One of my friends and I have a quarterly cocktails-and-conversation (and window shopping) date at Nordstrom. (They make great cocktails!)
The other day we’re there and we’ve had our couple of cocktails and I’m busy chortling about a designer dress that NO LIE was the same cut/style as the $50 eShakti dress I was wearing ONLY THIS ONE COST ALMOST 2700 DOLLARS, and just as we’re about to leave, the eager store employee, who’s been circling around us like a bird of prey spotting a kill, runs over to us and says to me, “I just need to show you this coat! It would go perfectly with your dress!”
I, smiling in that pleasant oh man I only come for the cocktails I can’t afford anything else here way, follow him to the scary side of the store where they have all the crazy designer stuff, you know, in those little nooks?
And he pulls down this pink coat. A VALENTINO pink coat, and I’m internally oh honey but externally letting him slide the coat on me.
Like, okay. It was fine? (My friend knows sewing and was absolutely HORRIFIED that this coat had finished seams but was UNLINED.) I mean. It was a coat? The fabric was nice?
But I’m like, “Oh, too bad, it doesn’t fit quite right, but you’re right, it does match this dress! Thank you for showing it to me!” (Because you gotta be nice, right? This guy’s got a thankless job.)
We leave. And then realize we didn’t even look at the price tag. (An oversight, clearly.)
Me being me, I immediately start to Googling.
I HAD A COAT THAT RETAILS FOR $11000 USD (YES YOU’RE READING THAT RIGHT) over my three-seasons-ago eShakti sundress that has seen better days???
Summary: I was watching Modern Family S01E15 and got inspired with the whole roleplaying going on between Claire and Phil. Word Count: 2,424 Warnings: Roleplaying, unprotected sex, dirty talk. A/N: No one is ever gonna look at me the same again, HAH. First time writing smut, so be gentle please! Also, leave feedback pretty please so I know you guys don’t hate me for this hahaha. Probably gonna delete this. xxx
You swirled your pick around in your Martini glass, teeth tucked into your lower lip as you rocked your leg back and forth where it was crossed over your other one as you sat on the high barstool. The hotel restaurant was prestigious, swanky, way out of your comfort zone but tonight it was the perfect setting.
It didn’t take you long before a tall, toned man approached you. You raised your eyes to meet his hazel ones, lips pulling into a soft smile.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked, voice low enough for only you to hear.
You glanced at the barstool beside you, quickly bringing your eyes back to his. His eyes were averted downward and you quickly realized that he was sweeping his eyes over your long legs that were exposed, stopping on the black Louboutin heels that you’d gotten gifted to you on last year’s Valentine’s Day. They fit you perfectly and they went well with the black dress that you were wearing.
“It is now,” you drawled, watching his eyes light up a tad bit as he moved to pull back the barstool so he could squeeze in, rough large hands smoothing over his suit, sitting down with a huff. “So what brings you here?”
Hello there, can I ask for a #11, wintershock pleaseeeee???? :)
whoops, my fingers slipped.
no but for real, i’m not even going to apologize for the length of this one. i think it’s my favorite wintershock one-shot i’ve ever written. i hope you love it too. ❤️ ❤️
Darcy was exploring a lively Bucharest market the first time she saw him. He was haggling with a merchant over the price of some type of fruit, which wasn’t out of the ordinary here. But what drew her eye was that he kept shifting anytime someone walked by him, like he couldn’t stand to have his back unprotected. Maybe too many world disasters had left her paranoid, but she had a weird feeling about him. And then he turned and caught her staring, and she was swept up in an entirely different kind of feeling.
She felt bad about the staring, she really did, but the man was the most attractive male specimen she’d seen in months—hell, maybe years, or even her entire lifetime. He had a cap pulled low over his face, but she felt his piercing stare all the way across the marketplace. It sent pleasant shivers skittering down her spine, and she decided that even if he was trouble, she wouldn’t mind a helping. Or two, or three. She grinned at him, partly in apology and partly because it was impossible not to try and see what a smile would look like on that face.
But instead of returning the gesture, the frown lines around his mouth deepened even further, and he turned back to the vendor. His thumbs hooked around the straps of his backpack as he moved, hitching it protectively up his spine. Darcy shrugged and turned back to her perusal of the handmade jewelry. She couldn’t be everyone’s type, she supposed. Some sabbatical this was turning out to be.
The next time she saw him, it was at a market across town. It might be more appropriate to say that he saw her, actually; she was hunting through a bin of plums, trying to find the ripe, sweet ones that she loved so much. She was minding her business, trying to remember any advice her mom had given her on testing ripeness, when a quiet voice at her shoulder said, “Not that one. It isn’t ripe.” The softly-spoken English startled her so badly she jumped, dropping the plum. A quick hand darted out to catch it as it fell, putting it back in the bin.
It was the beautiful man from before. She’d never forget that face.
“Excuse me?” she asked, finally finding her voice. Up close, she could see that his eyes were an electric blue. They bored into her, as if he was dissecting her character, ripping it apart and reassembling the pieces. It was a strange sensation to have, standing over a table of fruit.
He must’ve liked something he saw, because he blinked and his whole posture just seemed to…settle. Stepping in—and wow, that mix of leather and mint was intoxicatingly attractive, making her head swim—he jerked his chin toward the vendor and murmured near her ear, “That plum wasn’t ripe. And the vendor in this market always overprices his produce.”
He took a step away and paused, clearly expecting her to join him. Zipping up her wallet, she smiled apologetically at the vendor—who was clearly muttering unflattering things under his breath about the stranger—and stepped away from the table. Oh, what the hell. If she got murdered for this, at least it would be by the hottest guy she’d ever seen, she thought, and immediately grimaced. The stranger eyed her curiously, like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.
“So,” she said, smiling broadly, appreciating the way his eyes flickered down to her mouth for the briefest of moments, “where to?”
They were on their seventh date, and she couldn’t keep it in any longer. She considered them dates, at least—they were at a table for two in a pretty little bistro, lightly flirting and generally having a good time—but she wasn’t sure James would put it in those terms. It was hard to know with him, really. She thought of this as the seventh date, but in truth she’d seen him every day since he’d ‘saved’ her from the vendor with the overpriced plums. She hadn’t been seeking him out, at first. He always seemed to find her anyway, though, and after a while they made sure to find each other. And now days had turned into weeks, which had turned into several months, and the longer she went without saying anything, the more dishonest she felt.
“Please don’t run away,” she said, drawing his eyes immediately back to her from where he’d been watching the people pass by on the sidewalk, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t know, and I want you to know that you can trust me.” He stiffened, and she knew that his fingers immediately went to grip the straps of his backpack protectively, even if she couldn’t see them under the table. It was what he always did when he wanted to run.
