got up and sat in the empty seat next you. He didn’t have any friends in this class either. “I’m Lyney, incase you didn’t know. The one and only great magician Lyney.” he winked.

You tried to give his jacket back but he wouldn’t take it back.

You tell him your name but didn’t say anything more than that. Maybe thats what started his determination to talk to you.

He followed you around school and even walked with you when your friends were there.

Yelan had teased you a bit about him. But you ignored her. It was super awkward trying to talk to your friends with Lyney there following you like a lost puppy.

The next day you had class with him again too, Tartaglia wasn’t here again, he had messaged you saying he was super sick and of course greeting you with Ms Grumpy.

You had first period with Lyney, he had sat next to you. “Hey!! How are you,” He greeted you.

“I’m good,” You answered.

“Oh you responded,” He smiled. He kept on talking to you but you had absolutely no interest in him. You honestly just wanted him to shut up.

“Hey, I’m gonna be completely honest but I don’t really care so leave me alone.” It was honestly pretty mean but it’s on him for annoying you all day yesterday.

“Awwh, I just wanna be friends with you!” He begged.

“I don’t,”

“I’ll find a way to be friends with you then!” He said. Oh he was worse than Tartaglia…

All lesson he talked you nonstop, you nodding your head to everything he said not that you knew what he said. He could tell you weren’t really listening to him.

When you were walking to your next class with Scaramouche he had followed the both of you. Which is honestly super creepy but his determination was insane.

It was a problem, a problem for not only you but your friends.

Which meant a super late talk about it online.

'yelan !!: bro why is he following u around its kinda creepy.'

'you: he wants to be friends w me or smth'

'scara: how do we get rid of him??'

'xiaoao: maybe if u talked to him you could start building boundaries,'

'xiaoao: people care alot more when they feel like they are closer to someone'

'you: omg xiao thats so smart.'

'yelan !!: i dont get why he can’t just live you alone.'

'you: me too but hes so determined its scary.'

'scara: you should file a restraining order against him'

'you: woah calm urself its only been a day,'

'scara: and so days will turn into weeks’

'yelan !!: actually i think xiaos idea doesnt seem so bad lets try that.'

'yelan !!: okay its late i gtg sleep i need my beauty rest'

'scara: idk ab u guys but i get super bad vibes ab him.'

'you: me too but ig i gotta talk to him.. its fine i’ll be alright whats the worse that could happen??'

Yea, what was the worse that could happen? That was something for you to find out later.

The next day when you had class with him you ended up talking to him. He wasn’t that bad to talk to at all. He was so happy you were talking to him.

“Okay, and this is,” He points to something you don’t know or understand but you just wanted to get his class over and done with.

When class ended Lyney didn’t follow you and your friends around. So Xiao’s plan had worked.

You actually wanted Tartaglia to come back and sit with you so Lyney wouldn’t talk as much.

But when Tartaglia didn’t come to school for the entire week, you and Lyney actually got unexpectedly close.

You started to genuinely enjoy talking to Lyney and completely forgot about Tartaglia’s messages about you being Ms Grumpy.

You and Lyney hung out a lot and your friends even started to get use to him coming over. Yelan and Xiao even started enjoying Lyney’s tricks.

You and Lyney became super close ever since that week without Tartaglia. He became the person you enjoyed sitting with in that class.

But things weren’t great for Tartaglia, the feeling Tartaglia felt when he came back to school to see you with Lyney was a feeling he didn’t like. And he couldn’t seem to understand why.

He didn’t like seeing you with Lyney, getting along so well with him when you never did with him. He understood why you both never got to hang out like that and still regrets giving you that nickname in a way but it was his special nickname for you.

You felt like Tartaglia was finally distancing himself away from you. Which was a relief for you. But Tartaglia didn’t like the distance he had put. It felt insufferable and he didn’t understand why he did it.

It took a while for Tartaglia to figure out why but he finally understood he was stuck in his own love triangle, and he was not the one you were gonna end up with.

Hell, he didn’t even know he liked you?? How will he ever get over this??

Ms Grumpy and Mr Sunshine - “understood, me?”

It was maybe one of the worse days ever for Tartaglia but it was truly one of the best days ever for you.

Teyvat High’s Prom was coming soon, you and Yelan had been going windowshopping recently looking at clothes you could buy. But there was no one to take you since Xiao and Yelan are going together as friends and Scaramouche isn’t too fond of social events.

