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dollwrites · 1 month ago

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ᴊᴏʏʀɪᴅᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀʏᴏ ᴀsᴜᴋᴀ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon, gun kink ( gun fucking ), depictions of car wrecks / injuries, mild humiliation / degradation, use of the word rape, what a strange encounter lol. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act five [ object stimulation ]

your heart was pounding hard against your ribs. right foot pressing down on the pedal. the engine revs louder, practically roaring in your ears, and the photo-white sports car tore down the dark asphalt. the road was slick, and the windshield wipers worked furiously to clear your few of the rain that seemed to pour endlessly from a hole ripped in the night sky.

this wouldn’t have been your first pick for a low profile— a foreign car that most people could only dream of being able to afford, but it was the only one that was unlocked. the only car with the keys in the visor, that fell quite literally into your lap when you flipped it down. but, you still needed to disappear, and the owner had most definitely reported it stolen already, so you avoided main highways. you kept the headlights off, and sped through the darkness on the least traveled backroad that you could find that would wind its way, lacking streetlights and attention, towards the airport. you knew very well that you’d have to abandon the car about six kilometers from there, and hoof it the rest of the way, but you still had a ways to go. twenty kilometers, maybe.

your mind had been so scrabbled with thoughts of escaping, starting a new life, and putting this one behind you that you hadn’t even turned on the radio. perhaps you should; it probably would’ve eased the stiff tension, but you’re grateful you hadn’t. that way, you were able to hear a low growling. one that was approaching from the rear, gradually growing louder. your eyes flit from the hardly visible road to the rear view, stomach twisting into knots as you saw twin lights behind you. still a ways back, but it seemed as if they’d appeared out of thin air.

sucking your lower lip into your mouth, your brows knit together and you press harder on the gas. RPMs slightly bumping up, the roar of your own engine exploded through the night air and you could see the headlights behind you dimming. you felt a wave of relief wash over you— but such a thing was short lived.

because the vehicle tailing you also snarled and sped up. the headlights grew brighter and brighter the closer it got, as if being reeled closer and closer to your bumper, and you felt your stomach flip over when the headlights flickered brightly, twice.

this was a chase.

the cops!

“Shit, shit, shit!” you hissed to yourself, pressing your foot down further. you could feel the floorboard on the other side. even as you gripped the steering wheel tightly, you could feel the wobble. with the roads so slippery, and the winds from the storm so fierce, Mother Nature threatened you with a crash. you’d never driven a car that would go this fast, either, so experience was not on your side.

still, you were determined to get away, and there’s no way in hell that a squad car could keep up with this speed… was there?

your heart sank to your stomach as your pursuer stays right on your bumper, headlights nearly kissing it, with ease. how was this possible?! with your anxiety turned up to one hundred, and no more pedal to stomp on with it pressed all the way to the floor, you stared back at the pitch blackness before you, trying to keep the car between the ditches at the very least as the wipers pushed a waterfall of diamonds that obstructed your view around the glass. the car moaned and swerved, and your fingers clamped harder around the wheel to attempt to keep her steady, but nothing could compare you for what came next.

speeding by the yellow sign so quickly that you almost didn’t see the hairpin curve warning until the silver guardrails sparkled from the blinding rays in your mirrors. no, no, no! you wanted to scream it out, but you hadn’t the time to form the words before fires were squealing, the unfamiliar car protesting with a stubborn swerve. you took a stupid chance and looked into the rear view once more, in hopes that the hunter on your ass wasn’t able to maneuver. only to find that, instead, the driver had sped into the middle, straddling the divider, with their headlights parallel to your back tires. it took you a moment to realize what the car intended by getting in this position, but by the time you had, you had no time to brace for the impact.

CRUNCH!

in the blink of an eye, you were spinning. your hands slipped from the steering wheel and instead attempted to shield your face. the speed at which the smallest bump sent you spiraling was sickening. your stomach leapt up to the base of your throat. after what seemed like an eternity twirling, the car collided into the silver barrier. the impact slammed your head into the window beside you, you felt it fracture from the force against your temple, and the sudden pain causes a blackout. your vision went dark, and rubies dribbled from the wound by your hairline.

sizzling.

no, hissing. you force your lids to give way, though they feel as if they each weigh a ton. clouds of thick, gray smoke bellows out from beneath a crumpled white hood, marred by thick, black skids. your eyelids droop, and you slump against the window. it wasn’t shattered, but breaks spiderwebbed out from the point of impact where you lay. your breath, albeit labored, is the faintest sound you hear. a car door catches your attention. one that slams. and then slow, steady footsteps. boot soles crunching over broken glass. getting closer. everything within you is screaming to move. to fling the door open and throw yourself out onto the asphalt. to run. crawl if you have to. but you’re too disoriented. nauseous from the spinning. dizzy from hitting your head. you can’t muster enough control over your own body to move it.

and you don’t have to.

