#;ooc: THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT IT CAME OUT REAL GOOD

[amorouscasanova]

bein' alivwe did some freaky shit to my eyes but sup, howv's it goin'

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

bad idea, right? | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,

notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so�� enjoy :)

word count: 4.6k

Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.

Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.

You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.

Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.

“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”

To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.

“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.

The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.

She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”

“Did you get a name?!”

After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.

With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”

Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.

Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Finnick.”

********

Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.

Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.

A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.

Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.

Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”

“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”

You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.

“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”

“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”

“Thanks, mum!”

You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.

Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.

District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.

Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.

Oh, fuck me.

He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.

“Finnick,” you greeted.

“Y/N.”

He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.

Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.

Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.

“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”

You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.

“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”

“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”

Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”

He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”

“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”

Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.

You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?

Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.

But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.

Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.

So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.

In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”

He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”

And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”

Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”

You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.

“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”

Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.

This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”

Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.

“I want you,” he whispered.

You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”

He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.

Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.

A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.

Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.

You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”

His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.

“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.

You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.

“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”

Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”

Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.

“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.

He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.

You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.

“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.

Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”

The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”

“That’s right.”

Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.

Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.

And, well, you did.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.

“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”

With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.

With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.

The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.

Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.

“Turn around,” he said, and you did.

You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.

Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.

The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.

You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.

Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.

Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.

“Oh god,” you gasped.

The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.

It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.

You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.

Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.

“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.

His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.

“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.

He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.

“Harder!” you cried.

Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.

His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.

“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”

You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.

He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—

“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”

A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.

You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.

Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.

*********

“Don’t leave again.”

Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.

“Finnick…” you sighed.

“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”

The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.

Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.

You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.” 

tags: @tayrae515

[fandomzwriterk]

can i request yandere remy labeau x reader smut. Maybe he confesses his love to his darling and it leads to smut( if your comfortable with that)

My Queen of Hearts

Warnings: Yandere Remy + slightly ooc Remy + possessive Remy + NSFW content + Virgin Reader & Remy

A/n: I’m gonna do my best for this request and I’ll do the smut but be warned I’m not the best so don’t laugh. Also 3rd person reader! Pardon my poor Cajun-French I’m sorry😭😭

NSFW below 👇🏻

Remy Labeau was an eccentric man, and everyone in the X-Men knew that, none more so than Rouge, Remy’s past lover. Past? No that can’t be right… right? He still loves her right?

Nope

Remy moved on after Magneto came and moved into the mansion. He knew he stood no chance against the very man whom she could hold and touch. Much to everyone else’s surprise, even you, he said he was uninterested in her anymore.

“She ain’t my type of girl. That’s it bon amí.”

Logan didn’t believe him, after all he still loved Jean even if she was married, but he kept that to himself. Remy was just confused according to Logan. Morph and even Jubilee just went along with it… almost too well. But who were you to judge? Remy was one of your closest friends here, so of course you’d be by his side through his complicated relationship with Rouge.

“Hey Y/n can you, Storm, and Jean help me out with something?” You heard Jubilee say from down the hall

“I’ll be right there!” You spoke as you looked at Remy as he sat on the sofa, arms crossed behind his head as he listened to whatever Morph and Logan were telling him. “I’ll be right back Remy. Jubilee needs me.”

Remy smirked at you, just a classic thing he did to any girl he had “feelings” for. They weren’t real feelings, just a facade he put up around women, that’s just how Remy worked. But if you happened to be someone Remy wanted to give his attention to… he really showed you attention.

“Oh hello Y/n.” Jean spoke kindly as she waved a hello at you with a smile. It was nice to see her, she’d been gone with Scott for a few days. “Anyways Jubilee what did you want to talk about?”

“Well you know how Magnetos been here and… well I’ve just been wondering what you three have been thinking.”

Storm muttered something under her breath as she sat looking out the window thinking long and hard as a storm came rolling in. Jean couldn’t decide what she thought either.

“I think that, even with our rough past with him, he has good intentions for us and what the Professor wanted.”

“I’m not so sure Jean. He’s fought us for so many years and now that suddenly the Professor has passed and he’s deciding to forget it all? Something doesn’t add up.”

Both Storm and Jean were right. You hadn’t been around long enough to witness the bloodshed with Magneto that everyone had, but your time was long… just not long enough to meet the Professor. You’d been here when he had left, after Remy, Scott, Logan, Rouge, and Jean brought you back from a dangerous mission. You would’ve died that day if they didn’t save you from that gang and that half destroyed Sentinel.

“Well at least for Y/n it works out.”

“Jubilee!” Both women shouted

“What?! Rouge has been all ‘cuddly and friendly’ since Magneto got here and that leaves Gambit open.”

You just sighed, turning to walk out the door as the other three women stayed silent. Closing the door behind you hard, made you want to scream out loud about what Jubilee said.

“Just ignore it Y/n. Maybe it’ll-“

Your sentence cut short as a card flew in circles in front of you, doing a flip before heading into the darkness. Your eyes could barely see who it was, but you could just figure it out on your own anyways.

“Hello Remy.” You spoke to the dark hallway

Remy held the card between his pointer and middle finger, then spinning it between his other fingers. He took one step towards you, just barely being lit by the light of the moon through the window.

“My chérie what’s wrong?” Remy spoke with a smile, putting a hand over your shoulder as he pulled you along for a walk down the hall

“Nothing Remy. I’m just fine.”

“My ange I think differently. Let ol’ Gambit talk it out with you.”

You could never object to Remy’s kindness to you. He was the one who found you that day, trapped in a cell with nothing but a bucket and pieces of bones from any sort of meat. Everyone treated you with the utmost kindness. Scott and Logan kinda felt like your older brothers, sweet but also stubborn. Jean, Storm, and Rouge were like aunts to you, kind but never getting in the way as a “parent” like Scott did. Maybe that’s just because their baby hadn’t been born yet and he was so worried about a young mutant like you. But Remy… Remy was different. Remy was there on your darkest days, your companion through the nightmares, especially at nights like these.

“Alright let’s talk then.”

“That’s it ma princesse. Let your dear Gambit hear what you’re thinking about.”

You sat on the edge of his bed as Remy walked around and went straight the bathroom, winking at you before closing the door behind him. Well, that’s Remy for ya. But here’s the thing… you don’t even have to ask what anyone is thinking… you already know.

“My dulcinée… what are you thinking about?” You hear as Remy opens the door to reveal himself with nothing but his pink crop top and boxers on

“Remy!”

You sat up, coving your eyes because you were raised to be decent for people. Taking one step away towards the door, you couldn’t dare look at someone, especially Remy, like this.

“Mon amour where do you think you’re going?”

Remy followed you, grabbing your wrist as he pulls you back and spins you around so he’s against the door and you’re more inside his room. Remy, without a second to spare, locks the door with a smile on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down as if he was going to pounce on you that second.

“Remy I-“

Being much taller than you are, and able to pick you up easily, Remy walked up and pushed you down onto his bed, watching you as you stared into his crimson-black eyes. You scooted away, trying to crawl off onto the other side, but Remy was faster, practically jumping onto you and keeping you there, trapped under him. You couldn’t move, your body felt paralyzed as you looked into Remy’s adoring eyes. You always had a feeling about him… but you could never place what it was, that is, until now.

“Do you know what I’m thinking Ma Belle?”

“N-no Remy I-i don’t.”

Your words were honest, you truly did not wish to peek into Remy’s mind right now as he had you trapped under him, on his bed, half undressed already. With his one hand on your hip to keep you there, his other went to the side of your face, caressing it as he stared into your eyes, looking for something in them.

“Well darling I’m surprised you didn’t already look. Gambit’s been having some thoughts about you since he told Rouge to fuck off.”

If your face was red, you could feel it and Remy could see it. He knew what he was doing. But at the same time, what was he saying?

“You see my dear, once I realized Rouge would gladly leave your sweet and loving Gambit for some old prick, I decided to move on from her.”

His eyes stayed onto yours as he grabbed both sides of your hips, now turning to push your head down onto his pillows. His grip was hard, almost needy. Grabbing one of yours hands with his, he continued to look into your eyes, even as he brought your hand up to kiss it.

“Now looking back on it… I’m glad I did. Rogue could never compare to what I feel when I’m around you.”

“Remy…”

“Ma Belle you are everything I want, and even if Gambit can’t decide what he wants sometimes, he knows he wants you.”

Remy broke eye contact lifting himself up a little to look at you from head to toe once more, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body gently laid onto yours, keeping you there in his arms and trapped under him. Even if this was a trap… did you truly want to leave him when he’s right here, willing to love you when you’ve wanted it for so long already?

“Remy do you… is this a fling or are you serious?” You asked

Remy’s head perked up, staring down at you once more. He looked confused, as if you just asked him the hardest question ever in his life.

“My déesse there is no one that could ever make me feel the way you make me feel. I adore you… I treasure you… and I don’t want anyone else to have you. Not any of the other men here. Not anyone. Just me.”

Remy gripped onto your hand tightly, as if you were going to leave and never come back. His eyes searched yours for an answer.

“I want you… I’ve always wanted you my ange.”

You didn’t even have to think twice before sitting up and wrapping your other arm around Remy’s neck, pulling him closer.

“I love you Remy.”

“And I you my angel.”

Remy didn’t hesitate to let go of the grip on your hip, holding himself up as he moved closer to your face, staring at your lips. But he didn’t do anything, waiting for you to say those words he needed to hear as well.

“Chérie I… as much as I want it… I want to know if you want it too. Gambit doesn’t wanna force you to do anything you-“

You leaned up slightly feeling lips touch yours for a quick second, then moving your head to the side to show him your neck.

“I want it Remy… I want you.”

He quickly yanked off his shirt that had barely put it on a few minutes ago. Who cares? As long as Remy gets what he wants right?

“You are so beautiful my sweet.” He whispered as he started to help you take off your top, staring at your chest with wide eyes

Remy, being Remy, just kept his eyes there for a little longer than he should’ve, almost forgetting the best part of what was in front of him. It was hard to look away as he helped take off your bottoms and left you in nothing but your underwear as well. There was silence as you both looked each other in the eye, waiting for one of you to do something.

“Sweet god you are so perfect to me.”

He wasted no time, letting you move your hands to his back while he moved his face to the side of your neck. His breath was warm, yet shaky. He seemed… confused.

“Remy is this-“

“Ya. It is my dear. And… yours as well?”