He eyed her from across the table, frozen in place and skittish, but didn’t get up to leave. She took it as permission to continue. With a heavy sigh, she put her hands palm-up on the table in front of her—a reminder, she hoped, that she had nothing to hide—and wet her lips with her tongue. This had the potential to change everything. She memorized every little detail of his face, just in case she never saw him again after this.
“You’re Bucky Barnes, aren’t you?” She rushed through it as quickly as she could without raising her voice; she knew he wouldn’t want to draw any extra attention. And sure enough, he was halfway out of his chair before she’d even finished the question. Tears burned her eyes. At the same time, though, a weight had been removed from her chest, and she couldn’t regret setting it out in the open.
He caught the glimmer—or at least saw something in her face—and paused, still half-standing. James—Bucky, she realized, now she could think of him by his name—stared at her, frantically searching her expression for something. What, she didn’t know, but she kept it open anyway. He’d been a master at reading her ever since they met.
When he sat back down, the breath whooshed out of her lungs and she felt dizzy. Darcy hadn’t let herself think about this as a possible outcome, and the relief went rushing through her. “Not here,” he said, picking at the little white tablecloth. He looked away, gesturing for the waiter, then glanced back at her. “Come to my apartment.” Part of her wondered if this was an elaborate plan to get her out of public and then silence her, but the vulnerability that flickered in his gaze stopped that thought right in its tracks.
“Okay,” she said, mustering up a smile for his sake, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach. Wondering how everything was going to change, she repeated, “Okay.”
Later, after he’d told her everything—well, not everything, but enough that she could guess—he asked her how she’d known. “I was a political science major, once upon a time,” she said, “and I know almost everything there is to know about Steve Rogers.” She trailed off at the end, seeing the way he flinched at his best friend’s name.
Tears glimmered in his eyes when he cut his gaze back to hers, or perhaps it was a trick of the light. “I’m not that man anymore,” he whispered, flinching away as if he expected to be struck down for saying it out loud.
“I know,” she said, startling his gaze back to hers. Reaching over, she lightly pressed her hand against his. “But I like who you are now.”
For a moment she wondered if she’d made a mistake in initiating physical contact, but then his hand slowly turned underneath hers, and he squeezed back.
Two months later, an old grainy photo of him was shown on TV, in connection to some kind of catastrophe at the UN. When he walked into her little apartment, bearing coffee and the covrigi from that vendor they loved, she was beyond grateful to see him whole and unharmed. “Have you seen?” she asked, not wasting a second.
“Yes,” he admitted, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. She’d never been happier that he’d allowed her to convince him to shave and sport a man bun; he looked nothing like the picture plastered all over the news. Then his words sank in, and she marveled at the wonder of it. He’d seen the news, and she knew he’d thought about running. And yet here he was, with her, bringing breakfast as planned. Her heart surged with emotion, and she smiled at him.
He smiled back, tentatively, like he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it. “I think it’s time to contact your best friend,” she suggested, ripping off the band-aid.
Bucky froze, then nodded. “You’re right,” he said, setting the coffee down on the table. He reached for his backpack, and she wondered what she’d said wrong.
“So how do we go about finding him?” she asked, rushing through the question, catching him before he could leave. “For someone who wears such an eye-catching outfit, he doesn’t seem that easy to pin down.”
Still frozen in place, he said nothing. Waving a hand in front of his face, she prompted, “Bucky? Everything okay?”
Clearing his throat, he asked, “You’re coming with me?” She watched as he mouthed the words again silently, like he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Of course,” she said, smiling at him tenderly. “Who else is gonna keep you out of trouble?”
She didn’t even see him move; one second he was stock still, staring at her, and in the next his mouth was on hers, his hands were in her hair, and his heart was in her hands. It was messy and emotional and perfect. And when his lips parted she didn’t hesitate to follow suit, opening up to him. Their tongues slid against each other in a desperate, perfect harmony. She didn’t ever want to let him go.
“I’m sorry,” he groaned, breaking the kiss and taking a hesitant step back. She blinked, reaching for him before she even understood the words. Her hand landed on his shoulder, and he didn’t move away.
She was still panting, and it took a second for her to gather the breath necessary to ask, “Why?” Confusion coated the single syllable, made even worse by the fact that she was staring at the evidence of her kiss on his mouth. Of desire on his face, obvious in the flush of his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes.
Gesturing with his metal arm, he said, “Look at me, doll. I’m a half a man. Are you sure you wanna be with someone as damaged as me?”
That didn’t deserve an answer with words, so she didn’t give him any. She answered with her mouth instead. It was a demanding, passionate kiss, where she poured out her heart and soul and received his in return. He was grasping her by the end of it, the strength of his hold at direct odds with his offer to let her go.
“You’re not a half of anything, James Buchanan Barnes,” she growled, staring him right in the eye. “And I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”
His whole body relaxed at her words and his face softened. He pressed the lightest of kisses to her forehead in apology, and whispered against her hair, “I don’t think I could let you go now anyway, Darce. One day, I’m gonna be the man you deserve.”
“To start,” she said, leaning back to make eye contact, “let’s go find the brave fool you call your best friend. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get to our happy ending.”
“First thing we’re gonna do,” he said, dragging her to the table with a chuckle, “is eat our breakfast, doll.”
This is a new series. The idea was inspired by @mkate-writes-things and her ridiculously amazing, dirty mind. Thanks love. <3 There will be lots of angst, smut, and bits of fluff. So,
enjoy the ride!
You laid down on your bed, letting out a deep sigh as you
stared up at the ceiling. Dean and Sam were gone, again. You knew this hunt was going to be like the last, taking at
least a week before the boys would find the monster and kill it. Of course, you
wanted to tag along. After all, you were a great hunter, maybe even as good as
Dean. But, Dean wanted you to stay home, like he had for the last several
Sure, Dean was protective. He had guarded you with his life
even before you two had started dating about three years back. But now, it was
getting ridiculous. And this only explanation was that someone he really cared
about got hurt, someone named Lisa, and he couldn’t let the same thing happen
But you were a hunter.
And from the little bit that Sam told you, Lisa wasn’t. You could hold your own
in a fight with a monster. You had been doing that since you were nine years
old. And, you were a fucking badass.
A knock at your door startled you out of your little fog.
You turned to the door to find Castiel standing in the doorway, his long trench
coat nearly spilling off his shoulders. He was smiling slightly, standing in
the threshold of the door.