Lyney had been planning something for ages with your friends. What they were planning you had no idea? But they were all in the same class and in a group project together so you had assumed it was just that.

You were wrong, but it wasn’t the bad wrong. It was a nice surprise maybe too nice? Honestly you didn’t know what to think about it.

While you were walking down the hallway with Tartaglia teasing you, calling you Ms Grumpy, a party popper appeared at his feet and exploded right in front of him which made you let out a giggle.

Suddenly the hallway was filled with confetti set by Lynette, Freminet had appeared holding a bouquet of Rainbow Roses as Xiao pushed you towards a sign held up by Yelan, “Will you go to the Prom with me?”

Overwhelmed by the surprised Lyney approaches you grabbing your hand and placing a gentle kiss on it, you didn’t want to reject him out loud so you whispered into his ear and told him “I’ll think about it,” with a smile on your face.

Everyone around thought you had accepted his promposal, everyone including Tartaglia who had to put a smile on his face and clap along with everyone else who was watching this go down.

‘Top 10 embarrassing promposals…’ you thought in your head, ‘Where was Scaramouche at? That’s fishy’ you thought.

You tried to look for an opportunity to get away from the crowd in the hallway, people were talking to you and Lyney taking videos of the scene.

“Ms Grumpy,” Tartaglia called out to you, “This is a little bit embarrassing but my dad’s car broke down so I desperately need your parents to drive me home,” He explained quickly followed by dragging you out of the hallway.

“Wait, I never agreed to driving you home,” you yanked his hand off yours.

“I know, I was just lying. Did you like my preformance,” He gave you a teasing grin. He was mocking Lyney.

“You don’t like being recorded right? So I figured as the nice boy next door i’d get you out of such a situation.” he recalled.

“No need to thank me. If I had a promposal as embarrassing as that I’d be begging for someone to get me out of there. Seriously I didn’t think anyone would do that.” he rambled obnoxiously.

“Well I’m going home.” you cut him off mid ramble. “And even though you told me not to thank you, thanks I guess,” you glanced back at Tartaglia for a second before heading home.

You were lying in bed messaging Scara.

'you: bro where were u?'

'scara: didnt wana get involved soz'

'scara: so hows it going????'

'you: tbh i wanted to reject him but not infront of everyone.'

'you: people were recording us it was so uncomfy :( '

'you: tartaglia got me out of it im kinda surprised'

'scara: im not, sounds like smth he would do.'

'you: nah pretty sure he js wanted to shit on lyney'

'scara: well ig that could be an answer.'

'scara: are you gonna keep ignoring the gc orrr??'

'you: i muted them and lyney i havent checked.'

- 15 messages from 'were not emos' -

- 4 messages from 'lyney' -

- 1 missed called from 'lyney' -

'you: omds its 19 missed messages and 1 missed call altogether…'

'scara: only one missed call they going easy on u lol'

'you: fml'

You put the phone down and closed your eyes. Maybe it was better to just sleep. You didn’t feel like responding. If you just message them in the morning you doubt they would even respond.

You tried to sleep, shutting off at 10pm only to wake up to 2 calls at 1am, you must have forgetten to turn your phone back on mute after playing mobile games for a bit.

- 2 missed calls from 'were not emos' -

You’re phone started ringing again, you were tired and pissed they interrupted your sleep so you decided to pick up and hear out what the have to say

“y/n what the hell??” Yelan’s voice spoke up. “yea what was that about?” Xiao asked.

“Wha-? What was what about?” you answered half awake. “No you know what that was about you completely ignored Lyney’s confession do you understand how much of a bitchass move that was.” Yelan berated you.

“Oh hop off her dick Yelan, she didn’t have to answer shit.” Scaramouche interrupted her.

“Scara where were you? I thought you were gonna help us out. She’s your bestfriend wouldn’t you help her get a date or are you inlove with her,” Xiao said, “Inlove are you crazy, fuck off.” Scara scoffed.

“Xiao what on earth are you on, listen Scara and me are like siblings— what is wrong with you guys why would you force a confession on me.” you stood up for yourself. “I was uncomfortable, and I don’t need to explain myself if it bothers you so much then don’t talk to me.”

“y/n c’mon don’t be like that, you’ve probably made Lyney a laughing stock—” you cut her off. “Shut up! Are you seriously taking Lyney’s side just because I didn’t reciprocate his feelings???? What kind of friends are you,” you were in slight tears from how tired you were and how absurd you’re closest friends were being.