You nodded. So at least both of you were willing and wanting to be each others first. You moved one hand to go behind Remy’s head, pushing down to his mouth on your neck. Then he seemed to understand where to start. One bite was all it took for Remy to start losing himself.

“Fuuuucckkkk Ma Chérie you taste so good.” Remy groaned as he pushed you deeper into his pillows, biting almost every inch of your neck as possible

“R-Remy I- fuck. Ah~”

Remy was practically laying on you at this point, and you could feel his erection through his boxers and your panties.

“My beauty you are so- fuck- sweet to me.”

Remy leaned back, staring at you as you felt your hands go for the waistband of his boxers. He shuffled a little so you could pull them down, seeing his cock pop out. He was big, but then again you’ve never seen another man’s dick before. He pulled yours down as well, flinging them over his shoulder and onto some part of the floor.

“I… how is this supposed to-“

No hesitation from Remy and he had you pushed back, putting all his weight onto you as he crushed you with his body and his lips on yours. He was hungry, and he was hungry for you. Here you were, finally in his arms and so ready to get fucked by him. Remy was shaking with need and want, holding himself back from unleashing all his feral energy into you.

“Fuck me my dear you are so sweet on my tongue.”

Your tongues fought for a few seconds, hands moving just to hold each other closer in such need and want of each other. After a couple more bites on your neck, Remy looked down to see your cute little hole wet and needy. He didn’t even have to prep you and you were already wet at all of the things going on with you two.

“F-fuck my dear I want to push it in so bad. Tell me you want it. Tell my you want me.” He growled in your ear

“I want it… I want you Remy. Please Remy I want you so badly.” You whined, practically moaning it out loud for everyone in the mansion to hear

With one hand holding onto his cock, the other set right next to your head as he carefully put the tip up to your entrance.

“This will hurt a little my dear. Don’t worry I’m here.”

With very little effort, the tip of his cock was past your entrance. You bit back the moans daring to escape, making sure nobody else could hear you two fucking just down the hall. Remy didn’t look any better, panting like a dog in heat and ready to fuck his mate. He wanted you, slowly going deeper as you sucked him in.

“Ah my darling you feel s-so good.”

It took a little bit of time, but eventually Remy was fully seated inside you and ready to go. Remy was losing himself in you, but it’s not like you were both feeling uncomfortable with each other. Being in this position with Remy just felt… right.

“I-I’m gonna go my dear.”

One pump out had you wanting him back in. One pump in and Remy had you screaming for more. Slowly, Remy waited for you to adjust to him, holding back whatever he was wanting to do to you.

“F-faster” you begged him

Remy had you moaning and pleading for him in a matter of minutes. Maybe you always did love Remy, you were just too much into denial to listen to yourself.

“Gods be damn my love you feel so-“

Remy’s inner mind snapped, staring down at you as he grabbed both wrists and pulled them over your head and pined them there. Remy’s hands wandering, going straight for your chest and grab at your tits.

“F-fuck Ma Chérie you really know how to take my cock don’t you? Is this what you’ve been wanting this whole time? Waiting for me to be alone with you and fuck your brains out? Huh? Oh yeah you feel so good.”

Remy started to ramble, letting his mind speak freely about everything he felt about you. You didn’t care, Remy made you feel good and you were happy to be making him feel good.

“Ma Belle you’re gonna- make me- ah~”

Remy was starting to get sloppy, and you were feeling a coil in your stomach build.

“Fuck yes my dear I can feel you. I can feel you squeezing my cock, wanting me to cum. Is that what you want?”

His voice was taunting you, as if knowing you’ve had feelings for him for ages. All you could do was nod, no words able to come out aside from screaming Remy’s name and any profanities that came to your head.

“Y-yes my darling. Oh yeah I’m gonna cum inside and that way, everyone will know I’m the only one who gets this. I’m the only one who gets you. Nobody can have you, and I’ll make sure of it.”

Remy had a few more to go, he was waiting for you. Feeling the coil about to snap, you screamed Remy’s name as you felt it break.

“O-oh yeah I’m cumming Ma Chérie… Ma Belle… I’m cumming inside. Fuckkk-“

And with one final thrust, Remy spilled inside you, shaky breaths coming out of both of you as you came down from your highs.

“Fuck. That felt… so good.” Remy spoke before collapsing next to you

You felt the cum spilling out of you, not caring that Remy’s bed was now smelling like the two of you. Remy pulled you close to him, your back pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You felt so drained from this whole endeavor with him, you might as well pass out right then and there.

“Sleep well my angel. Dont worry… I’m going to make sure nobody gets in the way of our love… not even our friends.”

You felt the grip on you tighten a little, Remy not willing to let you go at all.

“I’ll do anything for you… my sweet… I love you.”

A/N: I’m sorry if it sucked I’ll get better. This is literally the first smut I’ve ever written so uh… yeah I hope you enjoyed 😅

[bubonicc-writing]

The Rebound

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3194

Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.

CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)

Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul. 

It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.

You took it.

The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.

Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across. 

Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.

 Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.

A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.

A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.

It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.

Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.

As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.

“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.

He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway. 

He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.

“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.” 

Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.

As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again. 

Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either. 

In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.

Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline. 

Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you. 

Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head. 

Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.

It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit. 

What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.

 He had loved, and he had lost. 

The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip. 

The two of you stayed linked that night.

The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.

You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.

The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.

The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.

“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”

Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself. 

“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.

“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.

“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there. 

Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.

“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”

Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.

“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.

Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster. 

The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.

“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.

“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”

There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.

Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts. 

“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.

“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”

“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits. 

Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.

Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.

“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”

Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him. 

“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime. 

When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.

Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh. 

Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.

It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!” 

He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.

Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.

Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.

Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll. 

With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.

Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.

Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.

Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.

When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.

For once, the wasteland was at peace.

[catbread0]

hihi can I request an x reader for Sebastian with someone whos a similar creature to him but bigger yet they manage to be pretty swift on their tail (to the point its kinda scary/j) /nf !

Sebastian Solace x Experimented! Reader

I hope this meets your request standards! Ty for requesting and sorry for any mistakes.

°ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°

Words: 1,362

Mention of death, fluff, a bit OOC, some curse words

All the information I found is from the official Pressure wiki, urbanshade.org!! NOT FANDOM WIKI (MOST STUFF ON THEIR IS NOT CORRECT, PLEASE CHECK THE OFFICIAL WIKI!!) (Note: I made this before the friendly fire update came out)

Sebastian Solace Masterlist

Peculiar Experiment

Sebastian was going around Hadal Blacksite to find more data and information to blackmail Hadal Blacksite or send the information to rival companies. 

He was currently in a room that had a large window. On the other side of the window was pure water, nothing else. As he was searching through the many desks in the room, he saw in the corner of his eyes something through the window, but when he blinked, it was gone. 

Sebastian thought it was his eyes messing with him and chalked it up to him being blinded by the flashed beacon so many times by multiple inmates who walked into his shop.

As Sebastian continued into another room with another huge window, he found some items to sell to the inmates. He doesn’t actively seek to discover them. He just ends up finding them by accident and decides to make good use of them by trading. 

He saw the figure again, but he couldn’t identify the figure due to the room being dark. 

At first glance from afar, it looked like it was a normal height. However, as the shadow figure drew closer to the glass, Sebastian realized that this unknown monster was not normal in height. He is 10 '6", and somehow that monster was much taller than him!?

Sebastian tried to figure out who exactly this monster was. Until the creature punched their hand through the window. Water started flowing into the hole rapidly, filling the room quickly with water.

Sebastian jumped from the sudden movement and glass shattering. He immediately grabbed whatever he could and slithered out of the room.

The monster saw Sebastian slithering away and wanted to catch up to him. With that, the creature kept breaking the window until they fell into the room. The creature immediately recovered from the impact and started to chase after Sebastian.

Sebastian saw the figure closing up on him somehow, even though he had a whole head start. 

He shouted in an enraged tone to hide the fear that was starting to settle in him, “WHO ARE YOU!? GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!”

He soon reached a room that shut the door behind him. He was trying to shake off the feeling of panic but then heard the noise of rustling behind some desks.

He immediately took out a flashlight he had picked up earlier and pointed toward where the desks that the sound was coming from.

“SHOW YOURSEL-”

Before Sebastian could fully finish his sentence, the same creature jumped towards him. 

The creature was hugging him?? He thought he would surely get killed or something since he was to be killed on sight by Hadal Blacksite.

“I never thought I’d find another specimen like me! Although you are quite small and slow.”

Once the unknown creature let him go, Sebastian got a better look when the creature pulled their anglerfish light, making the room light up a bit. This creature was almost similar to him. They had fin-like ears, a sea snake-shaped body, and a large and long tail. There were some differences. They had a third eye, but on their left side (his eye is on his right side), claw-like hand, but they have 5 fingers (while he has 4). 

But the major difference was the height and speed. They were 17 '3" and extremely fast. You had somehow gotten in the room when the door had closed only a few seconds after he entered. 

“Im specimen Z-##, but my real name is (Y/n)(L/n)”

Ah, now he remembers, he found your folder of what happened to you a few days ago while looking around.

You were an LR-P, or in other words, a low-ranked prisoner who's kept in their cells unless they are called upon for experiments. The experiments would often be dangerous or deadly. You were part of the experiment to give humans gills, just like Sebastian, mixing your DNA with other DNA strands from multiple different sea creatures. After the experiment was a success, you were still an LR-P and sent back to your cell. That was until the lockdown was caused, and you escaped your cell after someone unlocked the doors.

When Sebastian finally got out of his daze and replied, “I didn't expect to do sudden introductions out of my shop today. But since you didn’t kill me, I guess there’s no harm. I'm Sebastian or Z-13, to be exact.”

You continued to talk to him while he continued to collect stuff while heading back to his shop.

“Why are you collecting these folders filled with data from others? It’s not like we can undo what they did to us.” You asked him.

“If I can get enough information, then I can sell these to rival companies or, better yet, blackmail this hellhole of a company.” He spat out the last part with venom in his voice.

After spending time with him, you decided to help Sebastian with his goal if it meant stopping these horrible experiments on other people. 

A couple of months go by, and you slowly start to have feelings for Sebastian. Even if he is snarky, unpredictable, and sometimes violent, he does lend a hand to the inmates who come to his shop. He’s respectful to those who also respect him. This includes you too, since you help out a lot, it helps him have more time to try to reach his goals.