the latch on the door clicks, and suddenly, you’re poured from the driver’s seat out of the car. your seatbelt must’ve snapped— or, perhaps, you’d never buckled it when you got in. you couldn’t remember right now. your head swam, and your writhed on the ground, flipping over on to your back. rain splatters cold on your face, and drenches your clothes, sticking your top to your curves, running down your bare legs as you try to pull them up into a bend. “Ggg…gh…” it’s nowhere near a coherent word, but a gurgle as your eyelids flutter. raindrops blurred your vision whenever you attempted to open them completely, but you could see a smear of white looming over you— just the right size to be a person. but not one wearing any sort of uniform. on the contrary, he must’ve been wearing a trench coat. white, because the rain had begun to sink through it, as well. giving it a translucent appearance around his shoulders and biceps. “Ah— are you a cop…?” it was the only thing you could ask, perplexed by his appearance. golden hair, piercing blue eyes, and his lips were in a thin line, unbothered and distant.

“No.” the answer is so abrupt that it catches you off guard, even in your dazed state, and you peer up at him, perplexed, as he slides a slender hand into his coat, fishing around for something.

“Then, why did you—“ your breath catches in your throat when a sleek, black barrel is staring back at you, inches from your face, water careening off it. “Sh— shit…!” you’d never expected a gun, and most certainly not a machine gun. how the hell did he get his hands on one of those?! “Don’t!” your hands fall back against the cold concrete in complete surrender, your body as flush to the ground as you can make it, your hazy gaze trained fully on the gun that hovers just in front of your lips. if you were to try and sit up, you would kiss it, so you stayed still, except for the involuntary tremble that washed over your cold, dripping body.

“You’re a pathetic, quivering excuse for a car thief,” he replies, pushing the barrel close enough to graze across your lips. you whimper and turn your head, closing your eyes tightly, expecting any moment for a bullet to come blazing out from the gun’s depths and tear a hole through your skull. he must be the owner of the car, you deduct, even in your fear-crazed mind. “Aren’t you sorry?” he taunts, the barrel tracing the line of your jaw. “Look at what you did to my car.”

the rain is pounding down on your face so hard that his soft, almost monotone voice is all but inaudible. you squint against the dribbling into your eyes blurring your vision, staring at the crumpled up soda can that was once a dazzling sports car. oh, shit. your stomach churns, your legs shaking as you push your feet on the asphalt. your flip flops slide against your soles, the throng threatening to slip as you try to squirm out from underneath the gun. “Yes!” you chime with a broken mewl, nodding vigorously. “Y—yes, I’m so… so, so sorry! Please, please, I’ll pay for the damages—“

he laughs out loud. throwing a soaking, blond mop back and bellowing out to the crying clouds. “You will, will you?! With what cash??” he was still chuckling when his sapphire gaze falls back upon you, wild and sparkling even in the dark of night. it nearly ceases your heart in your chest at just how… wicked he looked. taking a step closer, his boots crush small pebbles and shards of glass as they plant themselves on either side of your feet. the barrel lingers on your face for only a moment longer before it descends, dragging along the neckline of your dress, tugging it down to expose one of your breasts. his eyes follow the gun’s lead, drinking in the sight of your mound glistening with rain and a pert, stubborn bud. “Are you hiding hundreds of thousands under that dress of yours?” the barrel circles your nipple, causing your back to arch, and you chew on your lower lip, giving a sheepish shake of your head. “Then how will you pay me back?” he asks, his eyes drifting lower than your chest, and settling on the way the rain drenches the bunched up fabric of your skirt on your crotch, outlining your hips and your clenched thighs, creating a pleasant Y.

you weren’t stupid. you knew what he was implying, and you thought you knew what he wanted from you. hell, you would’ve given it to him, too, if that meant he wouldn’t kill you over this damn car. “I— I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want…” he hums, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he considers the offer. careening the barrel of the machine gun lower, it peeks underneath your skirt at the knee, and with a little push, he’s nudged your shuddering thighs apart and pushes the end against your panties— a flimsy resistance. you grunt at the discomfort ( and fear that the slickness of the metal might cause his finger to slip ), but stare up at him with a pleading, helpless gaze. “Do you know what I want from you, little mouse?”

you shook your head, trying to play coy and innocent, which elicits a scoff from the armed man.

“I want to hear you beg for your life.”

your heart drops into your stomach, “W—What?”

“You heard me,” he replies, as if it were the most normal request in the world. “Beg to live. If you sound pathetic enough, I might even grant your wish. After all, I have a soft spot for strays.”