“You guys are so cruel to y/n, im off to sleep.” Scara left the group call. You left too and left the groupchat. Why on earth were they so focused on Lyney’s feelings while completely disregarding yours, it hurt even more knowing those were your closest friends.

You drifted off to sleep, every message you got you ignored.

You woke up to your alarm, you checked your phone spams from Yelan and Xiao, Lyney’s messages were just hateful and Scara had left the groupchat. You’re friend group just broke up over a boy and it just left you mentally drained.

Getting up slowly and trying to get ready, you just couldn’t. After last night you didn’t feel comfortable with the atmosphere. You were dressed up and ready but you could only take a step out the door.

“Yo, y/n! You don’t look too great,” A voice coming from your side called out your name, “y-y/n..?!” you stammered out from shocked.

“Yeah, it’s your name isn’t it?” He walked over to you. “I don’t know it just surprised me that you’d call me by my name.” you admitted

“You wanna skip? You seem out of it let’s get some frozen yogurt!” Tartaglia grabbed your hand and turning you in the direction of the shops. “Live a little! If you’re not comfortable just hanging out with me, we can call Scaramouche.”

“No, its fine. Let’s eat!” a smile appeared on your face as your steps fall in line with his.

“You have a pretty smile,” …

“Thank you, Tartaglia,”

#tartaglia #childe #ajax #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiangling #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia genshin #tartaglia genshin impact #childe x reader #childe genshin #childe genshin impact #oneshot #xreader #❥ lyneys4 【oneshot】

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elumish · 3 days

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I talk about what writers should do a lot, so now I'm going to take a break and talk about some reforms that I think agents should make.

A caveat: I am not an agent! Unlike when I talk about writing, I am just talking about this as an author who happens to be in the midst of querying. If I have an followers who are agents who think I'm getting something wrong, please let me know!

That said, here I go:

Trad publishing is, fundamentally, about getting past a whole bunch of layers of gatekeepers, and agents are the first gatekeepers. With some very limited exceptions, you can't be trad published without having an agent. From what I can tell, being an agent is a bit of a thankless job--it's based on commission, so an agent only gets money if they are selling their clients' books. (Remember: the money flows towards the writer. If someone claiming to be an agent is telling you that you need to pay them to represent you, run.)

Because of this structure, agents have a massive amount of power over unagented authors, particularly because unagented authors simply do not have another option if they want to trad publish. It is my opinion that that power dynamic is part of the reason why querying actually sucks so unbelievably much for authors.

Now, part of why querying sucks is that it's a numbers game, which means that most of us will lose. Every writer is competing against a gazillion other writers, some of whom are better or writing things that are seen as more sellable or happen to be eariler or whatever. You are going to get a bunch of rejections, and that's not the fault of agents.

But here's the other problem:

There are, from what I can tell, no true industry standards and somewhat limited professional expectations for agents when it comes to how to deal with querying. Again, this is what it looks like from the outside--agents, if I'm getting this wrong, please let me know.

For example, many agencies and many agents will have different rules about what you can submit to them and how, and in many cases those rules are in somewhat arbitrary places, which means that querying authors have to hunt for them, and it's easy to run afoul of them even when you're trying. It's common for some agencies to say that you can't query two agents from the same agency at the same time, but some say that you can't query two agents from them ever--a rejection from one is a rejection from all.

But most agents' Twitter bios/MSWL pages/personal pages/etc. don't say that--which means that authors need to hunt through every individual agency's webpage and then cross-reference against every agent that they have ever queried previously, which can be arduous when many people are querying dozens or hundreds of agents. It also means needing to keep track of things like when agents switch agencies.

There are also no standard expectations for agents to actually respond to queries in any sort of time span, or at all, which complicates the above issue even more. But it also is just (imho) kind of unprofessional to ghost people who are seeking a professional relationship with you, when you have explicitly asked them to reach out to you seeking that professional relationship.

And to make that worse, many agents don't say whether or not they respond to all queries, meaning that authors are often left wondering if a 6-month or longer wait is a "no" or an "I haven't gotten to this yet but will definitely respond to you."

There are more issues that I could cite, but my overall point in this is that authors have no recourse here. There's not authors' union, no way to go on strike until agents change what they're doing.

And some agents are really awesome about this! But enough are not, and authors don't really know what they're going to get when they query someone.