When inmates would disrespect you, whether it be making rude comments about your looks, how tall you are, or using their flash beacon on you. Sebastian would charge the inmates more than usual, or sometimes he would take the flash beacon from them if they bought it from him, or he would defend you by making sneaky comments or mocking them.

You want to tell him how you feel towards him, but you don't want to mess up the friendship that you have with him.

It was another day or night, you couldn’t tell, but it was quiet today. No inmates were coming into the shop today. How rare. Not even the other monsters were making noise like they usually do when there are inmates in the halls.

You let out a sigh of boredom and stretch yourself out a bit, “Did they run out of prisoners to send down here or something?”

“Probably, I mean no one has gotten the crystal yet,” Sebastian said as he pulled on his anglerfish lure to light up the small room.

It was silent for a few minutes before Sebastian spoke again, “Since it seems no one is coming to the shop today. I would like to tell you something.”

Now that grabbed your interest, “Yea? What is it?”

It was silent for a few seconds again before he looked up at you, “I'm going to get straight to the point, I like you and want to be in a relationship with you.”

Well, that wasn't what you expected, but he is unpredictable at times, so you couldn't blame him for that.

“..You couldn’t have been more, you know, romantic? But I do feel the same way about you.” You teased him for his straight forwardness.

“Well there’s nothing romantic I could get from down here, so I might as well do it when no one is here,” Sebastian answers you.

You end up moving towards him, cuddling him. The two of you looked at each other before you leaned down toward him and kissed each other. 

Bonus!

While you and Sebastian were too busy kissing, you two didn't hear someone crawling through the vents.

“Um? What the fuck!? Do that somewhere else other than in the shop man.” 

You pulled away immediately, Sebastian was irritated by the person's comment and their rudeness.

Sebastian whacked the poor inmate back through the vent with his tail. The inmate was thrown out, and since the room on the other side had a big pothole with what seemed an endless bottom, they tragically died.

“...Sebastian…. You know what, just this once I won't scold you for doing that.” You sighed in disbelief while Sebastian had a plastered smirk on his face.

~Lilly's

[kuronarnze]

a/n: soooo yesterday night i was about to sleep and all the suddenly when i was making up random scenarios in my head and boom i suddenly had this idea, wellll enjoy the oneshot !! (Beware of Kaiser being kinda ooc here (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠))

Michael Kaiser x Reader !

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Red Thread, Red Scarf”

You never really stopped thinking about him.

The boy with cold fingers and a fire in his eyes. The one who always laughed like he didn’t feel pain, even when you knew he did. The one who never flinched when someone yelled, but always went quiet when someone reached out to hold his hand.

Michael Kaiser.

You remembered the first time you met—two kids, aged seven, you with yarn in your hands and him with dirt on his cheeks. You had offered him a tiny crocheted keychain that looked vaguely like a cat. He had stared at it like it was the first real gift he'd ever received.

He smiled at you that day. You fell a little in love right then.

But Kaiser vanished when you were fifteen. No goodbye. No note. Not even a whisper in the wind. He was just… gone.

You didn’t know he had gone to jail.

You didn’t know his father had done something so awful, it took everything from him.

You didn’t know.

So you left too. Japan was far, and peaceful, and quiet in the ways Kaiser never was. But the cold in your chest never went away. You crocheted and crocheted like your hands could fill the hole in your heart.

You never finished that red scarf. Not until you were seventeen.

And that’s when you returned to Germany.

The streets were different, but the snow still fell the same.

You were walking through the quieter part of town, bundled in wool and memory, when you saw him.

Bright blond hair—streaked now with blue. Piercing eyes. Taller. Sharper. A bit more arrogant in the way he carried himself.

But it was him. It was Michael. Your Mihya.

He turned as if he felt your stare, and for a second, his expression was guarded. Cold. Then his eyes widened.

“…You,” he whispered.

His voice was deeper. Rougher. But you’d recognize it anywhere.

You ran to him. He didn’t move—but he didn’t step away either.

“Where did you go?” you breathed. “I waited for you. I kept waiting.”

His jaw tensed. “You wouldn’t have wanted to know.”

You reached into your bag. Pulled out the scarf—his scarf. The red yarn now soft and finished, long enough to wrap around him twice. You held it gently, like you always had, and slowly—so slowly—you reached up to wrap it around his neck.

And this time… he didn’t flinch.

Not when your hands brushed his skin.

Not when your fingers tugged it snug.

Not even when you looked up at him with glassy eyes and whispered, “I made this for you. I never stopped.”

He swallowed hard, eyes locked on yours. “…It’s warm.”

You smiled, tears gathering.

“So are you, Mihya.”

The warmth lingered. He let you walk beside him, hands nearly brushing. He didn’t speak at first. Not much of a talker anymore. But he listened when you did.

You told him about Japan. About the silence there, how different it was from home. How you crocheted a hundred little things, but only ever finished one scarf.

You didn’t say it, but you didn’t have to: the scarf was his. Always his.

Kaiser eventually spoke. Bits and pieces. Of the mess his father left behind. Of the cops. The cold walls of the juvenile center. The strange miracle that was Bastard Munchen.

“They saved me,” he said. “But it still felt like I lost everything first.”

“You didn’t lose me,” you whispered. “You never lost me.”

His breath hitched. You looked up to see him staring forward, face tight.

“That’s the thing,” he muttered. “I thought you’d hate me if you knew. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Michael.” You touched his arm. “You were fifteen. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His lip trembled just slightly. “I stole. I fought. I ran. I wasn’t a good kid.”

“But you were still mine.”

That finally broke something in him. He turned to you, eyes wild, the kind of wild that came from years of loneliness and trying to seem untouchable.

“Do you still mean that?” he asked hoarsely.

You reached for his hand. This time, he let you hold it. No flinch. No pulling away. Just your fingers in his, finally, finally.

“Always,” you said.

Snow fell softly on the red scarf around his neck.

And Kaiser, for the first time in a very long time, leaned in.

Not to run. Not to hurt. Not to pretend.

But to rest his forehead against yours, hands trembling, eyes closing.

“Don’t leave again,” he whispered.

You smiled through the tears. “I was waiting for you to come home.”

He still kept the scarf. Still wore it.

Even during training. His teammates teased him for it.

“Is that thing your emotional support scarf or something?”

Kaiser rolled his eyes but didn’t take it off.

Because it was.

It was you.

It was warmth.

And it was the only thing in the world that reminded him he had always been loved—even in the years he thought he wasn’t.

Red thread of fate.

Red scarf of home.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Thank you so much for reading !! Kaiser seems reaally ooc here but ou well 😓. Im obssesed with childhood to lovers troupes HAHAHAH. Anways have a good dayy !

[moldychefboyardeecan]

Too Close!

A Sanji one shot I thought was cute.

WC: 1.17k

Parings: youxsanji

tags: cooking?, comfort, cute,injury,might be ooc

a/n: i get injured/weak..a lot. I often feel like a burden since so many people have to re-accommodate me. So..I guess take it from my perspective, this is how I feel. Last real post before Japan yahoo.!

When it came to Vinsmoke Sanji, you didn’t know how much of a fragile man he is. After finding out, it drew you closer to him. For so long, he kept you stable, a reminder that there’s a window to open, and he would be the sun. Always pampering you and the crew, but always kept his gaze lingering, and you seemed to have matched that too; because every time you meet his eyes, you give him a small smile, while he turns red, his eyes practically becoming hearts.

After a while, you both were more adventurous than before when it came with each other. A giggle here, a laugh there, a brush of hair away from your face and his. It was starting to become more common between the two of you to stay close together. You started washing the dishes after him, and he tried to teach you how to cook. In which you burned your fingers by placing them  too close to the torch when you were trying to flambé something.

“Fuck! Im sorry..” you muttered, placing the finger which was most in pain by your mouth, basically sucking the burn, as if the irritation would go away, but at most, all it did was give you a sense of temporary relief. Sanji took your hand and kissed your finger. “Mon Soleil, it happens. I’ll finish up here. Go to Chopper and I’ll meet you in your quarters to check on you.” Your face turned red and you were giggling— until you realized where you were and this wasn’t a daydream. Then your face, fully red in embarrassment now, gave him a hesitant ‘thank you’ before dashing out of the kitchen, trying to catch your breath from that moment.

Too Close..! Too close! Too-

..Close. A hand holds your shoulder, and by the sleeve, you recognize who it is: Sanji. Too close. But not in a way to not be friends..

..right?

“You okay? You seemed a bit..off in there. I told you to go to Chopper damnit! Not just stand outside the kitchen doors!” He gritted his teeth between his phrases, trying to hold himself back from shaking you back and forth to remind you to get a grip on yourself.

You give off a soft chuckle, in awe of his care and concern for you.

Maybe we can be this close, as friends.

After a good scolding from Sanji reminding you to be careful in the kitchen, Chopper's initial shock from your injury, you were in your quarters, your hand feeling a bit better, your fingers throbbing still. Chopper bandaged your middle and ring finger together, making it a bit harder to move the two fingers on your left hand. You sit on the edge of your bed, and lay your back against the mattress, your legs still hanging on the edge. You were a good wildcard for the Straw Hats, having helped Nami draw a map, and Franky with some repairs. But this injury would have you out of service for a few days, since most of your handiwork on the ship required both hands.

If only I didn’t fuck up that flambé, maybe I wouldn’t be so useless right now.

You sighed and stared at your ceiling, thinking about how you could still stay valuable to these pirates, who allowed you to be here, to be free. Maybe you could practice your switchblade? After all, you fight with that small thing, and you’re often well off just with that.

 No, I’d just hurt my hands more..

Cooking?

I can’t hold the pan right now, I burnt myself today.

Drawing?

My left hand can’t handle the pressure of holding something down.

Reading?

I can’t hold the book.

You groan in frustration, feeling tears form.

Why am I so damn useless right now?!

You get up and place your hand on your counter to carry you up. Your left hand. The sensitive skin behind the bandages react to the sudden pressure and in return you feel the pain burning your fingers again. You hate sitting on your ass, watching everyone work hard while you couldn’t do anything but just that. Watch. Watch how they carry their weight while you have to be put on rest. Watch them sweat while you rest. Watch them laugh. It hurt, knowing that you were on the sides for now. Those thoughts finally broke you, sending tears to your eyes. Trying to hold back a sob, you bite your lip and take deep breath through your nose. You give in to the sadness and start crying, letting it all out, whimpering and sounding like a small child. You move into your bed, away from your table, curling yourself in, leaving your injured arm out, while your other arm wraps around you.