“Please! I want to live,” you start, your heart thumping harder against your rib cage. you still couldn’t move from your back on the ground, and your head was spinning with all the possibilities of how this encounter could end. your voice broke as you pled for him to show you mercy. “Please, please don’t kill me, I will do whatever you want… !” in a deft motion, the barrel slips beneath your wet panties, and runs slow, taunting laps between your netherlips as you speak. you have to swallow the saliva pooling in the floor of your mouth. you wanted to be sick at this unfamiliar sensation of cold metal heating up as he coats it in your slick. “L—let me prove it, please. I will prove it to you. A—anything!!” his eyes flicker up to yours, and a dubious grin etches his lips upwards as he gives the gun a little push, and the barrel slips inside of you. your back arches off the ground, and you clench your teeth with a light hiss, knitting your brows together. “Nn…ghh?”

but he only seems more overjoyed with your discomfort, pumping the first, few inches of the barrel into you with slow, deep thrusts. “Take it,” he ushers, golden tendrils glowing like a dripping halo stuck to his forehead. “If you want to live, you’ll take it just like a cock.”

one of your hands presses against the asphalt, whilst the other starts to reach between your legs, stopping against your belly. you couldn’t pry it out of you without upsetting your assailant, so you clench your fist against the fabric of your skirt, feeling how heavily saturated with water it was. “Fff— fuck…” there was supposed to be a you after the expletive, but you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the insult. though you were scared of angering him, you were also trying to push past how unnatural the hard metal felt sliding in between your spasming, spongy walls, unyielding as it barreled into you at such a steady pace. he didn’t speed up or slow down, keeping the same rhythm, even as your arousal started to build ( much to your dismay ) and you began to squirm and rock into it. he seemed almost… robotic. as if he could fuck you with this gun all night.

“Your cunt’s getting slippery.” he notes, matter of factly. it made you cringe, the way he announced the state of you as simply as if a check engine sign had flashed up on his dashboard during a long drive, and he pushes into you with a little more force, sliding another inch inside in the process. the solid edge punches at a sensitive nerve bundle, and your breath catches in your throat, killing a helpless yowl. “You’re starting to like it. Sick. You must be completely deranged.” but he was grinning like the cheshire cat as he teased you, the strap that would’ve been hooked on his shoulder slapping against his waist as he drills the weapon into your tender sex. “What’s next? Do you want to cum with your pussy stretching around my gun?”

you want to say no. jesus, you want to scream it. however, the look on his face tells you all you need to know. he wants you to. maybe just for the sick thrill of it all, not even for his own gratification. so, begrudgingly, you nod, and he howls with laughter again, like a happy hyena. “Beg for it, then.”

your jaw works, your couplet almost unable to form the words. the fucking he was giving you was numbing your mind to a point, the repetitive, deep prodding of metal into your guts made them twist into knots. “P—please,” you hiss against clenched teeth, your eyes helpless and doelike. “Please can I cum on your…. On your gun?” as much as you didn’t want to, you humped into his movements, driving yourself closer to the edge as you rasp out the plea.

he doesn’t answer, not verbally, but the way he jams the weapon into you with more precision, aiming specifically for that spot that made your muscles clench, you know he’s telling you ‘go on. do it.’

and surprisingly, it doesn’t take long.

a couple of ragged breaths and whimpers later, and you were overcome by an orgasm that seemed more aggressive than any you’d had before. like it wasn’t the making of your own body, but this stranger had created it simply to torment you even more than violating you with a gun could. you trembled and groaned, rolled against the wet ground, smearing dirt and grime across your skin and your clothes before you came to.

meanwhile, he seemed overjoyed. with a pleased sigh, he withdraws the barrel from your sex, and waves it around, admiring the slick coating that makes it gleam. “Deranged and messy,” he murmurs, before aiming it at your face again, but this time, he drags the barrel that smells like your lust across your cheek, tilting your head up to stare at him from your helpless bed of concrete and broken glass. “You like to ruin my toys, don’t you, little mouse?” his voice is dangerously low, and he hisses with a devil’s edge. “Give it a kiss and say ‘thank you, Ryo, for making me a messy, little rapedoll.’”

your lips are moving before your brain catches up, planting a kiss against the barrel. you have to stop yourself from allowing your tongue to loll out and swipe a taste of your pussy from the metal. rain flooding your open mouth as you gurgle out, verbatim, “T—thank you, Ryo. For making me… a messy… little… rapedoll.”

“Mhm.” he hums, slipping the gun back under his drenched trench coat before taking a step back to admire his handiwork. “That snatch of yours will make whoever picks you up off the side of the road a happy man.” that was the last thing Ryo said to you, before he turned on his heels, his boots stomping back to his vehicle. you’d already closed your bleary eyes when he revs the engine. tires bark close enough to you for you to feel the heat and smell the burnt rubber before the vehicle speeds like a bullet into the dark, leaving you alone and broken, replaying what happened to you over and over.

#Ryo Asuka #Ryo asuka x reader #ryo x reader #ryo x you #ryo smut #devilman crybaby x you #devilman crybaby x reader #devilman crybaby smut #devilman #devilman crybaby

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samaraxmorgan · 4 months ago

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Mister Roadside Assistance

How unlucky do you have to be to hit a curb so hard you pop your tire? Fortunately for you, your boyfriend Toji is here to help, even if it’s pouring rain.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Contains: pure fluff, pet names (doll, sweetheart, princess)

Word count: 1.7k

My Masterlist Here!!