So all of this is to say that, if you are an agent, here are some fairly easy changes I would love for you to make to your own behavior to make querying a little bit less of a nightmarish hellscape for authors (and thank you so much if you already do some or all of these):

Respond to every query that you receive

Tell people your general response times and be communicative if that changes. It's okay if it regularly takes you six months! Just tell us it regularly takes you six months, so we're not left wondering if we've been ghosted at four months

Outline all submission guidelines on Query Manager or where you accept queries, including things like a) rules about whether a rejection from one is a rejection from all, b) length expectations for things like synopses (I've seen a range), and c) any other expectations you have (e.g., you require trigger warnings). Don't make people hunt through 2-4 websites to find what you want

Stop asking or at least strongly rethink how you ask about Own Voices or why an author feels like they are qualified to write about a marginalized identity--I understand the impulse, but nobody should be expected to disclose medical or other personal information like that in a professional setting

Also, just to say (other than please don't reject my query because of this post), agents: authors really do appreciate the work you all do. I want someone to work with to get published, because I am very well aware that I am not the expert in this situation.

And again, please tell me if I got anything wrong or misrepresented anything.

#publishing #traditional publishing #querying

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f4iry-bell · 2 days

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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝟏

pairing: popula!jameson hawthorne x nerd/goodgirl!reader

summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.

warning: jamie being a slight jerk, very little. little over the top reader(?)

series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven (lmk if you want to be added!)

a/n: IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS WHOLE THING, YAY. a lot of jerk jamie in this fuc guys. sorry;(

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | series master list

“Did you just take a picture of me?” The tone and how sharp it was so surprising to the two boys to her side, one with the camera, and one with a stupid smile.

“Maybe.” The boy who was holding the camera didn't take her frowned brows, and dagger throwing eyes at him seriously. No one really takes her seriously, most of the time she is just invisible but definitely not today.

“Delete it.” She demanded, taking a step closer.

“Aw, don't want others to see your pretty face?” The boy holding the camera teased her, and then turned to his green eyes friend with a stupid smirk.

“I said, delete it.” she demanded again, this time more serious and firm than before.

“Or what?”

“I'll sue you. I'll take you to court, but before that I would like to formally inform the student body for violating my privacy, and I'm pretty sure you'd be dealt with by the faculty.” She didn't blink once, she adjusted her glasses after ending her threat.

“Woah, now let's not go there, princess” the green-eyed boy took a step forward with his hands in front in defense. “We don't want trouble.”

“She's bluffing.” The idiot with the camera said.

“She's not.” The other guy said without taking his gaze away from her face. And he is right. She's not bluffing.

The idiot was looking at her face, scanning to see what the other guy was seeing. “Alright, I'll delete it. I was just taking random pictures of the campus anyway.”

She was waiting for him to do it, but he didn't do it, yet. “Do it, right now.”

“I'll delete it later.” He said.

“Delete it now, Cory.” The green-eyed spoke, she almost thought he was a decent guy. Almost, until he spoke again. “We don't want our front row princess to tell on us to her teacher, now do we?” His lips curved up to a stupid, irritating smirk.

Her face could have sworn it was hot as hell from all the anger if it was possible. Cory finally deleted it, and showed her. “There, happy now?”

She didn't reply, just turned and walked away from them. She could feel as though her skin was being burnt because she knew that a pair of beautiful green eyes was staring at her as she walked away.

Two weeks have passed since this incident. Jameson has forgotten about it or so he thought, he did see her in class and think about how different she was that day from how she acts in class, she almost speaks to no one other than the professor to ask for doubts or questions. He wondered if she even has friends, with her introverted personality, and quick to try and sue anyone who would want to be friends with her? Or the real question is, does she want to be friends with anyone at all?

Yeah, she probably hates everyone. But why is it taking psychology? Maybe that's not her major, he wondered what her major would be. It's definitely not psychology, because he can't imagine her as a psychologist. Maybe she majors in business, but then again, why would she take psych?

Why are his thoughts filled with her and her life? She is no one. She is just some girl passing by, a girl who happened to be more than just what she shows. He knows that, Jameson knows how to read people. Even before his psychology classes, he was not as good as his brother but he is good, and he can read her, just a little more time with her, and he'll have a master degree on her.

The next couple days Jameson skipped psychology classes because he couldn't help but stare and observe her, it was getting ridiculous to the point that even Dean who sleeps in class noticed it. For two days Jameson spent psychology class hours on the rooftop, he has done this on Heights Country High, why not in Yale too? But today was different, the door’s latch was already open, and the door was about 4 inches open.