“Am..I, really..that..useless?..” You whisper to yourself, in between sniffles. You felt your other arm wrap around yo— Wait. Your injured arm is still out. You look up and see a blonde man, hair covering one side of his face, only showing one of his big beautiful blue eyes and his curly eyebrows. Sanji.

“No, you aren’t.” He said, rubbing your side while he sat on the edge of your bed. “Trust me, you’re amazing. More than anyone would know. More than we let on, actually.” He ended with a chuckle, feeling his genuine heart echoing from him. He laid his back on the bed, his legs on the edge, as if he were still sitting. “I think I’m probably the biggest burden here, if we’re being honest.” He added.

You try to recuperate your voice back , but all that comes out are hesitant, shaking words. “What makes you say that? You’ve benefited me in many ways.”

He smiles softly, before slowly turning his demeanor to a solemn one. “I'm glad. At least you think I can help.”

Your face stiffens up, and forms a concerned look. “I'm serious. You mean..a lot to me.” You gulp down the anxiety and tension, preparing yourself for anything that would come after that.  “A lot more than I thought.”

He looks up at you, his face melting slowly once again, his eyes already swollen with a quivering lip. “You..mean it?.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

With that, he crashed into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug tight and close.

“Then we can mean a lot to each other.” He cupped your face, and pressed your forehead against his, before pulling your lips into his. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t careless, but a promise. A promise to both of you, to be enough not for everyone, but for the only other people that mattered in the world at that moment: eachother.

You were right. This isn’t too close. This is perfect.

[etherealising]

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Omg, we need a emma d'arcy x fem reader! Pleaseee!!!

Let me help you here

Emma D'arcy x fem!reader

warning : fluff, flirting, comfort, nicknames, no use of Y/n, i really hope emma is not too ooc, i hope all pronouns are right

Summary : The latest season of House of the Dragon is about to start and final filming is underway. Emma as the Queen Rhaenyra finds themself in a quiet scene with a fellow actor and the two need some help from each other getting dressed…professionally of course.

info : normally i don't write for actors but i feel comfortable with it so i hope you like it anon and emma looks like the queen herself too. have fun reading ;)

ps : I love the gif not only a queen but Ewan in the background so sweet

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The acting group needed for the scene had already gathered at the slightly unfinished set. The lights over there were sometimes bright, sometimes dark, with a wide variety of flares and lanterns, some lit with real flames, of course, and some with no real light.

The sets, as you all knew, served mainly as backgrounds for the actors and for the special effects specialists as the big screen which, in addition to the scenery and the actors and props, brought them all to life, giving them that fantasy look.

The large set the hall of Dragonstone went almost to the ceiling thick walls some with steel thickness some finely crafted with foam served as a set. It was really impressive to see how they did it all thought the young actress and let her gaze wander only briefly knowing that the camera was still on her co-worker Matt who was discussing the war plans as Daemon as he had learned.

Especially in the final edit when they had all watched the greasy series together, it was really nice to be back. The camera on the table moved around it again from Matt to her as Daemon looked at the Nachirhct's delivery. ,,Be assured the sea route is supported by Lord Manderly. This also goes out to your ships Lord Corlys your safety is our concern" she said her sentence as scripted letting her eyes wander over the sea route and nodded to Matt and Steve in their roles as Daemond and Corlys who also gave her a nod and thanks before the camera panned back.

It was a few lines she had played a newsbringer a high lady from the lake house as she had done a little research on the internet and even read a little blood and fire. A really good book.

But then she knew her cue when it became quiet at the table and the guards could be heard announcing in loud voices on the set that a queen was arriving. Instead of the short hair, Emma's head was adorned with a long, light-colored wig, which made their face slightly pale, but the expression Simply incredible she thought and looked at the older one who Matt then placed next to her around the table.

There was silence as everyone looked at the Queen, who looked at the card with a broken look of hatred and after another shaky breath gave a determined ,,I will…Aemond Targaryen" everyone lingered like that for a moment before there was a loud ,,Cut!" and a clap was heard and everyone fell out of their roles. Immediately there was talk and laughter, and everyone was curious to see what the scene would look like, ,,What a cute curtsy my lady," she heard Emma say as they came over to her and mimicked the movement, making them both smile.

,,So much training," the younger one mumbled, pretending to strain before D'arcy took the younger one's arm and pulled her along, ,,Nice to see you having fun and everyone going so well," the taller one began, giving her an assuring look.

It was only a small role and she had been in a few smaller TV series here and there, but it was still something completely different, it was really exciting to be around movie legends and such good actors.

A possibility she really appreciated…and maybe she appreciated Emma even more. The English actor was really impressive, even though they only played a few roles, but the expression, the voice and just everything about D'arcy was engaging and so captivating.

,,Everyone take a break, later we might do a post-production but until then you can get out of your costumes!" they heard the head of the costume department say and most of the actors went straight to the dressing rooms and Emma to the caravans.

This time, however, the younger one, who was only a supporting role, was about to say goodbye when the older one took her hand again and pulled her along. ,,I promised you I'd have a Negroni Sbagliato with you, come on, sweetie," they said and before she knew it they were actually in the actor's cozy caravan. Yes, they had made that promise after they realized on the first day they had met that they had not only gone back to the same acting school but had also run into each other more often than they wanted to.

From auditions, to plays and in real life it was almost romance ripe. ,,So with Orange without?" they asked, still standing at the small bar in their full outfits, which made the younger ones smile, ,,As the Queen takes him, so do I," she demanded with a look that went over the actor's body. The dress and the coat and the hair it was so impressive to see how versatile Emma could be.

But she had noticed the younger girl's stare, not just the little smirk on her lips, but when she turned to her and put the drink in her hand, their fingers deliberately touched and Emma let them touch. There seemed to be something between the two of them.

She had often invited Emma to her small but pleasant apartment and they had spent the evenings doing all sorts of things. In return, Emma sometimes invited her to extraordinary restaurants or something, it was like a friendship, even if some of the looks went deeper.

The two of them talked for a while about the costumes and the stunts with the "dragons", how exhausting and yet beautiful it was. She had watched D'acry do some of the flying toes and it looked incredible. ,,I'm glad to see you're enjoying it so much…you see I knew it would do you good not to give up now that we're here together," Emma winked and stood up after taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage before turning around and standing with their back to the younger one.

,,I can get the wig off by myself, but would you mind taking off the dress?" the actor asked and the younger girl jumped at the sight of a slightly rapid heartbeat, slightly sweaty palms and suddenly the alcohol was pounding much harder than usual. ,,Gladly for you-I mean, of course I'll help," she mumbled, stammering, and slowly began to help the taller girl out of her jacket, the smell of Chinoto Dark's citrusy, smoky scent enveloping her now that it had settled on her skin.

She liked the scent strong and yet slightly sweet because of the hint of lemon it was really something nice. ,,All good sweetie?" came the voice of the older one who turned slightly and looked at the younger one who was still holding the jacket in her hand ,,Yes-yes all good" she shrugged and felt the warmth on her cheeks.

Pull yourself together, you're not a schoolgirl anymore, she admonished herself and put the coat away before tying the dress, but she heard the slight smirk and Emma's words, ,,Don't be nervous, you're just undressing the queen," Emma joked, giving her a wink. A wink that only made the younger girl's heart beat faster.

Maybe it was Emma's intention, maybe it was the actor's style, or maybe it was just for fun. Who knew, but as her fingers tightened on the laces, the taller actress held still and let her friend do her thing, stepping out of the dress before reaching for a robe.

The back was nicely defined by the light muscles, not just for acting, the underwear a quick glance and her cheeks almost got hotter. ,,You were a grateful help, sweetie," Emma said, standing in front of the younger girl, they towered over her with their height in addition to the boots.

Her wispy dark blonde hair was slightly tousled and she had to resist tousling it and greenish eyes were looking at her. But then suddenly D'acry reached for her hand and brought it to her lips, placed a grateful kiss on it and seemed about to continue. The moment deepened and the younger girl clung to the fabric of the robe, fearful of falling over in devotion, when a ringing from her cell phone threw her off balance.

,,Fuck," she muttered with a determined look and Emma just smiled again. She picked it up, ,,I'm um what-yes of course-yes I'm on my way," she mumbled as the voice of the debriefing leader at the other end called for her to go over the script again when a few changes were made.

Sighing, she gathered her things and had forgotten all about the actor when Emma held her lightly again, ,,I'll wait here honey," Emma winked and gave one last kiss on the hand before she let the younger actor out of the caravan with an embarrassed look, knowing that something was finally going to happen, just a dance of the actors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Home Again — Vox × Reader

Warnings: Valentino existing, fluff, maybe they're slightly ooc, implied bow-chicka-wow-wow at the end, literally just a drabble — no real plot

Word Count: 692

Summary: You come home after a trip to visit your brother in another ring and Vox is happy to see you.

You weren't sure what to expect when you arrived home from your annual trip to the wrath ring to visit your brother.

Maybe, just maybe, Vox snapped and demanded Valentino to stop appearing in the penthouse whenever he pleased. For all you knew, Vox finally snapped properly and the porn demon was dead.

It was wishful thinking on your end as you eagerly entered the elevator that would take you to the penthouse where you lived with your husband, just in time for your phone to ping in your purse.

Grabbing it, out with your free hand, Valentino's name lit up the screen as another message came through with yet another ping that sounded more passive aggressive than the previous one.

'Your husband is a dick.' Read the first message. You couldn't help but snort in agreement. Vox was a dick, especially since Alastor rolled back into town after his seven year absence, but he was good to you, so you ignored his dickish tendencies and focused on what good he had deep within.

The second message was an image of Vox glaring deadly at Valentino's phone while Velvette took a selfie in the background. Even with the constant pink haze clouding the image, you could tell exactly where they were sitting by the wall of nothing but windows behind Vox.

For a moment, you debated sending a message in return to announce your arrival, but if the blinking red camera in the corner of the elevator was any indication, they already knew.

You're proven right when your husband's nickname with a blue heart behind it appeared at the top of your screen. You clicked on the notification immediately, leaving Valentino on read like you usually did, whether it was intentionally or not.

'Welcome home, gorgeous.' It read, making your heart flutter the same way it did when you first met. You smiled in a loving way only he got to see.

Before you could reply, the elevator began to come to a stop, so you clicked your phone off and slid it neatly back in your purse.