The steady drops of rain on his umbrella kept Lance grounded as he walked away. He focused on breathing and focused on the ripples in the puddles he passed and focused on standing tall. He focused on everything except-
He turned to watch as Hunk caught up to him, absolutely soaked without an umbrella of his own. Lance frowned, but otherwise didn’t react.
“Look, you have every reason to be angry. I messed up.” Hunk looked up at him, and Lance could swear his heart broke right along with Hunk’s voice as he continued, “Please give me another chance.”
Lance nearly folded in on himself, looking away before he answered, his voice rough, “And why should I? You just keep breaking my heart.”
“Because I love you.”
Lance chewed at his lower lip. “But you said-”
“I don’t care what I said.” By now, Hunk was close enough to reach out and touch him, but he held back, waiting for Lance to close the gap. “I love you, and nothing could change that, so please…” A soft hitch in his voice cut him off, and Lance stepped forward, almost mesmerized. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”
Finally, Lance smiled, brushing a thumb over Hunk’s cheek. “For us? It’s never too late.”
Lance could almost hear the romantic music swell in the background as Hunk surged forward to kiss him, warm hands curved around Lance’s jaw. Lance slipped an arm around the back of his neck, eager to meet him halfway, and for one beautiful moment, they stood there, enjoying the shared heat between them and the backdrop of rain surrounding them.
“Cut! Take five!” Pidge’s voice interrupted them, and the two separated.
Lance sighed dramatically. “Why does it have to be raining? It’s so cold!”
“Feels fine to me,” she called back, sipping on what had to be her third cup of coffee.
“You’re wrapped in, like, five blankets! Of course you’re not cold!” Lance whined.
Hunk chuckled. “Hey, kissing in the rain is supposed to be romantic, right?”
“Yeah…” Lance grumbled and dropped his head onto Hunk’s shoulder. “But this is the fifth take. I’m tired, and I’m pretty sure she’s doing this on purpose.”
Hunk patted his back. “Well, if it makes you feel any better…” He lowered his voice as he continued, “I already bribed Rolo to give her decaf tomorrow as payback.”
Lance grinned. “You know, that actually does make me feel a lot better.”
I have a Christmas ask! It might be a lot of work but it would be fun to write. Companions and Sole have a secret Santa party: who gives who what gift?
So this is the super mega fluff piece I was ready and waiting to gift
you all with on Christmas Day, probably went a little overboard but nevertheless here ya go! :D
It was the night of Christmas,
when everyone had full bellies and cheerful smiles on their faces as they
gathered in front of the large Christmas tree decorated with innumerable shiny
trinkets. Curie was just finishing up in the kitchen, little tinks and clanks
sounding from where she was hurriedly cleaning and returning cooking utensils
to their rightful positions. She was meticulous like that, almost as much as
how purposeful each little decoration on the tree and the walls and ceiling of
Sole’s old house was placed thanks to MacCready and Danse – an unlikely team,
sure, but what a beautiful job they did.
Tinsel and candy canes
scavenged from the wasteland hung tastefully across the barren plains of the
ceiling above, covering up the holes and watermarks from two hundred years of
neglect. Red stockings hung on the walls, the names of their owners lovingly sewn
into them by Curie in her distinctly cursive font. Piles of presents awaited
and taunted under the green branches of the Christmas tree that both Longfellow
and Gage – yet another unlikely team – had managed to hunt down on one their
many escapades together.
Each companion wore their own
Christmas cheer in varying ways and many
varying colours; like green elf hats and plastic pointy ears like Mac who
somehow talked Cait into wearing a hat too, Danse who wore a Santa hat that
most certainly did not match his jeans and plaid t-shirt the way the hat on top
of Piper’s head matched her usual red trench coat. Even Strong made an effort by fashioning a large candy cane to take the
place of his usual old rotten club because none of the hats could fit his
massive noggin. In the sea of greens and reds and whites, the Sole Survivor
stood out in their bright blue vault suit who moved into the centre of the
gathered mass of comrades wearing a large grin and Santa hat atop their own
head, Dogmeat happily trailing behind them in his little Rudolph costume that
demanded attention and cuddles everywhere he went. Soon enough, all eyes in the
room turned to Sole who effortlessly picked up little Shaun and cradled him to
their side when he excitedly asked: “Is it time? Is it finally time?”
“Yes, son, it is.” Sole smiled
and squeezed him closer. They looked around at their friends, people who
they’ve fought side by side with for life and death and through thick and thin,
and realised just how grateful and lucky they were to be celebrating Christmas
Day with each and every single one of them. “Present time!” A cacophony of
cheers and bottle clinking and happy laughter filled the warm air all around
them then, the happy peal of excited laughter from both Nat and Duncan adding
to the cheers as they rushed from the kitchen with treats in their hands and a
guilty looking Curie trailing behind, barely managing to fit all that candy in
the pockets of her apron.
Sole sat down with Shaun in
their lap in the plump red cushioned chair in the corner of their living room,
the Christmas tree which was lit with hundreds of little lights standing proud
where their old television set once stood all those years ago. But nostalgia
was unwelcomed in a time like this, nor was it in the forefront of Sole’s mind
as they got to handing out the first of the dozens of delicately wrapped gifts.
“Oooh, little Duncan is first!” Sole grinned, retrieving the package and
carefully passing it on to the little guy who sat upon his daddy’s knee and
“Thank you!” He almost sung in
that sweet kiddie octave all toddlers seem to have. He read the label in broken
English, Mac grinning from ear to ear as he listened to his son work out just
who it was from. “Th-thank you daddy!”
“Welcome, little man. Merry
Christmas.” He said back, cuddling him closer as the little guy ripped it open
without hesitating. There was a moment of stunned silence when Duncan realised
what it was, his little eyes going wide and his mouth popping open with an
excited little gasp that had everyone in the room grinning from ear to ear too.