The sky is nearly jet black, flashes of lightning illuminating the dark roads around you for a mere second at most as you drive to your boyfriend Toji’s apartment. You let out a defeated sigh, you knew it was gonna storm tonight, but you got out of work so much later than you expected, you really thought you’d be lucky enough to sneak past the dark clouds looming closer and closer; but of course you couldn’t be so fortunate.

The AC in your car blows cold against your skin, still slightly damp from your hurried run through the parking lot. You reach your hand down to fumble with the AC knob, glancing away from the road for only a moment as you continue to cruise down the lonely narrow street, but when your eyes trace their way back up to the street, it’s a little less lonely. Not in a good way, however, a deer running out into the middle of the road forces a shocked gasp from your throat and you instinctively yank your steering wheel to the side, your car leaping over the curb as you faintly hear a loud scrape over the sound of the pouring rain. Your dash lights up like a Christmas tree as you come to a screeching halt, the deer giving you a look that seems almost passive aggressive given the circumstances.

You sit frozen in place, you and that god forsaken deer staring each other dead in the eyes before it turns on its heels- or, well, hooves, and gallops into the trees on the opposing side of the empty street. Left alone now with nothing but your racing heart, the steady thump thump thump of your windshield wipers in their desperate attempt to keep your view clear, and your car pinging beeps into your ears, your gaze drops back down to your colorful blinking dashboard.

Tire pressure low, 28 PSI.

25.

21.

Ah, shit.

You tightly grip your fingers around your steering wheel, dropping your head and lightly banging your forehead into the wheel. Of all times for this to happen, it just has to be during a severe thunderstorm warning. It’s not like you don’t have a spare in the trunk, you do… but, it’s not like you know how to change the tire; and in the pitch black of night under storming skies isn’t exactly the most ideal spot to learn. You look up at your dashboard, hopeful that maybe it will just magically stop beeping in warning that your tire is rapidly flattening below you, but no.

14.

11.

You let out a groan as your head flops back down, thumping against your steering wheel once again. Your fingers loosen their grip around the wheel and slide their way down to the voice assistant button, the robotic voice cheerfully chiming “what would you like to do?” as an exasperated sigh leaves your lips.

“Call Toji.”

The line rings once, twice, and then you’re greeted with his raspy voice playing through your car speakers.

“Everything alright?”

You lift your head and look out at the empty road in front of you. If your boyfriend could see your face right now you just know he would give you the hardest time for your pitiful expression.

“Baby…”

“Yes, doll?”

You lowered your head once again, quietly mumbling under your breath, “I hit a curb.”

He snorts out a short laugh, cocky grin evident in the sound of his voice, “Good job sweetheart.”

“I popped my tire…”

The loud sound of his laughter surrounds you in your seat, you knew this was gonna happen.

“You fuckin’ serious?”

“Ugh,” You rub your eyes in the palms of your hands, “Can you come help me?”

His laughing is quieter now but still clearly audible, “Nah, I’m sure you’ve got it.”

“Baby.”

He snickers, “Send me your location doll, I’ll be there soon.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Glancing up into your rear view mirror, you see his dull yellow headlights coming around the corner and pulling up behind you. You unbuckle your seatbelt and open up your door, which nearly slams back into your face from the strong wind blowing in the storm, as Toji grabs a hold of the handle and keeps the door cracked open, leaning down and peeking his head into your car.

“Pop the trunk for me princess.”

You nod your head and push the button to unlock your trunk, turning your body to step out of your car before he places a large hand on your shoulder and gently pushes you back into the driver’s seat. You look up at him with a pout.

“Let me help!”

“Nuh uh, don’t need you fuckin’ it up.” He says with a grin, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your temple before stepping back from the car and slamming the door shut.

You huff and cross your arms over your chest, watching him circle around to the back of the car and dig through your trunk, pulling the hefty spare tire out with one hand as if it weighed nothing. He makes his way to the passenger side of your car, crouching down out of your view; you scoot over your center console and kneel onto the passenger seat, rolling down the window to watch him. He looks up at you with droplets of water cascading down his black hair, white t-shirt sticking flush to his broad shoulders, and a shit eating grin plastered across his scarred lips.

“You really did a number on it huh? Showed that curb who’s boss.”

You swear your eyes must have rolled to the back of your skull, “You’re unbearable.”

His grin only grows wider as he bites the tip of his tongue and lowers his gaze to focus on your wheel, your rim having a large scratch running across its entire length and your tire absolutely butchered with a gaping gash on its side. Droplets of warm rain sprinkle onto your cheeks as you watch him jack your car up, his arms flexing as he raises it higher and higher. He picks a long wrench off the ground, securing it to the silver bolts inside the rim and twisting each one until they fall onto the wet grass down below. He hooks his palm underneath a gap in the metal rim, rising to his feet and carrying the wheel to the back of the vehicle, your car shaking as he haphazardly tosses it into the trunk.

He walks back to the passenger side, lightning cracking in the dark skies and illuminating his tall figure as he drops down onto one muddy knee and slides your spare tire into place, screwing the bolts in most of the way with his fingers before securing them tightly in place with the wrench. He peers up at you through his dark lashes, grinning at the way you’re borderline giving him heart eyes as you gawk at his biceps flexing as he lowers your car from the jack.