When the elevator doors opened, you stepped out immediately with your suitcase trailing behind. The sound of arguing as well as the smell of one of your favorite candles burning met your senses.

Ironically, it was a gift from Valentino for yours and Vox's eighth wedding anniversary.

Berry Bondage and your husband's raised voice. No better way to arrive home after a long trip.

Leaving your suitcase unattended in the alcove, you rounded the corner and approached the living room.

The clearing of your throat alerted the others. "This is quite the welcome home party." You mused, dropping your purse in the chair furthest away from Valentino.

"You're finally back!"

"About time." Velvette sang happily, removing her phone from in front of her long enough to watch the endearing moment. Finally, she didn't have to listen to him bitch about you being gone!

Vox didn't hesitate to stand and greet you with a long awaited kiss as he practically wrapped himself around you. Six days without you felt like six lifetimes.

When he finally released the kiss, he looked you over closely to make sure you were fine — not a hair out of place or a scratch on your beautiful face.

"Voxy, honey, I'm completely fine." You said assuringly, a smile blossoming as he let out a sigh.

He eventually nodded and guided you to where he had been sitting before, pulling you onto his lap before your ass could hit the plush cushion beside him.

You raised your eyebrows at him.

"It's been six days, you're sitting right here." He said. You obliged, leaning into his chest as lighter conversation began flowing within the large room.

Though within an hour of you being home, Vox began finding reasons for the other Vees to leave. Some got the hint sooner than others.

Once it was made clear, both were gone and he began trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder. . . The rest was history.

You couldn't help but be happy that you were finally home again. Home with your husband, your love, your Vox.

[airybcby]

I Can Fix Him (no really, i can)

a / n — this is his song and you cannot convince me otherwise

content — otoya eita x fem! reader, cheating eita (canon i fear)(kinda on reader), nicknames such as ‘princess’ and ‘pretty’ used, tbh delusional reader (me too tho), ooc eita (this man wouldn’t change for anyone really), lmk if i missed anything!!

synopsis — Otoya Eita has a reputation for cheating, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. When he starts dating you, everyone warns you it'll end the same way. But you believe you can change him, convinced your love is different.

✿.｡. “ but your good lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, ” .｡.✿

The whispers started the moment you and Otoya Eita made your relationship public. "He's a cheater," they said. "He'll break your heart just like he did to the others." But you were determined. You saw something in him that others didn't, a man who just needed the right type of love to fix him.

Everyone’s mutterings of “god help her…” when you told them that you were dating eita only gave you more encouragement. You’d prove them wrong, you could fix him- you really could.

Eita wasn't just a star player at Blue Lock; he was also notorious for his charm and the string of girls he left behind. Even in elementary school he had kissed 75% of the girls and 50% had confessed to him!! (with a bowl cut like that, you weren’t sure why,but lest we forget).

Yet, when he was with you, he seemed different. More genuine, more vulnerable. You could fix him. Maybe to anyone else this would seem like a project you were doing, but really, you could change this man.

It was a rainy afternoon when the first real test of your relationship came. You had planned a quiet evening together, but Eita was late. Very late. Your phone buzzed with a message from a friend:

Saw Otoya with another girl at the cafe. Be careful.

Your heart sank, but you pushed the doubt aside. This was your chance to prove everyone wrong. You didn’t need their mutters for a savior to keep your feelings safe. You didn’t need to prove them wrong, really their opinions should’ve meant nothing, but you wanted to. Eita wasn’t like that, you thought.

You called him, your voice steady despite the strange doubt you’d had building inside of you. After the third ring he’d finally picked up, and before he could even say hello you were interrogating him, "Eita, where are you?"

"I'm on my way," he replied, his voice casual, almost too casual. As if he’d been preaching this same lie to every girl he’d had waiting on him for the longest time.

When he finally arrived, you could see the raindrops clinging to his hair, his usual confident and cool demeanor slightly off. "Sorry, I got caught up with some team stuff," he explained, avoiding your eyes.

God help you.

You took a deep breath. "Eita, were you with someone else?" He paused, then met your gaze, his eyes clouded with something you couldn't quite place. You’d had many talks with him about lying. all you wanted from him was the truth.

“Well…yeah. but she’s just a friend, really.” The old you would have believed him without question, but now you needed more. You’d been together for half a year now, and this conversation had happened twice too many times. "I need you to be honest with me, Eita. If we're going to make this work, you have to let me in and be the only girl you’re seeing. or else this isn’t going to continue.”

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then his shoulders slumped. "I don't want to hurt you. But I don't know if I can change. It's who I've been for so long." To anyone else, it may have sounded like a lame excuse, but eita had never said something like this to you before. the look in his eyes was something that no one could deny: guilt.

You reached out, taking his hand. "I need you to meet me halfway in this relationship. We can fix this. No other girls, and i’ll stop talking to anyone else.” (you hadn’t been talking to anyone, but you wouldn’t let eita feel like you were his judge, jury, and executioner)

Days turned into weeks, and the effort was exhausting. There were moments of doubt, moments when you wondered if you were fooling yourself. But there were also moments of tenderness, of breakthroughs. Eita began just waving to fan girls instead of flirting with them. He’d stopped winking at waitresses in order to get a discount. This was progress, you’d thought.

You were scared he’d mess this up, prove you a fool to everyone you’d cared for. But you wouldn’t give up. Not on this relationship, not on helping eita fix this streak of cheating, not on eita in general.

The road was long, and the whispers never truly stopped. But every day, you and Eita took another step forward. It wasn't perfect, and there were setbacks. But there were also victories, small moments that proved love's transformative power.

And as the seasons changed, so did Eita. The boy who once broke hearts now cherished yours, holding it with a care that made all the struggles worth it. Because in the end, it wasn't just about fixing him. It was about growing together, finding strength in each other's flaws, and building a love that was uniquely yours.

✿.｡. “ i can fix him, no really i can…or maybe i can’t ” .｡.✿

likes , comments , and reblogs are always appreciated!!

[tainted-liquor]

'Tiny hands; Little Baby ...ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ ft. 42Miles

...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

✩ingredients: Sugar, kisses, and baby powder!

˙⟡TWs: Cussing, Miles speaks mostly Spanish, so ready ur spanishDict

✩A/N: Miles is soft when it comes to his children. Its not ooc, he was based off of MY sisters father. parents usually 'calm down' after having babies. pls don't start complaining

When you think of the ideal father, you usually would think of two types of people. The happy-go-lucky super kind and outgoing person, or someone who balances both fun and order. You never in your life expected to be a mother, or even wanted kids as a matter of fact. But everything changed when you met him. Miles.

Admittedly, when you met in high school shit was rocky. Typical 'anti-social social' kid. Everybody knew him, but nobody was ever able to say they talked to him. But things slowly began to change as the school year passed, and you seemed to pop up more and more in each other's lives. Art projects, a shared interest in graffiti, seating charts in chem, and ending up at the same bodega during the wee hours of the night.

You waltzed into the small store, grabbing a tube of Pringles and a bottle of cherry Faygo. You had a project to get done within the next 5 hours and spent 3 days working nonstop so you wouldn't fail this semester. Your eyes were low and sleepy, your movement was slower than average and it looked like you had been crying. A lot. What is a girl supposed to do when she feels like her life is being drowned out by constant numbers and big words?

You waited by the counter, tapping away on your phone as you waited for the man behind the glass to finish making your chop cheese, slowly raising your head to see who just swung open the door. You made eye contact with Miles for a brief moment, nodding upward as a form of greeting before suddenly being startled. Miles's eyes widened for a moment, taking a tiny step back as he took in how sleepy you looked. Your hoodie wasn't even on properly, one arm completely off your shoulder and exposing a fraction of your black tank top to the world around you. "Well damn, nigga. I know I look like shit but don't make it obvious" you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dropped your head back to your phone screen.

"Oh, my bad. Just not used to seeing you outside of school" he shrugged, making his way to the counter to order his food and standing next to you in silence. You both tapped away on your phones, scrolling through your Instagram while you waited for your sandwich. There was nothing else to it, really. You both waved bye to each other as you left the store, silently building a smidge of a relationship compared to being just strangers. For the most part, it was like that at school too.

There was no real reason to talk to him, outside of a small hallway talk and a nod or a wave. And it stayed like that for a long time, until a random day in the school's library. Miles came strutting through the oak wood doors, seemingly pissed off as he slammed his supplies on a nearby table and started working silently. You side-eyed him, continuing to blast the music in your headphones until you felt a presence begin getting closer to you. You grabbed one of your AirPods, removing it from your ear as Miles stood over you.

"Hmm?" You hummed, looking up at him as you paused your music. He said nothing, only showing you a piece of paper with honors calculus work. "Do you need help?" you asked, scanning over the paper briefly before putting your AirPods in your case. He nodded, letting you take the paper from him as he leaned against the table. "Aight, sit down. I'm only doing one problem though" you muttered, scooting your chair over to make room for Miles.

When Miles left that table, you were closer than normal. You spent the rest of the afternoon helping him 'study' (talking to each other while he finished his work) and exchanging numbers and Instagram. "Good luck with your test!" You smiled, waving from across the room as he left the library. He gave you a nod before swiftly exiting, leaving people asking you left and right "What's Miles like?" You didn't think anything of it, at all.

You never would have imagined that that same boy would be the father of your child almost ten years later.

“MILES!” You shouted as loud as humanly possible. “SÍ? QUÉ HICE??” He shouted back from the kitchen. “MY FUCKING WATER BROKE START THE CAR!” You yelled as you stared down in absolute shock. And it was absolute chaos from there. Miles was practically stumbling out of the house as he ran to start the car, muttering curses as he ran up to get you out of your shared room.

Unfortunately for Miles, he had no idea what was happening. He was terrified but tried to be as supportive as possible through the entire situation. He was out cold for most of the delivery, having fainted 10 minutes in from anxiety. "Sir? SIR-!"

BOOM

But other than that, everything went amazing! He cried for 20 whole minutes when he got to hold his beautiful baby girl. "W-what...sniffle... are you going to...sob...name h-her, love?" he asked between a puddle of tears. You took a good look at your baby through soaked eyes, realizing she was born...quiet. She had one green eye, and one dark brown eye that was taken right from her father's face, a cute little button nose, and a head full of placenta-permed hair. She cried once the entire birth and remained silent the rest of the way, just like her nonchalant-ass daddy. "I'm thinkin' about...Asomi" you replied before bursting out in tears, causing Miles to burst even further into tears.