“It’s a Nuka Truck!” MacCready exclaimed excitedly for him which inspired from
the little guy a happy, uncontrollable giggle as he hugged his present tightly
to his little chest. It might have been the light from the innumerable bulbs
hanging from the Christmas tree, but it looked like Mac had a few tears in his
eyes as his son turned and hugged him tighter than he hugged his present. Nat
was next who damn near tackled Piper from the force of her hug because the
reporter had somehow managed to track down for her little sister – clearly a
budding artist – an entire crate filled with little easels, colouring books,
pens, pencils, crayons and even a few tubs of glitter glue. Shaun was next,
whose present awaited him under a tarp just outside in the garage. When Sole
unveiled it for him, whipping the tarp away like a magician would a cape, Shaun
let out an excited squeal of joy because under it was a massive pile of
robotics and the bare metaphorical bones of what once was a Mr Handy robot. No
one noticed Codsworth cringe, because Shaun had rushed to Sole and engulfed his
grinning parent in a near bone crushing hug because that was exactly what he wanted! Hundreds of
hours of tinkering and problem solving and bettering
something that he’s built with his own two hands, the apt stimuli someone of
his intelligence needed to keep himself occupied during the time Sole was away
Finally, with all the children
occupied with their presents, giggling and talking to each other happily in the
corner of Sole’s living room while the sound of clinking metal from Shaun
echoed quietly from outside, Sole and their dearest friends began handing out
presents to each other. Mac, Preston, Curie and Cait were seated on the couch,
with Danse, Hancock, Gage and Deacon on the stools at the kitchen island. X6,
Longfellow and Nick were standing off in the corner, sharing small talk like a group
of old ladies as Strong focused on not putting his head through the ceiling
from where he stood next to Ada behind the lounge. Dogmeat lay at Sole’s feet,
now and then nuzzling their leg for pats and cuddles as Codsworth hovered
dutifully at Sole’s side. Piper – who was seated on a chair opposite Sole with
the tree between them – had set up two months before how it all would work,
with each companion – including Sole – drawing from the bag a name of which no
one else was allowed to know. Not even she
knew who got who, although she had
secretly been working it all out in her head. Each present had a name and then
a ‘from Santa’ tag underneath, the handwriting a clue on its own as to who it
Danse was the first of them
all to get his present, who would have been mortified to learn that his cheeks
had taken on a shade of bright pink when Sole handed him the neatly wrapped
parcel with a grin and a wink, its size and weight befuddling the Paladin for a
moment before he tore away the wrapper and stifled a sharp gasp. “Holy Go- a plasma rifle?” The normally stoic man’s
reaction elicited a few laughs from his comrades who watched with smiles as he
turned the rifle over and inspected it closely, a look of awe plastered across
his face as he studied the extensive modifications. “Who got me this?”
“Uh uh, that’s not how Secret Santa works, my friend.” Hancock
said, clapping the bigger man’s shoulder with a grin. Nick and Piper shared a
knowing glance with cheeky smirks, they had both figured out it was from Sole
because that handwriting was just too
perfect to be from anyone else. Danse shook his head slowly, testing out the
grip on the weapon before chuckling to himself.
“Whoever you are, thank you.”
Without further ado, Sole
picked up another present and read the label. “Oooh, little Miss Curie is next!”
The little synth smiled and blushed, accepting the present Sole handed over to
her with barely contained excitement. Her delicate fingers deftly undid the
wrapping, almost as though she was too polite to tear away the wrapping that
someone had carefully done for her. When she saw what it was, she gasped and
covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes as she removed it from the
wrapping. Or rather them because her
present was a pair of beautifully crafted sequin dresses – one a midnight black
with golden embroidery, the other a bright sky blue with weaved in patterns and
a matching gold broch – which Curie hugged closely to her chest. “My eyes, they
are malfunctioning again! I am not
sad, just….happy! Yes! Thank you monsieur Santa Claus.”
This one was easy to figure
out and almost had Piper giggling when she met gazes with Curie’s Secret Santa.
Preston was at a loss as to what he should get his person and wasn’t as
discreet as he was obviously trying
to be when he was gathering information on what Curie liked. From across the
room, the Minuteman blushed and pulled the brim of his hat lower with a
It was Strong’s turn next who
was getting restless from where he stood, Sole hefting the large package over
to the big guy with Nick’s help. Surprisingly the super mutant was rather
gentle in how he unwrapped it and when he saw what it was, the biggest, most
terrifying grin split across his face. “Strong will be even more unstoppable
with this!” It was a rocket boosted puncturing super sledge that had every
human in the room internally cringing at the mere sight of it. Someone brave
enough to give the big guy that and
sneaky enough to haul that thing in without anyone seeing it beforehand means
his Secret Santa must have been none other than Deacon himself, who was just
being handed his own present.
“Aw, and here I was hoping for
a Deathclaw named Fluffy,” He jokingly said, tearing open the wrapping and then
– to everyone’s surprise – bursting out into full belly laughter. It really was a Deathclaw, only the homemade
plushy kind that clearly would’ve taken hours and hours of intricate stitching
to have it looking as good as it did. There was even a little collar around its
neck with ‘Fluffy’ engraved in it. “Thank you Secret Santa.” Deacon chuckled, looking
around the room like he didn’t already know who it was from. Only one person
could’ve done something like that and that was little Miss Curie who was still
hugging her dresses tightly and smiling it up big.
Codsworth was next who
received a mint condition black gentleman’s top hat from Ada who Piper must
have forgotten to explain the rules of Secret Santa to, because she had
apparently approached Codsworth a week before asking outright what he’d like
for Christmas. It was a heart-warming exchange between the two robots, one that
left pretty much everyone in the room shipping them hard because it turns out Codsworth was also Ada’s Secret Santa too and had somehow gotten her a state of the
art pre-war internal processor that – according to the Mr Handy – could put
brand new Sentry Bots to shame. Despite the robotic cadence to their voices it
was hard not to grin at their little exchange
because genuine sincerity practically dripped from them both.
MacCready – who apparently
hated receiving presents yet still managed to giggle a little when he was
handed his own – unwrapped the neat parcel to find a sizeable stack of intact,
unburnt Grognak the Barbarian comic books all the way from issue #1 to issue
#21 along with a 1/6 scale Silver Shroud action figure. The slight tug of a
smirk on Nick’s lips suggested the Detective had certainly done his homework
because it seemed like it was either raining a little inside or the merc
actually had tears in his eyes.
“Mr Gage, get on over here.”
Sole grinned, handing the raider a chest sized package he was already grinning
at. He dipped his chin as thanks and tore open the…wait…is that Publick
Occurrences newspaper??? Piper didn’t have time to figure it out because
she was already laughing at the look on Gage’s face along with everyone else
when he pulled out from the pile of caps within the chest a pre-war nude pinup
magazine that actually had him blushing under
that eyepatch of his. The cheeky laugh from Cait confirmed Piper’s hunch both
about the identity of Gage’s Secret Santa and
if his present was wrapped in perfectly good news articles. She never got mad
about it though, especially not with Sole placing a present upon Piper’s lap
with a wink.
It was a light present, one
she had to be careful opening but when she did and when she saw what it was,
she let out a squeal of excitement. “Choco
Puffs?!” These things were amazing
and so damn limited that the only way she could ever her hands on a packet of
these was to damn near bargain her ass off to one of the caravans from DC.