He pushes past the door and saw someone standing near the edge, at first he thought this was a suicide attempt, but the person was calm, quiet, looking everywhere with a notepad on one hand and a pen on the other. The person was a girl who wore her hair up in a ponytail, her skirt was moving in the direction of the wind, he knew who it was. He could never forget her back profile.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite front row princess.” He regretted speaking out of the blue because it scared her to the point she jerked up, she could have fallen.

“Fuck!” She yelped.

“You know how to curse?” He teased her.

“Yes, asshole. I’m not 2.” She rolled her eyes when she turned to see who it was.

He smiled. “Never thought I'd see the day where you'd skip classes. Or are you stalking me?”

“Last I checked, I was here first. So, are you stalking me?” she asked.

“I've been here for a couple days, princess. What are you doing here?” He answered and asked the question out of curiosity.

“What are you doing here?”

“You first.”

“No.”

“I'll figure it out on my own.” He said and started to observe, she was writing something down before he interrupted her. He can't figure it out, it's too vague, maybe if she gave her notepad he could get something.

She was quicker than him, she somehow figured that he was about to snatch her notepad from her, and was on her guard.

“Come on. How about we make a deal, yeah? You tell me why you are skipping class and hanging out with yourself on the rooftop, and I'll owe you one.” He tried.

“How do I know that you'd actually keep your word?” She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes.

“A Hawthorne never not keep his word.” He said it out proudly. Something to be proud of from that name.

“Right, you're a Hawthorne.” She added. “Why are you so determined to know why I'm here? You get nothing out of it, and yet you're saying you'll owe me one.” She was questioning whether or not to agree to this deal. Having Jameson Hawthorne owe you one is a vid deal.

“I'm a man of mysteries. I also tend to like mysteries. And you, princess? One hell of a mystery. I figured that much two weeks ago when you threatened to sue my friend.” He smiled, taking a step closer. “So? What do you say? Deal?” He asked.

She sighed. “For my journalism class, I have to write about something new…something that is ‘not in my bubble’ as my professor worded it, hence the rooftop.”

Jameson’s face was pulled together in confusion. “Still a bit vague. Are you going to try to fly?”

She rolled her eyes which made him smile. “No. Just looking at people from a different perspective. I don't think I can go out of my bubble but I can always observe people from different angles and be them for a while to write a different story. Sounds a bit stupid but it'll work. And I'll get an A.”

Jameson noticed how her eyes sparkled when she said ‘I'll get an A.” It made him smile even wider.

“That's still not doing what your professor asked.” He pointed it out.

“But it's not the same repetitive story as before. It's new, so.” She shrugged.

Jameson was quiet for a while. “You said you can't go out of your bubble. Is it can't or won't?”

She just glared at him as if he lied about something. Ironically he only told the truth.

“See? You don't even try, and say you can't.”

“It's not easy for me, okay? If I do new things out of the blue, people will stare at me, look at me weirdly or bully me too. I can't just step out of my bubble like that. Even if people are nice, it's me. I'm awkward, and just stupid when it comes to socialising or anything that's not just academics, and some extracurriculars that I do.” She let out a quick sigh before shaking her head.

“So stupid. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.” She murmured.

Jameson was quiet for a few seconds. “I'll tell you what. I said I owe you one, right? How about this; I help you get out of your bubble. I'll help you socialise and all that stuff, stuff that are not you. I'll help you with them.”

“When you owe someone it's up to them to decide what it is.” She said with a little sass.

“I know, princess. But think about it. It's a good one. I'm just suggesting, it's up to you.” He took another step, now only two feet away from her with his hands extended in front. “Deal?”

She bit her lips out of frustration.

Jameson chuckled. “Take it or leave it. Don't need to kill yourself over it.” But he wanted her to take it, so bad.

She let go of her bottom lips, and relaxed her shoulders. She passed the pen to the other hand, holding both the notepad and pen in one, she spoke “deal.”

Her soft palm met his and shook gently. The touch shouldn't have sent goosebumps to Jameson but it did.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #xander hawthorne #avery grambs #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the grandest game #Jameson hawthorne fanfic

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smoothriverrocksrock · 2 days

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GOD I WOULD KILL FOR TF1 DECEPTICON BEE!! The thought of him not wanting to leave Megatron alone after something so horrific warms my heart. I need a fic of them becoming friends. (do you have any more headcanons?)