You attempted to reach for your baby, earning a watery glare from your boyfriend. "Nigga I JUST PUSHED HER OUT! GIMME MY BABY!" you giggled as you attempted to grab your daughter. "nuh-uh. I'm not done holding her" he retorted, flashing you a middle finger as he held Asomi even closer. "Miles Gonzalo Morales."

"Lo siento. Te amo mucho. Tú eres muy bonita y inteligente" he quickly replied as he handed your daughter over.

And from that moment forward, everything in Miles's life revolved around his beautiful family. He spent hours rambling on and on to 'Omi', as he calls her, about anything under the sun. "Entonces," Miles began as he attempted to give 'Omi a sink bath. "Tú mami me dijo que necesito hablar más inglés a ti. I won't though, cuz you're my lil princess" he whispered as he curved Omi's hair into a bubbly mohawk and giggled like a child. He played with the bubbly water, pretending to be one of the countless tiny rubber duckies she had floating around in the water.

"Alright, c'mon. Necesito vestir tú antes consigue frío" he giggled as he put the kid in a prowler onesie you told him not to buy. He blew raspberries on Asomi's little belly, earning adorable giggles from his daughter as he carried the tiny baby with one arm. He cleaned up some of the toys on the floor, briefly pushing them inside the toy bin before grabbing the tiny purple pacifier and soft wooly lamb-lamb plush. Omi clung to his shirt, laying her head on his shoulder as she held the tiny lamb-lamb plushie. Miles kissed her on the forehead, sat down on the couch, and fell asleep with Omi dozing off right beside him.

You came home to two of your two favorite people in the world snuggled up on the couch. Omi's tiny hand gripped Miles's shirt as Miles held her like an inmate protecting his tray. You giggled to yourself, snapping a quick pic for the memories before joining their 'nap circle'.

"G'night, pretty babies" you whispered, pressing kisses on both of their cheeks.

"Mmh...noches."

...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Taglist:

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @kxllanxtdoor

Taglist form on my profile !! pls fill that out to be added <3

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

FULL POST IS OOC — we're gonna ignore any errors that may have previously occurred, this post goes out to the anon who asked me to write the scenes of stevepop going out for steve's birthday!

It's after-hours now, Lottie had taken over working the DX for the rest of the night so Soda could get off early and celebrate with Steve.

It's Steve's (late) birthday, and how do Soda and Steve celebrate? Well... with quite the night, I'll tell you that much.

The night started as soon as they raced out of that parking lot. Despite Steve starting the car, Soda was driving.

Speeding down the one-way street to Steve's house, Soda pulled roughly into Steve's driveway with a harsh right turn, pushing Steve out of the truck. “C'mon, hop to! We got places to be, boy! We're runnin' late!” Soda teased him. Steve pushed back before getting out. “Alright, I can hear ya!” He stumbled out of the truck, slamming the door and sticking his tongue out at Soda as he ran up the porch steps.

Steve dashed inside of the house, taking roughly 12 minutes before he hops back out. 12 specifically, because that's as long as Soda can count for — and that's how long it took.

The brunette was decked out in a leather jacket and clean blue jeans when he came out. Soda whistled low and playful, jokingly flirting with Steve and kicking the door back open for him. “Well, look at you, top-greaser!” Soda hooted, flipping Steve's collar and popping it out affectionately.

Steve laughed, blushing softly as he combed his curls back with a thin-tooth comb as he pulled himself back into his seat. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save the flirting for later. Let's go, party boy. You said the gang was waitin' for us.”

Soda happily obliges, turning out of the driveway just as aggressively as they entered, racing his way around the block to his house.

“Hey Stevie! Happy birthday, buddy!” Says Two-Bit, a beer already in hand as he tugs Steve out of the truck into a tight right-side hug. Steve winces, feeling at the scratches and cuts from earlier before patting Two-Bit on the back. “Thanks.”

“Well, c'mon! Don't just stand there, we got cake and food to eat!” Darry hollered from the doorway. He had an apron and some mits on, looking like a full chef with how covered in ingredients he was right now. Soda and Steve both looked at each other and laughed at the scene, before hurrying their ways inside.

Two-Bit passes Steve a beer of his own, and Steve places it to the side later to take with him. They both sit on the couch as the Curtis brothers all work around the house setting things up, Soda bringing in the food from the DX, Ponyboy rushing around to get 18 candles, and Darry doing all the rough work to set up the table.

“So. How goes it?” Two-Bit gruffs, holding the air in his chest before he quickly exhales gas with an awkward 'scuse me.' Steve just shrugs. “Dunno. Got beat by some guys earlier, they got my ass real good.” He lifted up his shirt to show Two the bandages on his side. Two-Bit cringed at the sight. “Goddamn, Randle.”

Two-Bit shook his head, and Steve rolled his shirt back down. “Not what I meant though.” He smirked, nudging Steve and nodding to Soda, who was running into the kitchen for Darry. “Y'know. You finally... doin' the thing?”

Steve froze up, immediately looking down at his hands in his lap. “I– I dunno, Two. It's... It's a lot right now.” Two-Bit groaned, leaning back and stretching his legs out dramatically. “It's been a lot for a while now, Steve! When are you just gonna—” His voice grew to a whisper, “—When are you gonna say somethin', man?!”

Steve began awkwardly, before being interrupted as Darry hollered, telling everyone to get into the kitchen. They sang the song, ate the cake, blew out the candles, shoved Steve's face into said cake and then cleaning him up right after. Ponyboy passed Steve a letter, telling him to read it later. He just nodded and pocketed the note.

After about an hour of messing around some more and playing cards—doing the typical things they always did when they hung out, only now with a cake to accompany them—Soda quickly dragged Steve away from the table.

“Well, I hate to break it ta everyone, but unfortunately the birthday boy has asked his birthday wish be hanging out with ME, tonight, so!” Soda flashed a proud grin. Ponyboy rolled his eyes, and Two-Bit n' Darry both just nodded and smiled back.

Steve made small protests, “Well– I– We don't have to leave yet, I just–” Despite it though, Soda gave him a knowing look and Steve just sighed, giving in to the fact Soda knew he was ready to leave.

So they did.

The two of them sped down lanes, parking at random spots on the roads and running down the city streets to go into stores and blow the money that they had earned for Steve's birthday.

“Could be savin' this cash on yer college tuition.” Soda teased, nudging Steve with an elbow, as if he wasn't carrying some ugly fedora hat and trying it on suavely. Steve burst out into laughter, he was trying on a fancy scarf of his own. “Yeah, well, this is birthday money. Not college money. I'm sure I got plenty'a that.”

They had left the street-strip mall with about 5 bags each, all full of random impulse purchases of things they just wanted. And some of things they managed to steal. They were both cracking up laughing, cackling about some old lady who bitched to them about how they looked. Steve made some real mean remark to her that had them both belly-laughing.

“Oh, jesus...” Soda exhaled, giggling still as he looked over at Steve in the seat beside him. Steve was wiping the tears he had from laughing so damn hard off his face. He was still catching his breath from laughing and running.

They both looked at each other now, smiles so big on their faces that it practically hurt to stare at each other. They paused, before breaking back into laughter again as they shot off again through the streets.

They began to slow down as they hit country roads, going from concrete to gravel roads as they transitioned, the rocks smacking the back of the truck loud as they eased down the path.

They came down to this miniature tunnel, that was decorated in spraypaint tags and who knows what else. The tunnel itself was quite short, only about 10 feet tall, and just about 15 in length. The truck eased through, and they stopped just as they entered the tunnel.

Soda turned the truck off, hopping out and grabbing a blanket from the back and a couple other things before he made his way to the bed of the truck and pulled the door open. He began setting things up as Steve reached over to the cupholder and snatched up the beer he got from Two-Bit an hour before, leaning out the window and popping the bottle open on the door handle, nearly cutting himself in the process.

The two of them made their ways to the back of the truck, hopping into the bed with blankets and snacks. Soda looked over at Steve and smiled softly.

“So? Terrible birthday still?”

Steve just let out a long breath. “Nah. This is nice.” He was staring out at the sky. The sun had set about 2 hours ago, leaving them in the dark with just the stars for light. “Way better than this morning.” He took a swig from his beer, cussing at the taste. It was cheap. Should've known, taking one from Two-Bit.

Soda snickered, taking out a pack of cigarettes from Steve's pocket and a box of matches. He packed the cigarettes on his palm, before taking one out and stuffing it into his mouth. “Yeah? Well, good! I sure hope it's been!” Soda lit his cigarette with a swift flick of the wrist, memorized motions to get the stick burning.

He took a puff, before holding out to Steve, who leaned over and took a puff of his own from Soda's hand. “Mm.” He smiled and nodded, pulling away and letting Soda take it back. “No, yeah... This is really nice.”

He took another swig. Soda smoked silently, and Steve drank just as quiet. They both sat there in the silence for a moment, staring up at the sky and listening to the crickets and bugs flitter and cry around them.

Steve took a shaky breath on his third sip, clutching the bottle close to his chest. Soda looked over, head tilting curiously. “Y'okay?”

“I–” Steve thought real hard for a moment. He turned to Soda. “Can– Fuck.” He turned away, shaking his head.

Soda blinked, taking another puff from his cigarette before moving closer. “Steve?”

Steve looked around for anything, something, trying to grab at the air around him with his eyes for an escape. He already dug himself into a hole without even trying to.

He turned around real quick, immediately coming close to Soda's face. He frowned.

“...You okay?” Soda spoke soft and quiet, his eyebrows were knit together in confusion and concern. Steve just shook his head and laughed pitifully. “No.”

They both sat there, nose to nose. Breaths short and closed as to not breathe too heavily on the other person. Steve was shaking all over, the alcohol already making him feel silly.

“Soda, can I kiss you?”

Soda's eyes widened, and he quickly moved away. As soon as he did so, Steve already knew it was over. He covered his mouth with his hands.

“I'm sorry–” “Yeah.”

Steve paused, he looked terrified. Soda was unusually calm. It bugged Steve. He didn't know what the fuck was happening right now. It felt like a damn dream.

“...Yeah?”

Soda giggled. “Well, I mean, if you want to. But, uhm... what about–?” Soda made a gesture, and Steve just hummed.

“It– It doesn't have to mean anything. I just...” He thought for a second. “I dunno, it just seems to be so demanded upon us by the universe, we may as well just try once, right?” He laughs awkwardly, dropping his hand.