Chocolate anything was so hard to
come by and to have not one, or two but three
full boxes of the stuff? Piper could’ve cried. Hell, if she were in any less
control of herself, she would’ve hugged the crap out of MacCready because he
would know where to find these things.
As Piper was struggling not to
tear into a packet right away, Sole placed a present into Old Longfellow’s
hands who affectionately clapped their shoulder with a happy smile before
ripping away the wrapping on his gift. What looked like a normal bottle of
whisky to everyone else seemed to have some special meaning to the old hunter
because his face lit up like the Christmas tree that took centre stage in that
very room he stood in. Knowing how much he loves just about any kind of
alcohol, this one must be that much more special considering how carefully he
held it. “I don’t know how which one o’ you got me something like this, but the
last time I drank one of these was the same night I became a man.” He smiled
devilishly, giving away a hint at how he used to be a strapping young lad some
time ago. “But thank you.”
Piper’s eyes flicked to
Hancock who seemed mighty pleased with his handiwork before Sole got his
attention and handed him his very own gift. He gasped dramatically, chuckling
when he pulled out bottle after bottle of various types of chems that were
clearly homemade and most definitely of the purest kind. “I always knew Santa
was a guy I’d get along well with.” He grinned, oblivious to the fact that his
Santa was tall, green, wielding a super sledge and giving little Curie a
thankful look presumably for helping him out. Preston was next who was
absolutely thrilled with his gift – a small collection of Minutemen memorabilia
from way back when they first started out, like, literally when they first began in 1645. The shining medals, belt buckles
and engraved coins seemed to bring a few tears to Preston’s eyes and didn’t
seem to notice that Danse suspiciously didn’t look up from his new plasma
rifle, trying to hide his devious smile as Preston was rendered practically
speechless behind him.
With a soft laugh, Sole moved
on and passed over to Cait a neatly wrapped bundle. The brawler wasted no time
in unwrapping it and paused when she saw what was inside. “Ya didn’t…” she whispered
to no one in particular, lifting the item up so she could see it better. A pair
of shining black leather knee high boots lifted from the box in her hands and the
brawler stared in stunned awe. “Ohh ya fuckin’ did. Jesus. Holy shite.” The leather,
the shining black that seemed to captivate the brawler left little doubt as to
who it was from, particularly when he wore a slight, satisfied smirk and a coat
made out of the exact same material. The one and only X6-88.
As the Courser was handed his
own present, Piper hid her anticipatory smile behind her gloved hand and waited
for the synth to finish unwrapping it. She only wished he had his ever present
sunglasses off so she could see his
“Holy shit.” He murmured,
withdrawing from the neat box an almost antiquated Dan Wesson 715 revolver that
shined like it was made the day before. Piper’s arm still hurt from how much she polished the damn thing. “I don’t know
how anyone knew I had an affinity for these, but thank you.” Oh Piper knew
alright, when she clued onto just how much time X6 spent in the armoury with
proper ballistic weapons that is. It was strange to think that the Courser
preferred something other than blue
lasers but she needed to get him something special for looking after Sole in
the boogieman’s lair, something other
than a new pair of sunglasses like Deacon had suggested someone should get him
once before. Nick was next and it wasn’t really hard to guess who his present
was from considering it was wrapped in official Nuka Cola holiday gift wrapping
paper, but nevertheless Nick played along and was left grinning, actually grinning from ear to ear when he
discovered several in shape vinyl records of pre-war love songs. It was
actually quite touching that they came from a raider.
Dogmeat was lucky last and was
gifted from Old Longfellow a buffet of various cooked meat and monster bones
that would certainly keep the pup happy for a good long while. In fact, he
leapt up into Sole’s lap while chewing heartily on a thick bone, his owner
loving stroking his fur with a content smile on their face. But the gift giving
was not done yet. Throughout the month of December, Piper and Nick had been
conspiring together about recreating a drive-in cinema – minus the cars of
course – and had even managed to construct one in Sanctuary without Sole’s
knowledge and actually get a projector running
out of salvaged parts from Starlight Drive-In. It was a gift from all the
companions to Sole and was all ready to go, but there was just one more thing
they needed to do.
With a shared, sneaky look, both
Piper and Nick stood from where they were seated and got everyone’s attention
before Piper’s voice sounded. “Blue, I think I speak for everyone when I say…” Her
eyes flicked to something outside the window before she locked eyes with Blue,
her lips curling up into a devious grin. “SNOWBALL FIGHT!”
Unknown to everyone else
except the detective and the reporter herself, Shaun, Nat and Duncan had snuck
outside and with a little ingenuity, concocted slingshots from which they
pegged snowballs into the house upon the unsuspecting adults. Deacon and Gage
lunged behind the kitchen island, Hancock ducked into the hallway to protect
his chems, Sole used Dogmeat as a shield from where they were pinned under him
upon their chair and everyone else tore off outside to either join in or chase
after the sneaky little devils whose laughter echoed up and down the streets of
Sanctuary Hills, well and truly blanketing the snow covered town in Christmas
cheer once again.
Hi! This is the first part of my very first Fanfiction :D I’m super excited and very nervous too. I want to thank Courtney @shesasurvivor for accepting me as her mentee, also to the lovely ladies of @loveinpanem for giving me the push I needed to start writing.
I hope you like it, I’m going to post it on AO3 soon.
This story is Everlark high school reunion, inspired by the movie “10 years”, you’re gonna find some similar dialogs and other things
All mistakes are mine, I hope is readable because english isn’t my first language, so here it goes!
Summary: Can you do am Isaac imagine where the reader is being harassed (catcalling etc) and Isaac protects her and it’s really cute !!! Thank you !!!
Hand in hand, you and Isaac were taking a stroll around Beacon Hills. It
was a chilly evening but rugged up in coats, scarfs and boots made the
cold air seem not so bad. A lot had happened in this small town, some
you couldn’t even predict and others came as no surprise. Among the madness Isaac and you had developed a very close bond, now one
year later and not even the supernatural could tear the relationship
“Want to grab a hot chocolate?” he asked when he noticed you shiver.
"You read my mind Lahey”.
into the cafe Isaac took the lead and went to order, while you stepped
to the side waiting for him to come back.
“Here you go love” he handed you the hot chocolate and the two of you sat down at the nearest table.
out the window, this right here was a rare occurrence at best. Nothing
to worry about, no interruptions as of yet and just quality time with
your tall, well built, werewolf of a boyfriend.
“Penny for you thoughts?” Isaac cheeky asked.
got you to smile and you stared at you boyfriend who couldn’t stop
“Well right now I’m thinking that my boyfriend is a giant
He pouted and said, “Well your giant dork of a boyfriend is highly offended”
Leaning across the table you kissed him, “Is he offended now?” you asked once you pulled away.