“Enjoying the view?”

Your eyes flicker from his arms to the smirk on his lips, leaning back fully into the car and starting to roll the window back up as his smile grows wider and turns into a laugh. He stands up to his feet, opening your car door and leaning down to fit his tall figure inside, propping his knee onto your seat and hovering over you. You squeal and attempt to push him away, he’s completely drenched, his white t-shirt nearly transparent and soaking your clothes as he leans closer and closer to you.

“Oh? Don’t be like that doll, c’mere.” He’s grinning at you deviously, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling your body flush against his as you squirm under his hold.

“You’re soaked! Get out of my car!” You squeal, unable to hide the smile forming on your face. He couldn’t be more unbothered if he tried, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, causing the water from his hair to drip down your back.

“That’s no way to thank me,” He pouts playfully, leaning away from you and giving you the false sense of hope that he would save you, and your clothes, from getting drenched, “Want me to dry off princess?”

The tone in his voice is mischievous, and once you see the glint in his eyes you know you’re in trouble. He shakes his head violently back and forth, water droplets flying off of his hair and making a complete mess of you and your car. A playful scream escapes your throat as you climb backwards over your center console, shielding your face with your hands while your back bumps against the driver’s side door. He’s on his hands and knees crawling further into your car, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck while the other opens your door; you would’ve fallen backwards out of the car if it weren’t for his hand holding you steady, the wind blowing pouring rain all over your back while his smile only grows wider.

He wraps his other arm around your waist and holds you halfway out of the car, catching your screams and curses into his mouth as he presses his lips against yours, you could feel his smile against your lips and taste the rain dripping into your mouth as he kisses you. Your arms flail around before wrapping around his neck to keep yourself from falling, even though you know he would never drop you in a million years, and you let your eyes fall shut, tilting your head slightly to better slot his lips against your own. For a moment it was like the world stopped turning, lightning cracking in the sky, loud drops of rain thumping against the concrete roads, the warm glow of headlights coming from the first car you’ve seen drive down this road, its wheels rushing through deep puddles and splashing water into the open air.

And then the world abruptly starts to turn again as a massive splash of water drenches you and Toji both as the car speeds past. You scream out in surprise and Toji can’t even attempt to contain his laughter, pulling you back into your sopping wet car and pulling the door shut behind you. You swear that grin hasn’t left his face a single time tonight, he must just delight in your misery. His green eyes are on yours as you lean your back against the door, panting for air and your eyebrows furrowed in frustration, he can’t help but cup your cheek in his hand.

“Y’look so cute when you’re about to kill me.”

A/N: Baby’s first completed fic!! Look at me go!! I wrote this all in one sitting bc I was feelin’ MAD INSPIRED after having to change my tire yesterday lmfao, I hope u enjoyed!!

#FIRST FIC BABY!!!!#YIPPEE!!!#if it sucks im SORRY ASAMQKKAJ #god I can’t believe my first ever completed fic is TOJI??? unexpected for me honestly #my writing #nav toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x you #jjk x reader

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year ago

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There's a whole lot of towns out there that you'll never visit. Most of them are chock full of people you'll never meet. Tulsa, for example. Never been there, might never go there. And that makes me a little sad.

Sure, I only have enough time on this earth to visit so many towns. And when I'm there, I don't have enough time to interrogate every single one of the locals to see if, say, any of them have a set of Mopar F-body windshield wiper linkages sitting in the back of their garage. They'll just go to waste, damned to irrelevance by my lack of time. That's what the MBAs call a "market inefficiency."

The internet has helped, sure, but you can only demand what other people have supplied. Any quick browse on a model-specific forum is full of lonely folks crying out to the heavens for a specific piece of trim, or an entire automatic transmission, that they will never receive. And it's a lot of work to put that stuff up for sale. Who knows what's actually inside that weird pile of oil-stained gewgaws that Pawpaw left behind before he joined that alien cult and drank all that Flavor-Aid? His surviving next-of-kin sure don't know the difference between a 4.11 and a 3.90 rear end, nor are they willing to teach themselves that information in order to list it on eBay for twenty bucks.

Don't worry, though, I have a solution. That solution is that the Boston Dynamics warehouse is not secured very well. Their robots are powered by a two-stroke lawnmower engine: it's like they wanted me to show up with a turbine-generator-powered plasma cutter and chop right through the rebar holding the walls of their robot storage lockup together. After that, it was a quick couple of dozen trips to the local electronics store to get the right USB-to-serial cable, and I soon had my harem of semi-autonomous Parts-Seeking Drones® roving the backwoods of America.

So, if you see a lanky, creaking doglike shape lurking outside your yard tonight, smelling oddly of pre-mix and human arterial blood, let it in your garage. All it wants to do is scan your spare parts so I can find that goddamn last piece of dash trim for the cruise control lever on my Volare. Don't worry: I won't have the robots kill you if you decide not to sell it to me after all. It would be hypocritical of me to judge another hoarder. We'll have coffee when I come see your town for the first time! We can trade junk and be best friends and call each other on the phone afterward and talk about nitrous oxide. No promises on what the robots will do if they search your entire property and don't find any Plymouth Volare stuff, though. I forgot to program that part before I let them out of radio range.