Soda shook his head and laughed as well. “Tell me about it...” He moved closer suddenly, leaning in carefully. “All up to you.”

“Oh yeah? What happened with you and your...?” Steve teased, making the same gesture as Soda did before. Soda smiled. “Well, I ain't datin' her. It's just goin' out for right now. I can always change my mind still.”

“Mmmm... So you're a liar to yer papers, huh?” Steve leaned in, his eyes locking in on focus for his next move. Soda raised an eyebrow. “You been sneaking peeks at my conversations, Stevie?”

Steve laughed against Soda's breath, shaking his head just barely, not to make much movement. “Mm-mmh. They just like t'tell me stuff.”

“Oh...” Soda paused, before going in for the kill.

The two of them closed their eyes tight as it happened, holding for a good few seconds and readjusting. And then they pulled away.

Steve was red in the face, his eyes fluttering back open suddenly as Soda tugged back. Soda was laughing, wiping his mouth. “God, you taste awful.”

Steve blushed further more. “Oh, shit.” He wiped his own mouth. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot... beer.” He looked down at his bottle, before being abruptly pulled back up by a hand as Soda kissed him again.

His whole body stuttered on contact, and he scrambled to reciprocate. His heart was thumping loud in his ears and hard in his chest. So much was happening, and yet Soda was so... normal about it.

This time, Steve pulled away. He was the one laughing. “Well, okay.” He stared for a moment, noticing now that Soda wasn't being normal, he was crying. “Jesus, Soda.” Steve quickly brought his hands up to Soda's face, wiping tears.

“I'm so sorry...” Soda whimpered, he was still smiling, but Steve could tell now it was just so he wouldn't worry.

Steve shook his head. “It– don't be. It's okay. Uhm–” He collected the blanket behind them, wrapping it tight around Soda. “Fuck, no, I should be apologizing. This is... God.”

Soda shook his head. “I can't, Steve. I'm so– I'm so sorry.” Steve just huffed in response.

“...I know. Not yet. That's– it's okay. Really. I can– I can wait longer. Honest.”

Soda mumbled something that sounded jumbled from the way he was sobbing, and Steve couldn't decipher what the hell he said. He just jumped off the truck and pulled Soda off, collecting the blonde in his arms and carrying him into the truck.

“Just– shut up. It's okay. Fucking hell, Soda.” Steve could feel himself crying now. Everything suddenly hurt so badly. The alcohol wasn't making it help any.

Steve closed Soda's door, and he folded up everything in the bed before he made his way fully around to the drivers side, hopping in and looking outside one more time before starting the truck back up.

And then they left.

[dixons-sunshine]

Look At Me | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Scud never wanted you to get hurt. If he had known what would happen, he never would’ve let you out of his sight. However, there was nothing he could do to change what happened, and he could only hope that you could keep your eyes open long enough until he could help you.

Genre: Angst.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, injuries.

Word count: 1.1k.

A/N: Is Scud potentially ooc in this? Yes. Do I care? Not really. I need some soft!Scud in my life. Also, I just had a lot of feelings and placed it into this as a way to feel a bit better. I think this is the first story I’ve ever written that had a ‘cliffhanger’ ending. Might expand on it, might not. Guess y’all will have to wait until next Saturday to see. Anyways, (not-so) happy Scud Saturday!

Joshua “Scud” Frohmeyer was rarely a serious man. He had a care free spirit and a positive outlook on life. You would rarely catch the stoner without a huge grin on his face. It took a lot for him to drop his happy, free spirited demeanour.

So when Scud was unable to crack a joke to lighten up the dire situation you were in, you knew that your predicament was worse than you would have liked.

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you. I got you. You’re gonna be just fine, Baby. I promise.”

Despite his attempts at reassuring you, your whimpers of pure, unadulterated agony did not cease, nor did your shivers from being absolutely soaked from the rain you had been carried through to get to the van. However, the man that held you within his own soaked, shivering embrace could not find it in himself to blame you. Those vampires that had kidnapped you had done quite the number on your emotional and physical well-being, so it came as no surprise that you were unable to hide the extent of your pain. And each turn and bump of the vehicle the half-blooded day walker was driving only further accentuated your misery. Scud tried his absolute best to try to keep you as comfortable as he possibly could, but his attempts were proving to be futile.

“It hurts,” you cried, tears streaming from your eyes. Your battered and bruised form screamed in protest when you tried to move to make yourself more comfortable, punishing your efforts by sending out more waves of pain through out your body. “Josh...” you trailed off with a quiet whimper, your hand tightening its grip on your boyfriend’s bigger one.

In answer, Scud gently rubbed his thumb over your bruised knuckles, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your forehead, his other hand continuing to put pressure on your wound. “I know, Baby. Just hold on a bit longer, okay? We’re almost there. We’re gonna fix you up real good, I promise.”

You could not find it in yourself to argue with him. You could feel your eyes growing heavier with each second that ticked away on the metaphorical clock, the darkness luring you to its comforting depths like a siren’s song. The blood that gushed from the horrible wound in your abdomen dripped down onto the floor of the van, making you acutely aware of the reality that your injury wasn’t as minor as Scud had tried to make it out to be. You attempted to bring yourself into a seated position to peer down and examine the true extent of the injury Scud had his hand pressed against, but your boyfriend stopped you.

“Nah, don’t look at it,” he told you, his eyebrows furrowed together. Never before had you seen Scud look quite so serious. His light, care free attitude had been what made you fall head over heels for him in the first place. It took a great deal for him to lose his usual nonchalant demeanour, so that was all the confirmation you needed that you were in a dire situation.

Not that you needed that as confirmation, however. Your aching body already did quite the impressive job of telling you so regardless.

You let out a small, bitter laugh, the action sending a wave of pain throughout your body. “I’m going to die,” you whispered, your previous laugh being contradicted with the tears that fell from your eyes.

That comment sent Scud into a spiral. He vigorously shook his head at your statement. “You ain’t gonna die. Not on my watch.” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself. He willed the tears that formed in his eyes away, well aware that you needed him to be strong. However, when he opened his eyes again, his heart stopped when he saw your eyes begin to droop. “No. No, look at me. Just look at me.” He gently grabbed your chin in one of his calloused, work-worn hands and forced you to look at him. “Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes. Think of something to keep you awake.”

“Like what?” you asked him softly. His hand fell away from your face, his arms instead wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

Scud desperately wracked his mind to come up with something. Then, something clicked in his mind. “What’s my word of the day?”

His word of the day. Despite the fact that the man had the brains of Einstein when it came to conjuring up bombs from body lotion and talking about whatever came with fixing up vehicles, you had quickly realized that he oftentimes used words in the wrong context. So in exchange for being taught how to build flamethrowers and other cool things that came with it, you vowed to help improve his vocabulary.

You tried to wrack your hazy mind for a word you had yet to use, thankfully landing on one you, too, had only recently discovered the meaning of. “Abstruse,” you managed to murmur.

“Abstruse?” Scud repeated, his head tilting to showcase his confusion, an action you always found too adorable. “What’s that mean?”

You hesitated for a moment, attempting to recapture your breath that was steadily shortening. “It means ‘difficult to understand’.”

“Oh. Think you can use it in a sentence for me?”

You knew what Scud was doing. He was doing everything in his power to keep you awake. “Sure,” you wheezed, a cough wracking through your body. You knew that wasn’t a good sign, but you chose not to comment on it. Thinking about your current predicament would only make you spiral. Your tears hadn’t stopped, but had slowed down considerably, possibly due to the fact that the pain in your body had given way to a woozy feeling instead—another sign that you weren’t going to last much longer. “So, uh, abstruse. ‘Your handwriting made the letter abstruse’, so basically, ‘your handwriting made the letter difficult to understand’...” you trailed off, your eyes drooping closed against your will.

Scud let out a small chuckle at that. “Is that supposed to be a jab at my handwriting? Y’know I’ve been working on improvin’ it, Sweetheart.” When you didn’t respond, Scud looked down at you. His heart stopped when he saw your closed eyes. “Y/N? Baby?” He gently shook you a couple of times, desperately trying to wake you up, but to no avail. “Y/N!” His heart began to pound against his chest. He leaned forward and hit the metal of the van a couple of times. “B, ya gotta hurry the fuck up! Now!” He turned his attention back to you, the tears now falling freely from his cerulean eyes. He put more pressure against your wound, hoping the action would somehow managed to wake you up. “Don’t worry, Baby. I got you. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Scud just sincerely hoped that he would be able to keep his promise.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

At Least There's One

Mostly dainsleif x gn reader (honestly could be platonic or romantic)

I don’t remember if he knows who the archons are. Possibly slight ooc dainsleif. This also got out of hand 

Warnings: you get a broken forearm and mentioned other ways of being harmed

Not proofread

Thinking of sagau again. What if you started wearing a mask and they accepted it as you'd change your face if you could? 

They absolutely despised you from looking like their creator (who is actually you but neither they nor you knew that), and have called you every name and even some harm at some point. But at least they're sane enough to understand that faces are genetic from birth. (I also believe teyvat isn't progressed far enough for beauty stuff like plastic surgery, so they knew you COULDN'T change your face.) 

So one day you had enough and just… started wearing a mask of some sort. Even a simple bandana worn like a treasure hoarder's seemed to work. Sure, they still didn't like you very much, but at least they weren't physically hostile and you could actually buy some stuff for foods. You were getting quite sick of just berries and not the best cooked meat. 

You knew ingredients for the recipes from memorizing them from playing genshin, but most if not all don't tell you exactly how long to cook it, always making you overcook or undercook it and just never coming out right or tasting very good.  

That's all you wanted and you weren't ever coming into a place full of people again until you absolutely had to. Every time one of your favorites glare at you it hurts so much more. The only thing you want to do is search harder for a way back to your real world but that better be possible in the wild. 

In speaking of that, it's almost funny to you how willing places were to give you recipes and even ingredients for stuff like hair products when you informed you were planning on stocking up and want to stay out of cities and even towns as long as possible. 

While traveling and stocking up, you thought of the best place to be. Dvalin seemed to be rather kind to you that one time you ran into him, but you knew he was close to Venti and he’d visit Dvalin a lot. He’d… probably not like you hanging so close very much. 

Liyue has so many mountains and you do NOT want to push Zhongli’s patience, whatever it may be. You’d rather not die by a rock or spear. 