“No, but he is slightly turned on”. You lightly smacked his shoulder and shook your head.
of the cafe members announced that they would be closing early, so
seeing no point in staying Issac took your hand once again and walked on
“Where to now?” you asked, stepping outside into the cold air that
Beacon Hills offered.
“Your place? I don’t think Derek would be all
that thrilled if we went to his loft, who knows what he gets up too once
his alone” Isaac mumbled the last part, but you heard it all to well.
The thought of Derek doing many things in his loft alone made you giggle,
Isaac looked down and gave you a confused expression. “I’m just thinking
about all the things Derek probably gets up to when his by himself” you told him.
“I really hope my girlfriend isn’t thinking of my alpha in a non-appropriate way?”.
“I wasn’t, but since you mentioned it Derek does have really nice hands. Imagine what they capable of…” there was teasing evident in
your voice, and Isaac picked up on it straight away. He grabbed your
waist and tickled your sides, laughing immensely “Isaac stop” you begged.
“I will once you say Isaac Lahey is a sexy beast”, looking up at him you tried very hard to contain your laughter once again.
“You see I would but I was taught to never lie”.
face was priceless, he tickled you further and you said. “Okay, okay
Isaac is a sexy beast”. He stopped and let go of you waist, people
passing by gave each of you weird glances but neither you nor Isaac
“See wasn’t so hard babe” he added while making sure his hand
was interlocked with yours. When it came to you Isaac was very
protective and a simple hand holding gesture, meant that he’ll protect
you no matter what.
A couple meters ahead the new club that just had opened up was coming into
sight, there were plenty people outside waiting to enter while there
were plenty of people stumbling out of the club. Walking past you
noticed a guy leaning against the club wall, he looked like he was
either tipsy or about to be drunk if he took another sip.
closer to Isaac and holding onto his hand that much tighter, you kept your
head down and continued walking. You hated whether it was by yourself or
with someone else walking past clubs, people were always unpredictable
and the idea of a stranger drunkenly doing anything was beyond unappealing
The guy kept his eyes on you and the minute Isaac and you
walked by he whistled, ignoring it he whistled again when you didn’t respond he shouted.
“Hey! It’s not nice to ignore someone”
“Just keep your head down, don’t let go of my hand and keep walking” Isaac whispered to you.
Obviously this guy wasn’t going to give up, he shouted yet again. “Yo bro, your
lady friend is hot. How about you bring her over and I can get to know her better?”.
You cringed at that prospect and you could tell Isaac
was doing everything to not punch the guy. Instead he let go of your
hand and walked on up to the guy.
“How about you go back into the club
and hit on a girl that isn’t taken”.
The guy put up his hand in defense, “Sorry man, I see a pretty women and I just got to compliment her”.
“There is a difference between giving a compliment and shouting inappropriate things man. Learn the difference yeah?”.
strolled back to you and grabbed your hand. The guy still wasn’t
getting the hint and yelled, “How about I get your number, pretty lady?”.
didn’t hear Isaac when he told him you were taken, Isaac sighed and
instead of wasting his breath he smirked and leaned down to give you a
gentle, but very satisfying kiss.
Biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling, the guy immediately became quiet and walked back in to the club.
“That shouldn’t have been as entertaining as it was” you told him.
“He got the message that’s all I care about, now come on let’s get back to your place”.
two of you made it back to your place, stepping in and taking off all
the layers you turned on the heater. Issac came up behind you and pulled
“Sexy beast protects his girl” he whispered in your ear his
warm breath strangely sending shivers down your back.
“And his girl
very much appreciates it” you played with his hands and felt Isaac
smile. Not liking the fact you couldn’t see him you swapped positions, so
“I don’t care who it is, I’m not going to let anyone hurt
you okay” His voice was full of love and hearing him say that, even
though his actions already showed that he meant ever world, still made you smile.
the back of his neck, he leaned on down and for the third time that
night your lips connected. “Isaac Lahey you are my hero”.
“Always and forever love” he replied.
there in his embrace it was a comforting thought, knowing you had
someone who would do anything it took to make sure you were safe and
Isaac Lahey was someone you didn’t think you would be this close
too, when you guys first meet. But now he was the only one you couldn’t
imagine living without.
A/N: You know me, I listen to one song and a million ideas spring into my head and because it’s December I put on my christmas playlist and ‘Baby, it’s cold outside’ came on and I just couldn’t help myself. Enjoy. Disclaimer: I wasnt entirely sure where in America it snowed a lot so I googled it and decided to go for Colorado so sorry if I’m wrong or anything…
Summary: While looking for Lucifer a snow storm hits and you find yourself stuck in a room with the devil himself.
Pairing: Lucifer x reader
Word count: 1,228
Warnings: None really
You had spent the past few weeks trying to track down the pain in the ass of an archangel after he broke out of the cage. Cas had managed to track him to Colorado. This also happened to be the time of year where snow settled on the ground and you froze your skin off so that joyed you entirely.
You were sat in the back of the impala, wearing about four layers of clothing and trying to remain calm. You weren’t exactly a fan of the cold when you were tying to do your job.
“Couldn’t he have picked somewhere slightly warmer like, I don’t know, LA? City of angels would be a good place for the devil to hide wouldn’t you think?” You grumbled as Sam got back into the car with coffee for all of you.
Kittyinva: Incredible 1928 c. Jeanne Lanvin (!) evening coat. It is made of gold lame, quilted with green stitching. It is fully lined in green silk and has an over-sized collar. From GarbOhVintage, Etsy.
description: reader is way too reckless when first dealing with the billywig, which results in newt having to play nurse
a/n: HE’S SO CUTE JUST LOOK AT HIS FACE UH GBEWJKHRGWEGBKWBHEKTLBEWG
Having never left America, even after your time in Ilvermorny, you couldn’t help but be extremely interested in Newt’s suitcase. And by ‘extremely interested’, I mean extremely interested.
You had always been interested in magical beasts since you had been introduced to them during standard Ilvermorny lessons, so when Tina confided in you one day about the odd man with the suitcase full of magical beasts in it, you couldn’t let the amazing opportunity slip away.
“There is no way an Extension Charm can hold, u-uh, this!” (y/n) said incredulously, gesturing wildly with her arms, eyes wide with pure excitement.