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hexpea · 6 months ago

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Ch. 1 - Black Dahlia Black Dahlia flowers often represent betrayal or sadness. AN: I wrote this after getting the character guide. I learned that the Zenin estate is in Kyoto after all, along with the Kamo estate. Oops. We're going with it anyway!

The glittering lights of the world's largest city unfolded in front of you as the sleek, black sedan that carried you sped down the Shuto Expressway. It had been a five and a half hour drive that you spent entirely silent in the backseat as your youngest uncle, Daisuke, drove you toward the outskirts of Tokyo toward the imposing Zenin estate. The skyscrapers sparkled as you drove on the highway, the early setting sun casting a glow on their windows as tiny February snowflakes fell to the city streets below.

You shifted in your seat, the knot of your obi restraining you tighter than your own seat belt. You hooked your thumb under the tight fabric to take a deep breath and ease some of your pain. You hated having to dress so formal -- ironic considering the conservative family you came from who prided themselves on lineage and tradition. You were the Kamo clan's jewel, the youngest daughter of the clan head. But as a woman, youngest aside, you had 'no right' to become the heir apparent; that role instead passed down to your 'bastard' half-brother, Noritoshi, though you'd never personally call him that. He'd inherited the prized cursed technique of your family, and you convinced yourself that your father's reasoning was right. So you ignored it and adored your youngest brother, the mama's boy. Besides, you had a much more important task at hand.

Daisuke looked in the rear-view mirror at you, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he tried to analyze your facial expression while you busied yourself with studying the sparkling skyline. As your youngest uncle, who often carted you around as your attendant, you were close to him -- and those 'complications' from your 'task,' he knew all about. In fact, you saw Daisuke as more of a father, or brotherly, figure than your own father.

After such a long silence, the Zenin estate only a few minutes away as you drove away from the city, Daisuke finally broke it. "You alright, Y/N? It's been a long journey from Kyoto," his voice held deep concern. The windshield wipers of the car made a loud squeak as they dragged themselves across the too-dry glass, snow and salt still dirtying it as Daisuke sighed irritably and discharged the wiper fluid using the shifter near the steering wheel.

You turned your head slightly, meeting Daisuke's gaze in the mirror with cool composure. Swallow it down. That's what you knew best. "I'm fine, Uncle. Just contemplating the path ahead."

Daisuke nodded, acknowledging the weight of the situation. "Today, you'll be betrothed to another Zenin. You've a crucial role in...ensuring the continued influence of our clan," his tone hinted at your true task at hand, more than a measly arranged marriage. "And you know your father is...eager...to see his direction carried out promptly this time."

Your expression remained unchanged as you turned your attention back to the view outside, your eyes betrayed only a glimmer of detached determination. "I understand, Uncle. I'll play my part, and I won't fuck up...again," your voice was quiet as you tried to end the conversation quickly with your harsh, irritated tone.

"You know your role in this alliance is crucial, Y/N. The clan has invested much into this partnership with the Zenin and your abilities are our greatest asset," Daisuke focused back on the road, his voice laced with double meaning that you could easily decipher. His breathing briefly hitched as he hit a patch of black ice as the expressway you were once on turned into winding country roads.

A subtle smirk played on your lips, you felt your blood pressure starting to rise with irritation. "I'm well aware, Uncle. The Kamo clan's rise to power is at stake and I have no intention on letting us down."

Daisuke sighed, his gaze remaining fixed on the road ahead. "You've done well in the past, especially with...your late husband. But this time, try not to take seven years to finish the job. Our arrangement relies on their vulnerability and we've postponed the progression long enough."

Your eyes glinted with a cold determination as you saw the Zenin estate steadily coming into view, one of the last remaining shinden-zukuri style estates from the Heian era -- besides your own back in Kyoto. "Rest assured, Daisuke. I know what needs to be done. I've done it quite a few times before," you were throwing his first name around as if it were a threat. As close as you were, you were pestered he kept bringing up your circumstances as if you didn't know what you were doing.

Daisuke pulled the car onto the brick driveway that curved toward the front gates to the Zenin estate. You waited in the back as he got out and opened the door for you, offering his hand to assist your movements. You did your best to gracefully exit the vehicle despite the tight skirt of your kimono, the slowly setting afternoon sun providing a warm backdrop to the otherwise solemn occasion for the reason of your arrival. You shivered as you felt the cold air at your wrists and ankles, feeling lucky for wearing a thick kimono for once.

He led you toward the imposing front gates, the two of you being greeted by a few attendants who then led you toward the main building where your father-in-law Zenin Naobito, the twenty-fifth head to the Zenin clan, awaited you.