I really hope to get to writing a fic for this, and I’ll definitely link it if I do! Kinda busy with other fics tho and since one is close to finishing I wanna start it after I’m done with that one

Well first and most obvious headcanon is that Bee has to have some MAJOR respect for D-16/Megatron purely because of that scene with him standing up to Sentinel. Genuinely, seeing Bee watch that had me in the theaters wondering why tf Bee would be horrified by D-16 killing him. B-127 is a better person than me because of I saw one of my friends get CARVED INTO it would be my last straw

My main idea for a Decepticon tf1 Bee story kinda looks like this (warning this gets LONG):

-He sees Megatron and the High Guard leaving, and he can’t believe it. He just got a friend group, he can’t just let it split apart! Especially not like this!

-With a quick number exchange, Bee tells Elita that he’s going with Megatron and it’s nothing personal he just wants to stay with him ok byeeeee

-Elita is kinda baffled, and Optimus absolutely takes it personally but in a sad “wait what if I’m in the wrong, oh no, now I lost two friends” way. Optimus wants to go after him and Megatron but Elita stops him. They both agree it’s probably best to give them all space and let Bee try and figure it out

-Megatron is also baffled that this guy is coming with him, but he feels relieved that at least *someone* familiar agrees with him. He won’t admit it tho, it’s a cold comfort after everything else that’s happened

-The High guard doesn’t really care rn, they just got banished (AGAIN!) and a friend of their new leader is probably good enough to keep around

-I imagine some of them are probably injured (most importantly Megatron), so Soundwave helps them highjack a train where they can take temporary shelter, get supplies/food, and rest. Starscream finds out the base got blown up and appropriately grieves about the loss of his awesome throne. Shockwave is revealed to be the best thing they have to a doctor. Rough times.

-Bee keeps trying to get Megatron to talk about what just happened, but he refuses. Bee eventually talks about how horrible sublevel 50 was because of the isolation, and promises Megatron that he won’t leave him alone

-Still cold comfort to Megatron. He just lost his longest companion, and he knows Bee could never compare. Bee also realizes this, but he’s trying his best

Lotta places the story could go from there, but I wanna keep it as a “Bumblebee inadvertently becomes the moral backbone of the Decepticons” type of story. I also wanna clarify that Bee is still totally down for murder, he just convinces Megatron to keep the guns pointed at the Quintessons for now

He also shares soooo much Decepticon gossip to Optimus and Elita, but never anything that could ever compromise the Decepticons. He’ll be like “You’ll NEVER guess what Skywarp just said today” and Elita will ask for boring stuff like “where are you based” and “are you eating enough” and Bumblebee refuses to have his friendships compromised by politics. Optimus appreciates this, and does the same. Eventually Elita will conform and send him memes

Also Soundwave and Bee become scout friends. This is the law. Bee is one of the only people who will contribute to the community playlist

#Me asks mateys #transformers one spoilers #transformers #macadam #b-127 #bumblebee #megatron #d-16

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yourstarstruckbeloved · 3 hours

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your face goes so incredibly red when you process everything that happened in the past few minutes since kinich saved your ass and you begin sputtering out an apology. “i’m so- i’m so sorry about that it just happened and i wasn’t thinking and just—”

“it’s fine. although, i think i’d want to make you pay me extra for all of... that.” he says nonchalantly, eyes fixed on the path ahead. and quite honestly, you couldn’t care any less. all that matters is that kinich saved you and he definitely deserved the extra. the air between the two of you falls silent.

you decide to break it. “uh, so did the chief. you know. ask you to...” he hums in affirmation before responding. “yes, and i must say it was quite stupid of you to turn back.” his statement makes you flush with embarrassment once more. you even feel a tiny bit offended if you were to be frank, but he was not wrong. you should not have turned around at all.

“i know...” you grumble. “it’s just, i don’t think i would’ve been able to best him in any other situation either.”

“if you hadn’t tried to pull anything i could have just gotten done with it with none of that fuss.”

“how the hell was i supposed to know you were tailing me?” you retort. you feel a pang of guilt within and you bite your lip. “...i’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that! i’ll make it up to you however i can!” you say, hoping he takes your offer because you REALLY didn’t have the extra mora to spare.

“wait, i wasn’t being serious,” kinich turns to look at you. he was only half joking, never intending to charge you any extra since technically he carried out whatever wayna commissioned him to. “but i could always cash in the favour another time, i guess.”

taglist !