Which is also why inazuma is out of the question. You don’t know where the traveler is, and you don’t even know if the puppet’s been changed yet or not. 

Sumeru is an okay option, but running into the rangers would be annoying, and no way are you going to the desert. 

Fontaine would possibly be okay, but that’s so incredibly far from where you are in mondstadt that you decide not to. And past that you haven’t played or experienced so no going other places either. 

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

Your bag is pretty much full as you go to leave. 

You’re distracted though and not looking in front of you, still thinking of where to go when you bump into someone. 

You look and know who it was immediately. You wonder because of who he is, would he act like the others or no?

He notices the glare the archon is giving you from quite a distance away. What could you have possibly done to make him not like you like this?

“Sorry! Wasn’t looking where I was going!” You were really worried you were about to be verbally beaten down again. 

“It’s fine. I forgot what I came here for anyways.” He didn’t, but he could just get it later. He left with you to spite the look the anemo archon was giving you. 

You two get a pretty far distance away from Mondstadt. “Care to explain why the archon seemed to hate you so much?” 

You decided the best way to tell was to show, and took off your mask. “Apparently I look like their creator?” You decided to continue with a lie in a way. “Which I wouldn’t know since I don’t really focus or care about gods or the archons or whatever.” 

He was astounded. That’s all? The only offense you’ve done is literally look like some fictional god or the “creator” he’s never seen or cared to read much about? He didn’t know the archons could find a way to be even worse. 

“I’m also looking for a place without people. No offense but uh, you seem like someone who’d know a good place for that.” 

He shakes off his slight stupor. “I usually don’t stay in a single place for long, but I do know a few.”

He leads you to a really isolated place that took a few hours of walking, but you managed. He even offered to help carry some of your items which surprised himself and you from knowing how he is. 

Your stomach rumbles loudly, embarrassing you. “Sorry. Sadly they wouldn’t let me order food and eat in the city.” 

He’s finding this situation more and more stupid. “That’s fine. Should be pretty easy to set a fire and make some food.”

It’s eventually made and you actually were able to follow a bought detailed recipe of a food you really wanted to try in the game. Looks just like it would. You offer some to Dainsleif which he relents and accepts after a bit of pestering by you. 

The first bite was the best thing you’ve tasted in literal months. It was so good you teared up.

A galaxy looking tear falls from your face, hardening into a solid mass as it falls onto your lap.  They’re not very small either. They somehow become triple in size of an average tear. Then another. And even a few more from just the delicious taste coming to you fall. You don’t even notice.

Dainsleif gets a very bewildered expression. He barely remembers reading about the so-called “creator” but that’s a sign of them that no matter what magic is used can’t be replicated. You… you’re really the creator he thought was fiction. And the strong believing archons… Even their people… He could almost laugh at the absurdity. 

One is still only half-made and sticking to your face. After another moment, it disappears like it was never there. The solid ones are still in your lap though.  

It wasn’t the last time you’d tear up either. A time not too long after that you were kidnapped after falling asleep. Dainsleif left to do who knows what, but you thought you’d be fine alone. 

They’re treasure hoarders. They’re not known to be very nice, and especially aren’t to you, who’ve they heard of as an imposter. While you were tied up one even went so far as to break your forearm. That hurt severely, making a few slip and them all stop dead in their tracks as a solid tear hit the ground. 

Thankfully Dainsleif saw them and you from coming back wherever he was. A protective urge formed from him actually rather liking you. The more he thought about it, the more he was open to liking you and having you as a god other than the archons and celestia. Why? Because being Human. That’s what you were, human. 

His mind made up you wouldn’t have had gods if you could. After all, you let Khaenri'ah form back then. There were gods, but if people didn’t want one, they didn’t have to believe in one. You let people be who they were, and he wouldn’t doubt you would have saved Khaenri'ah more if you could have. But he’s still here, so it isn’t fully gone. You let him stay the best of your abilities to spite the Archons. He likes you’re not all-powerful as well. At least not in this time you decided to come here. Maybe you needed to be human a while to get your strength back? 

Even if not the case, he now wants to be around you. To protect you the best he can, even if it isn’t the best. He also swears when he focuses on it that his curse feels slightly weaker when around you.

He injures them but doesn’t kill them. Just to send a message. 

The treasure hoarders end up letting the info slip next time they’re out of their disguises in mondstadt and liyue, making the two archons hunt you down do apologize for not believing you were. 

They surprisingly work together and find you and Dainsleif rather quickly. 

You’re laying on your back in the grass with your broken arm in a pretty poorly made cast and holding one of the solid tears in your other hand, turning and moving it to watch the sparkles like stars in it move as well. A part of you wishes you could bring one home with you. They’re actually really cool looking. 

Dainsleif tried his best to make a cast but obviously he’s not an expert in the medical field. He's resting as well fairly close to you. Honestly your thighs are almost touching. 

The archons notice and are quite envious. They glare at Dainsleif. 

He senses their presences and turns to look. Having you look as well.

They're shocked with the black shining item in your hand, and just realized all this time they were ignoring the real creator. Not again! They will NEVER ignore you again! “How dare you keep the creator to yourself.” Zhongli says harshly. 

What? You and Dainself share a rather incredulous look. Then go back to looking at the two archons again. 

This makes him hate the archons all the more. He didn’t really care about even the creator before, but at least he had and still has respects for them. And they really didn’t even think of finding a way to test it? Someone shows up for the first time ever in history with the face of the creator and they don’t question it?

How dumb, even the so-called gods themselves who were so beyond obsessed with you were too stupid to realize it was you. He finds it ironic. 

“Why would the creator want to be around any of you after the way you treated them?”

“But we didn’t know!” 

You just respond with an eye roll. You're not going back with them after the way they treated you. Not too long ago you encountered Dvalin again from temporarily staying by a place near the Stormbearer mountains. Dvalin even told you he'd try to tell Venti you're the creator but Venti must have ignored his friend. 

Dainsleif looks at the two archons like they’re stupid. “And… you didn’t bother to check? Even if you didn’t know, they could have still been a human you turned against, which is very unbecoming of an archon. 

You play right into the role, more time passing for you to accept it. "Precisely why I'm not going back. Why would I want to go with someone who'd turn against another just for them having a face of someone they know? I'm ashamed of you guys and your people honestly. If I wasn't the creator, you'd still treat me as nothing more than sand." 

"But-" Venti starts as you cut him off. Shame filling the two more by each of your words.

"I don't want to hear it. You made your Graves, now lie in them. I may not have powers now or ever, but that doesn't mean I should have been treated that way even as human. Leave." 

They did, but are planning ways to make it up to you. They have to have their creator with them, not some low-life like Dainsleif. If it comes down to it and they have to kill him to eventually bring you with them, then that's just what they'll have to do.

[softpawpup]

— caregiver ! best jeanist & kiddo ! sick ! reader ; warm soup

words: 786 notes: this was another idea on that poll i did and ofc i had to post it too.... i just think it's real sweet. sorry if its ooc or anything i just write what feels good yknow.

you had woken up with your dad already at work. and of course you had woken up sick. you whined and groaned and rolled around in bed for a while. the drainage was annoying and you felt so icky and feverish. but you dragged yourself up to eat a bowl of cereal before falling back asleep on the couch in the living room. 

but then dad came home. his voice woke you up as he slowly perched on the edge of the couch, “ hello , button , what are you doing out here? “ he reaches out and touches your face, he frowns at realizing you’re burning up. “ oh , baby , you got sick , huh ? “ you blink your eyes open and let out a whine as you nod. tsunagu rose up and set his work bag down by the couch. “ let’s get you to bed. “ he scooped you up and carried you back to your room. he laid you down and handed you your favorite teddy.

“ you stay here, dad is going to make you some soup. “ he stroked your cheek and slowly left. you watched him leave and pouted, missing him terribly already. you tried to be good and wait in your bed but he was taking so long. eventually you got too restless and wiggled out of bed, this time dragging your blanket and teddy with you. 

you padded your little feet to the kitchen and let your eyes fall on your dad’s back. he was cooking at the stove and you knew better than to accidentally surprise him while he was doing something with the stove. “ dad? “ you called from your spot at the hallway. his head raised and he lowered the heat on the stove. “ button , what are you doing out of bed? “ he frowns and walks over to you, scooping you back up. “ i wanna be with you… “ you whine, rubbing your sniffly little nose. tsunagu smiles softly and sighs, “ alright, i guess that can’t be helped. you can sit in here while i cook. “ he set you down at the table and gave you a glass of orange juice. “ it’ll help you feel better. “ he promised before returning to the stove.

you watched him cook quietly, kicking your legs over the edge of the chair with your blanket pooled around you. you sipped your orange juice as time passed and eventually dad was done. he turned off the stove and got out a little yellow bowl with smiley faces on it. he filled it half-way with a hot, handmade chicken noodle soup. you could smell it and your tummy gurgled with excitement. cereal only did so much for hunger. you licked your lips as he brought the soup to you and grabbed a spoon.

“ you want dad to help feed you today? “ tsunagu offered, pulling a chair closer to you as he sat. you thought about it and nodded, wanting to be spoiled a bit. tsunagu smiled and nodded, “ alright, let’s get you fed then. “ and so he patiently and gently hand fed you, blowing off the spoonfuls of soup so as to not burn you. you swallowed the soup and your tummy filled nicely, a smile spreading on your face. your dad smiled and went until the bowl was empty. “ good job. you ate it all. “ he got up and washed the bowl before returning to you.

and then he got something horrible out of the cabinets. medicine. you made a face immediately and whined but dad clicked his tongue. “ i know you don’t like it, bluebell, but you need it to feel better. “ he poured a spoonful of it and brought it to your mouth. “ do it quick and it’ll be over before you know it. “ you furrowed your brows, not believing him but took the spoon into your mouth and swallowed as fast as you could. a shudder ran through your body and you flapped your arms in distaste. your dad put the medicine away and picked you up. “ good job. “ he kissed your forehead gently. “ let’s get you back to bed now, okay? “

“ will you stay with me? “ you blinked your eyes up at him and tsunagu found himself unable to say no. “ of course i will. “ and so he brought you to your room and re-tucked you in as he had done earlier. he wiggled into the bed and fit in right beside you. he let you lean into him and he slowly rubbed your back. “ now get some rest. “ you stayed awake for a bit though, listening to his heartbeat. but eventually your eyes drifted shut and the medicine and full belly’s effects lulled you into a nice, heavy sleep.