"Make them believe you're mourning, Y/N," Daisuke whispered in your ear, slightly leaning down as two female attendants quietly led the way toward the center building. "But remember your duties."

With a nod, accompanied by your irritated expression, you entered the estate to find Naobito lounging informally on a zabuton. I don't need to pretend, you thought to yourself, I am in mourning.

Naobito was sucking down sake from an o-choko as if it were nothing before pouring himself another from a gourd. He leaned against the armrest to his zabuton, one leg curled inward with the other propped up, his elbow resting on his knee.

The attendants who had led you there silently closed the shoji doors behind you as you stepped toward Naobito, keeping a step behind your uncle. Considering you'd been dealing with the Zenin clan since you were a child, you knew all about their cold and conniving ways, particularly that of the misogynistic nature. You knew to keep your mouth shut and your head low, at least in front of a man like Naobito.

The main room of the estate was large, built of the sturdiest wood. The ceiling was held up with large wooden pillars throughout the room made of the same wood that planked the floors. You stood with your uncle on the large, raised platform in just your socks against the tatami mats. Naobito was sitting at the front of the room alone with attendants stationed at each of the doors in the room.

Daisuke took the first move, bowing respectfully to adhere to the formalities of clan politics. "Zenin-sama, I bring you Kamo Y/N. She comes to offer her condolences on the passing of your son and her late husband, Zenin Naohiro."

Naobito looked up from his lounging position, taking a prolonged sip from his next cup of sake, staring at the two of you with an air of indifference. His sharp eyes assessed you, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition that made your heart flutter nervously. However, it was quickly replaced by the cold mask that almost always defined him.

"Daisuke," Naobito greeted casually, setting his sake cup aside. "It's been some time. I trust the journey here was uneventful?"

"Indeed, it was. We're grateful for your hospitality over the next few days," he responded professionally, continuing to adhere to formalities despite Naobito's lack of interest.

Naobito nodded dismissively, his attention turning to you. His cold stare was almost enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Y/N, a pleasure to see you as well," he remarked with a slight smirk, not bothering to rise from his seated position.

You kept your eyes low, dipping into a respectful bow of your own. You did your best to maintain a somber expression as Daisuke introduced you more formally. "Zenin-sama, allow me to present once again, Kamo Y/N, youngest daughter of the twenty-fourth head to the Kamo clan."

Naobito studied you for a moment, his gaze piercing through the layers of your kimono and the stoicism you presented. "Pity about the circumstances that bring you here...again," he remarked, a cruel glint in his eyes.

You inclined your head in acknowledgement, maintaining the facade of grief as it came naturally. "Thank you, Zenin-sama. I am honored to be here despite the sorrow that accompanies my arrival."

Naobito waved his hand dismissively, clearly uninterested in niceties. "Let's get on with it then. Daisuke, our arrangement?"

Daisuke cleared his throat, shifting into his formal tone once more. "As agreed, Y/N will be betrothed to one of your sons, or another appropriate clan member should a son not be available, securing the alliance between our clans. The Kamo clan seeks the strength and protection of the Zenin, and in return, we offer our influence and support with regard to matters involving those higher in rank."

Naobito's indifferent demeanor remained unchanged as he listened to your uncle's formalities. After a moment, he sighed audibly, a hint of annoyance tainting his expression.

"Unfortunately, all of my other sons are already married...save for one," Naobito stated coldly. "Naoya is my youngest, and he remains unmarried. I suppose he'll have to suffice for this...pathetic alliance. Though, I expect his resistance. The boy's not one known for his behavior."

Daisuke nodded respectfully, acknowledging the limitations of the situation. "We appreciate the flexibility, Zenin-sama. I'm sure Naoya will be a worthy match for Y/N."

Naobito leaned back after rolling his eyes, taking another sip of sake as he considered the arrangement. He turned to one of the attendants quietly standing against the wall. "Go and fetch Naoya. Inform him of the situation and bring him here promptly."

The attendant nodded, a flicker of fear evident in her eyes, but they quickly composed themselves and exited the room in haste. Naoya, known for his unpredictable and ruthless nature, was a figure to be feared even within the Zenin clan.

The silence was deafening as you, Daisuke, and Naobito stared at one another while waiting for the attendant to return. After a short few moments, the attendant returned with a hesitant bow, her eyes showcasing an obvious mix of fear and trepidation. She spoke in a hushed tone, addressing Naobito with utmost respect. "I apologize, Zenin-sama, but Naoya refuses to come. He is still resting, as he returned late last night from a...festivity."

Naobito's face tightened with irritation, his fingers drumming impatiently on the tatami mat next to him. "Still sleeping? At this late hour? Unacceptable." He turned to the attendant with a stern expression. "Gather more attendants. If he refuses, drag him in if you have to. I won't have my son shirking his responsibilities for his...indulgences."

You gave Daisuke a certain look that blatantly showed you were trying to hold back laughter despite yourself. You found Naobito's lack of control over his children amusing. Naohiro had been the same, disobedient to his father, though he was much more gentle with you. Naoya, you knew, was going to be a problem. Daisuke lightly nudged you to behave as he held his polite expression.