@yuriisclumsy @fandomfan-102 @jiminscarmex @keiiqq

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#genshin x reader #genshin impact #kinich x you #kinich #kinich x reader #fake dating

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drunkenbagel · 22 hours

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Hi,can u do prompt 3 and 5 with pedro cause i loved the last one u did😍

thank you for reading!! hope you like it :) xx

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actor/actress gn!reader Word count: 1,9k Contents: mentions of minor injuries (slight blood mentions, fainting, bruising, etc), mostly fluff

“Can you repeat my line again? I'm not my best today, sorry”

A girl behind the cameras held your script up and repeated your line once more. At this point you were feeling overwhelmed, having to repeat the short scene so many times just because your mind didn't focus. Even more since this was a big project, so on top of that you felt ashamed and anxious.

Finally, the scene went ahead and everything went as planned, getting to the next scene, which was a fight one.

One, two three, four. One two, three. One, two, three, four. You counted your steps and movements, rehearsing. One, two-

“Watch out!”

You heard the yell before the cracking sound, and while you looked up you saw one of the lights come off of the ceiling.

Uh-oh.

-·-·-·-

Pedro had heard from some people on the crew that someone in the studio next to theirs had an accident, and immediately spiraled into worry. You were in that area. There's many people there, it can't be her. The studios are huge. Yeah, no. It's definitely not her. Yet he couldn't concentrate. He threw the script into the table and hopped off the chair, determined to ease his worries.

“I'm goin' to the other studio, alright? I'll come back before the break is over” he said to one of the crew members.

He started to walk to the door that led outside, and he noticed how more and more people were whispering while walking from the other studio to the one he was in. That made him more nervous, and he started walking faster. When he pushed the door, he was immediately greeted by the sight of a few ambulances and a crowd of people standing around all over the place. That's when he saw a couple of paramedics wheeling you to the ambulance. Bloody.

His heart sank and he swore it skipped a few beats. Before he could register it he was running to the ambulance, shoving some people around to get inside before they carried you away. He jumped in.

“Sir you can't be in here unless-”

“I'm family”

The other paramedic shut the door after receiving a nod from the one that was on the truck with you, and started to drive to the hospital. He couldn't do anything but watch as the man started to change the bloody cloth he was pressing onto your forehead, which was reeling with blood. Pedro took your hand.

“What's going on? What the hell happened?”

“Apparently a few of the stage lights fell off and landed on some people, most of them without major injuries, except for her” he answered, while putting some oxygen tubes around your nose and trying to stop the head wound from bleeding. “Got the worst deal, seems like it broke some ribs, got hit pretty bad on the head. We'll know more about the internal injuries when we get from the hospital.”

The ride felt like they took the longest way to the hospital. Once they arrived, they wheeled you back out and into the ER.

“Sir, you can't go in there” a nurse said, stopping Pedro with a hand on his chest. He just watched as they took you to the area where only staff could cross. He pointed at the seats a few meters away. “You can wait in the waiting area”

If he thought the ride was the worst, he was completely mistaken. The wait was killing him. He got a few calls from the director and colleagues, asking where he was, but all he could do is give them some half-assed answers of why he wouldn't be coming back. The anxiety was eating him. He couldn't stop pacing back and forth, picking at his nails, waiting for someone to bring any news. When a doctor finally called your name, he looked up and almost ran to him.

“How are they?” he asked anxiously.

“Stable. There's a minor concussion, but nothing too serious luckily. They have been admitted to the hospital, I can take you to the room, if you'd like”

He followed the doctor to the room, and when he opened the door, his heart sank to his stomach. There you were, unconscious, bandaged and bruised, machine beeping steadily.

“They may not wake up for a few days, but that is normal. We'll be monitoring them constantly” she said, seeing the anxious look on his face. “You can stay as much as you'd like. Got a chair, the bathroom and the small sofa. Figured you might want to sleep next to her”

Pedro thanked the doctor and walked over to the bed and delicately brushed your hair away from your face, seeing the bruising on one of the sides. Fuck, you looked battered. He pulled the chair closer and took your hand on his, waiting for you to wake up.

-·-·-·-

Everything hurt. Even with your eyes closed, you felt like a truck had ran you over. Then you remembered the accident. Ah, shit.

You slowly opened your eyes, trying not to be blinded by the white light. The beeping sound was drilling into your head, making the heavy headache worse. With a sigh, you went to push the button to call a doctor and see if they could turn it off, but you couldn't, since your hand was feeling very heavy.

Please don't be a cast.