Newt couldn’t help a laugh at how absolutely adorable (y/n) looked - it reminded him of his very first Care of Magical Creatures lesson during his years at Hogwarts. He hadn’t known (y/n) (y/l/n) for very long - two days were not very long indeed - but he and (y/n) had clicked so easily that it seemed that they had known each other forever.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that (y/n) had already wandered off to the next area of beasts. Newt furrowed his brow - this was the Australian territory, which meant that -
“Woah, hey, Newt! What’s this blue one? With the wings on top of its head? It looks kind of cute - ow!” Newt Apparated over to where (y/n) was now clutching her arm tightly, his heart pounding. Billywigs weren’t lethal, but the look of pain on (y/n)’s face made fear course through his veins.
The effects of the Billywig sting hadn’t kicked in yet, thank Merlin for that, so Newt hurriedly gathered (y/n) up in his arms, racing back to his little shed. Gently placing (y/n) down on his makeshift bed, he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair (a/n: his hair makes him even cuter but is that even possible tbh), plopping himself down on a stool. If (y/n) started getting all woozy and began floating, at least they would be safe with him. (y/n) was half-conscious, muttering incomprehensible words under her breath, nose scunched up slightly.
Newt couldn’t help but think that (y/n) looked absolutely adorable - not that she wasn’t usually adorable already - she was a beautiful woman, and even when unconscious, she still made him blush like the good old Hufflepuff he was.
Focus, Newt! Make her comfortable, for Merlin’s sake!
“R-right,” Newt stuttered to himself quietly, blushing even harder when he moved to remove (y/n)’s thick everyday coat. It was an innocent move, but he had never exactly been intimate with anyone before, so even removing her coat made Newt feel like he had done something very inappropriate.
Suddenly, (y/n)’s eyes snapped open as she began to leave the bed. Oh, no, not the normal ‘leaving-the-bed’. She began to float. Newt whirled around at the sound of (y/n)’s loud, delirious, laughs as she was suspended in mid-air.
“Hey, Newt! I’m flying! Look, look, look! Your invisible broomstick is great!” (y/n) said happily, looking like an excited first year ready for the first day of school. A smile overtook Newt’s face as he laughed alongside (y/n).
After about four hours, the effects of the Billywig sting were beginning to fade away as (y/n) stopped levitating and grew drowsy. Newt remained by her side the entire time, brushing silky strands of hair away from (y/n)’s face or trying to get her to eat something.
“Newt?” Newt gazed at (y/n), who was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Yes?”
(y/n) smiled slightly as she whispered, “I think I really like you.”
Newt’s heart seemed to freeze, his breath hitching in his throat. “W-what?”
But (y/n) had already drifted off to sleep as he forced himself to calm down, although the raging blush had returned to his cheeks, his feelings in a complete whirlwind.
“I think I really like you too, (y/n).”
Grindelwald had been defeated, and all was well in New York as Newt readied himself to return to his home in England. Tina and Queenie had said their goodbye’s, and had left (y/n) and Newt to be alone.
(y/n) and Newt were quiet as they interlaced their fingers, (y/n) resting her head on Newt’s chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” she muttered, Newt’s shirt muffling her voice and hiding her face. “Hey,” Newt cupped (y/n)’s face in his hands, looking her in the eye. “This is not the end. I can come back to New York, or you could visit Britain one day. It’s not the end. It’ll never be the end, all right?” He gently kissed (y/n), their lips moulding together as they grabbed each other’s hands tightly.
(y/n) pulled away, reaching into the pocket of her coat for something as Newt stared down at their hands.
“You didn’t think I was just going to let you ditch me here, did you?”
Newt stared at (y/n) in awe - not that he already always did that on an everyday basis - or rather, the cruise ticket in her fingers. “H-how… but you-u, u-uh…” Newt began stammering unintelligibly, his brain not registering what the bloody hell was happening.
Wrapping her arm around Newt’s neck, (y/n) whispered, “I want to be with you, Newt. I always felt that New York was never right for me. I mean, maybe I was meant to be with you, and go to England, and start afresh. A new life, you know?” Newt gazed into (y/n)’s beautiful (y/e/c) eyes, saying, “Are you sure you really want this? Being with you - you in Britain - it would be absolutely amazing. But I would never want to pressure you into moving to a whole new country and-” “I want this, Newt. I do, I really do. I’ll get Tina to send my suitcases over and we can do whatever we want, okay?”
“Last call for The River, bound for Britain!”
Exchanging a knowing, sure glance, Newt Scamander and (y/n) (y/l/n) boarded the ship, fingers interlaced, knowing that whatever the future held, they would face it with one another. Together.
a/n: AHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA I THINK I’M DED - roxanna
Which do you dislike more Joner*s or Jon*a? If one happens which one In your opinion would be worse?
Alright, can I just die instead? No? Okay. I like all the three characters separately, but I hate the idea of them together romantically. So, take a sit because this will be going on for quite a while, I have to make my against-against list first. Seriously now, i’ll try to be short about this and contain my disdain for this two “couples” or whatever the hell people use to call it.
JON/DAENERYS: I would love an alliance between them, it would be both necessary and interesting to see. But that’s all, folks. Nothing more.Aside the predictably fairytale-ish boring part that I alreardy discussed a little bit in here and the obvious reasons people usually gives like the inscest bit, I don’t think they would work out as a happy pair. I don’t see they falling in love with each other in any possible way, it would be just too dreamy. They’re different in so many aspects! Jon is a sweet lil’ babe who only wants to get warm and deserve it more than anyone else. Unfortunately, destiny has other plans for him and he has a role to play in the war to come, but at the first opportunity he’ll just want get away from all of this and step aside.Or he’ll die. Either way, his path is very far from Dany’s. She is also someone who have been through so much and deserves better, sure. But she has her own agenda, she does want to be a ruler and play the game of thrones.She chose this, unlike Jon. Also, I don’t see anything that would point them to a relationship without being in a completely au!characters/situation and even then, it would be boring as death and an amount of unnecessary drama.
JON/SANSA: I don’t even understand this pairing, really. Why do you think Jon and Sansa will end up together? What points to this? I don’t see the logic, sorry. I love the brotp they made out of them tho, it’s cute. But I get the feeling most people ship it because of the hug last season - IT WAS A BROTHERLY HUG TO ME! - and look good together standing side by side, that’s it. This is what bothers me in the fandoms, argh. Stop romanticize everything, guys. It’s okay only a friendship, no need to turn everything into a ship thing. I hardly heard of “Jonsa” before s6, but after they hugged… WOW! Everybody started making scenarios of them. I don’t think Sansa see him in THAT way or will ever and with all she’s been through… Honestly. It’s gross, there’s no hint of interest in either part. They truly, truly see each other as brother and sister. I don’t usually care so much about incest but it would be like if she dated her dad? I mean, she even made a coat (can’t remember the right word now, sorry) like her dad used to wear, lol. The same apply for the people who ship Jon/Arya as well, I don’t understand. Lastly, they have the same Jonerys problem… What they have in common except the love for *THEIR* family?