When you looked at it with painfully squinting eyes, you found the source of the weight: Pedro was laying his upper body on the side of the bed, and his hand was on yours. You couldn't help but smile. He looked so soft with his curly hair everywhere, lips parted in a slight snore. You ran your free hand by his hair, looking lovingly at him. He looked quite tired and a bit dishevelled, too. That made you frown. You looked behind him to find a blanket on the small sofa. Since when was he here? Since when were you here?

Like as to answer your questions, a nurse came in with a chart to check on you. When she looked up and saw you awake, she smiled.

“Hey, glad to see you've woken up. Got ya' man here worried sick” she said as she approached you and started looking at your screens.

“If it's not much of a bother, can you take the beeping machine off? It's killing my head” you mustered, trying to seat up in pain.

“Oh sure sugar, you got a big hit to the head, and these things can be annoying, but just glad you're awake” she said as she turned the machine silent. You sighed in relief. “How you feelin'?”

“Like I got smashed by a giant stage light” you answered with smile, sighing. You clutched your side in pain, noticing the bandages. “What day is it? How long have I been here?”

“You got here a almost a week ago, been sleepin' for the entirety of it. But the handsome man you've got there has not left your side for a second. Got here at the same time as you in the ambulance.”

“He got hurt too?” you worriedly asked.

“Oh no sugar, he got here with you as a visitor. Poor thing was worried sick when you were in the staff area being attended to” she said with a smile. “You've got a good one there. Is he your husband?”

You lowered your eyes to look at him and unconsciously smiled. “No, no. Gosh, I wish. Just... Uh, just my best friend”

“Well if my boyfriend waited that long without leavin' my side I would definitely put a ring on him” she said with a cheeky smile. “But anyways, how's your head? Any dizziness, nausea, blurry vision?”

“No, only a bit of ringing in my ears at first but that is gone now. Just the hammering headache” you answered as she took out a small light and looked at your eyes.

“Well, your pupils are workin' fine so that's a good signal. Now that you've woken up, we'll keep you in observation for a little while more, but you should be good to go in a couple of days.”

“That's good” said a raspy voice on your left. You turned your head to find a sleepy looking Pedro, still holding your hand. “Hello darlin', good to see you're finally awake”

You smiled and hugged him as the nurse left the room.

“Why are you here? Nurse told me it's been almost a week! You should have gone home” you scolded him, but with a soft voice. “And your filming! Have you really been here all this time?”

“Yeah. And I'm not gonna say sorry for it. Went home once to get some clothes, the old ones were starting to smell” he said with a smile. “You'd be damn crazy if you thought I would leave you”

“Have I ever told you how you're the best friend in the whole world?”

“Sometimes, yes” he said with a chuckle. “Um, about that... I kind of heard you and the nurse”

Oh no. You felt your cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

“I- It was a joke, I... I was joking” you said, laughing nervously.

“What if I told you that I didn't want it to be a joke? If you meant it seriously?” he said, swallowing hard, holding your hand a bit tighter. “Would you... What would you say to that?”

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get an answer out, just stammering. “I- uhm, I-”

Pedro felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest with all the loud thumping in his ears. Maybe he shouldn't have asked? Maybe it was a joke? Unfortunately, there was no turning back.

“What would your answer be if I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

You froze. “W- what?”

He took a deep breath while closing his eyes. When he exhaled, his eyes met yours again. “I love you. I've liked you for a long time. Probably since the first time we met. This accident made me realize that I can't stop denying it, and I- I just need to know. If you don't, I'll never bring it up again and I'll be your friend. I can do that. I will, if that's what you want me to. And, shit, I know this is a lot to take in, and probably not the best of places to confess, but I can't go on anymore without an answer”

There was a silence between the two of you. Not a sound came from your throat, mouth staying agape. Pedro sighed, and he let your hand go with his eyes closed.

“I underst-”

“Ask me again”

He opened his eyes to find you looking at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. “I... What?”

“Ask me again”

Pedro hesitated. “Would- would you like to be my girlfriend?”

The couple of seconds that you waited to answer felt like an eternity to him, but seeing your smile turn into a grin and a little laugh made his heart stop.

“I thought you'd never ask. Come here” you said, yanking him by his shit to your level, and joined your lips together.

It felt electrifying. Kissing him after so long of being just friends, so many fantasies, so many dreams, felt like the best thing ever. When you softy pulled away and opened your eyes, you were met with his big brown eyes almost tearing up.

“Hey” you said, cupping his face with one of your hands. “Are you alright? Wanna take it back?”

“Never in my wildest dreams.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #rpf #fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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