With all of this being said… I think neither of this two pairings would be a healthy or a happy one, it’s doomed and trash-y in any case. But, if I have to choose one… I would stick with the first, it’s less disturbing and makes more sense than the second - which have none at all in the asoiaf-gotverse. Still, i’ll pray for things don’t come to that. What’s yours, nony? I’m curious since you put me in a death/death position, HHA. Feel free to come back, I love answering questions.
I’m prolly gonna facepalm myself in the future for this, but feck it I made this vore blog for a reason :P
Once Guzma’s Ariados collapsed on the paint-splattered ground, the team leader grimaced to himself, and called his final pokemon back.
“Alright, you can get the kid’s Yungoos back.”Guzma answered, and then turned back to his small band of grunts in the room. “Grunts, get outta here will ya?”
“Got it Guzma!” They all answered in a panicked voice, running right out of the room as the Yungoos followed suite, running freely out of the house.
As the female trainer had a smug look of confidence on her face, she then turned around on her heel, ready to leave.
Before she took her step though, she felt a sudden puncture hit her at the back of the neck.
“Hey now,” Guzma said with a dark grin. “I didn’t say you could leave.”
As Guzma’s chuckle filled the room, the trainer kneeled down on the floor, gripping onto the ripped carpet as she gripped onto her head. Her whole body felt like it was burning, and her vision was getting blurry. She began to scream in the pain of it, closing her eyes shut as she let out a scream.
When the pain finally ended, she opened her eyes, only to see what she though was a different room. What she soon discovered though was that it wasn’t; it was the same room, but far bigger.
“How’s that for being cut down to size?” Guzma asked in his demeaning tone, only now his voice was practically booming.
It was then that the realization hit her; the room wasn’t bigger, she had somehow shrunken down. To about only one foot specifically. When she looked to her right, she saw that the belt she wore containing her team of pokemon was ripped off, and tossed to the right. And standing in front of the belt was the obvious culprit: Guzma’s Golisopod, still standing even after the fight.
Golisopod immediately grabbed the trainer up by the arms, and hovered her right above Guzma’s face, who looked up at her with a sinister grin.
“You thought I’d leave ya to run off after ya messed with our plans again?” He said with a sneer. “As if! I don’t take it easy until I’ve won after all!”
“What are you-” The trainer stopped herself as Guzma opened his mouth wide, right below her feet. A scream came out of her mouth as Golisopod lowered her in, with Guzma’s tongue pushing her legs up to the roof of his mouth, limiting her movement. With that, Guzma took his first gulp, her feet and calves going right down.
The trainer tried to wriggle her way out, but Golisopod’s grip only grew tighter with each attempt, nearly puncturing her hands as it held her in place, and pushed her down into the Team Leader’s hungry mouth. Golisopod only let go once Guzma had swallowed down her waist, leaving the rest of her to fit right into his mouth.
“No! Stop it please!” She screamed out, gripping onto the tongue with all her might. “Please don’t eat me!”
Guzma only grinned darkly, and slammed his tongue down to the bottom of his mouth, breaking the trainer’s grip as the saliva caused her hands to slip away.
By now, only the trainer’s head and her arms were still visible, with the uvula dangling right above her head. She could she Guzma’s teeth slowly closing around her, and her sight of the outside world. The light chill of Po Town was replaced by the humid heat of spit and breath, and the dim light of the outside slowly vanished as Guzma’s tongue pushed her further back. She kept reaching her hands out, trying to grab whatever she could, but once she was pushed to the very back, beyond even the uvula…
Guzma gulped down hard. Lowering his tongue, the entrance to his esophagus was empty, and a wriggling bulge could be seen on his throat. The Team Leader grinned darkly at the trainer’s struggling, placing a finger above the bulge before gulping again, tracing it as it disappeared into him, and licking his lips as he felt the trainer wriggle as she descended further down…
Inside, the trainer continued to cry and scream as she went down Guzma’s gullet. When she tried to stop her descent by stretching her arms out against the gullet, the constant coating of saliva made her slide down even further. All the while, Guzma’s frantic heartbeat practically boomed against her ears, all while she was constantly squeezed down into the hottest and slimiest of innards.
After a good minute or so, she slid right into the stomach, landing right into the half-digested sludge at the pit of Guzma’s gut. Most of it appeared to be made from an eaten malasada, but there was also a pink slime surrounding it, while what seemed to be the top of a Bounsweet’s stem floated atop all of the muck.
The trainer felt her heart sink as she realized all of that, and began to frantically push against the slimy stomach walls. “Let me out right now!!” She yelled at the top of her lungs.
“Oh? What’s this?” Guzma muttered from the outside. Lifting his shirt a bit to reveal his abdomen, she saw his slightly swollen gut move around as the trainer inside form a variety of bulges. Each one only made Guzma laugh as he stroked his belly with a hand. “Looks like someone’s still itchin’ for a fight, but now I’m the one who’s winnin’!” He said all too happily. “How does it feel to be on the losin’ side? To be totally helpless as ya can’t even make a dent in me?” “I’ll let ya know, I’m delighted in it~” He answered, giving his lips another lick, and gave his gut one big pat.
“A-aahh!” The trainer inside let out as the pat from outside made the stomach wall slam against her, with Guzma’s maniacal laughter filling her ears alongside the racing heartbeat and the constant gurgling. Falling to the floor of the stomach, all of the other juices began to stick to her like the saliva did, and Guzma’s eager belly got right to work squishing and sloshing her around with it. She couldn’t even keep a sense of balance anymore, as the gut was so busy and uneven for her to stand on. Her breaths grew faster and shorter, as the only air around her was hot and smelly. Even her sight was almost gone as it was almost complete darkness inside this gut.
As she tried to fight off her weariness, her head began to feel lightheaded, and her eyes filled with tears. As Guzma’s belly continued to squish her up and slosh her around like another piece of food, she buried her face into her hands, and cried.
On the outside, Guzma gave his belly another satisfied pat, hearing the muffled cries, as his Golisopod picked up the belt of the trainer’s team, and tossed it to his trainer.
“Atta boy Golisopod!” Guzma said as he grabbed the belt in the air and put it around his waist, tucking his shirt back down to do so. “This more than makes up for losin’ that Yungoos.” He answered with the biggest and darkest grin yet, standing back up to walk out of the room, while his trusty Golisopod followed him.
From one window however, a feline pokemon could be seen sitting on the windowsill, peering into the very room that Guzma was in…