The attendant, visibly more nervous now, nodded and quickly exited the room. Naobito sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his annoyance evident. "That boy has no sense of responsibility. Always chasing after fleeting pleasures."

The fusuma doors slid open again, revealing a group of female attendants. They entered with conflicted expressions of determination as they wrangled a disheveled Naoya who was fighting against their grasp, still half-asleep, as he was forcibly dragged into the room in a white t-shirt, boxers, and an unfastened yukata that hung off of one of his shoulders. His bleached hair accentuated with black tips darted in a few different directions as he ripped his arms out of the attendants' grasp with a furious look on his otherwise sleepy expression.

Naoya adjusted his disheveled clothes as he stood up a bit straighter, not caring to fix his tousled hair. Naobito's eyes narrowed with displeasure as he observed his son's state. "Naoya, this is an important matter. Show some respect."

Naoya glared at his father as he stood with his feet slightly apart for balance, mind still dizzy from a night of his usual revelry. His head snapped in your direction to which his frustrated expression fell into a deep smirk. "Well, well, if it isn't the Kamo princess," Naoya sneered, his arrogant grin widening as he appraised you with a dismissive glance. "Coming to play the grieving widow, are we?"

You kept a straight face as you stared at Naoya, straightening up your shoulders to look at him head-on. You carried no fear for the immature boy standing in front of you. Daisuke, too, gave Naoya a disapproving look but refrained from saying anything, knowing the delicate nature of the situation.

Naobito, giving yet another audible sigh in an attempt to bring attention back to the task at hand, cut to the chase. "Naoya, Y/N is to be your betrothed so that our alliance with the Kamo clan can remain secure."

Naoya's eyes widened in outrage as he processed the information. "You've got to be kidding me, old man! I'm not interested in some arranged marriage nonsense," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. He clenched his fists at his sides as he glared at his father. It was nearly impossible to take him seriously considering his disheveled appearance.

Naobito's patience wore thin as he shot Naoya a stern look. "Watch your tongue, boy. This alliance, as pathetic as it seems, is crucial to the Zenin clan, and you will do as your duty demands."

Naoya rolled his eyes dramatically, an exaggerated display of defiance. "Duty? I have no duty to anyone but myself. I won't be shackled to some woman and dragged off to Kyoto like a common servant. Like my pathetic brother."

You remained composed, watching the exchange with an impassive expression. Daisuke, though disapproving of Naoya's behavior and not desiring to subject his niece to such torture, kept a respectful distance, knowing better than to intervene in the Zenin family affairs.

Naobito's tone turned even colder as he asserted his authority. "You will do as I say, Naoya. This is not up for negotiation. The alliance with the Kamo clan must be maintained and you will fulfill your responsibilities as the next clan head. Or do I need to revoke that title from you and give it to one of your older brothers?"

Naoya's bratty attitude persisted and he scoffed at his father's words. "Fine, I'll play your little game, but I'm not leaving Tokyo. If she's supposed to be my bride, the bitch can come live in my domain. I won't be caught dead in that dull city of Kyoto, not when I need to manage the Hei!"

Naobito's patience had run out, and he slammed his hand on the armrest of the zabuton, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Enough, Naoya! This is not a negotiation! You will follow through with this arrangement, and she will live in Kyoto with her family. The Hei may be significant, but it does not give you the right to defy our clan's decisions."

Naoya scowled, clearly displeased with the outcome. "This is ridiculous. If I have to marry her, she's staying in Tokyo. I won't be confined to that backward city!"

You took a deep breath, feeling fed up with the back and forth between petty father and son. "If I may," you began, breaking the silence with a steady voice despite the tension in the room. Naoya and Naobito's furious gazes darted toward you, equal in baffled disgust at your sudden dare to speak. "I understand his concerns about leaving Tokyo considering his responsibilities with the Hei. If it pleases the Zenin family, I am willing to remain in Tokyo as long as I am able to be provided a part of the garden to tend to my plants and a suitable place to store my...reptiles."

Daisuke's eyes widened in shock at your unexpected proposal. He knew all too well the risks involved in meddling with the affairs of the Zenin clan, especially with someone as unpredictable as Naoya.

Quietly, Daisuke leaned in closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, are you sure about this? Your safety at the Zenin estate cannot be guaranteed."

You met Daisuke's concerned gaze with a silent nod, your eyes reflecting quiet determination. You were well aware of the dangers, but you were confident in your ability to navigate the treacherous waters of the Zenin clan. Turning your attention back to Naoya and Naobito, you awaited their response, your posture unwavering despite the intensity of the situation.

Naoya's arrogant grin faltered for a moment as he considered your proposal, his brow furrowing in thought. "Hmph, you're quite bold for a Kamo," he remarked, a hint of begrudging respect underlying his words. "Very well, if you're willing to tend to your plants and snakes like some common gardener, then so be it."

Naobito, though visibly displeased with the compromise, reluctantly acquiesced. "Fine, if that's what it takes to ensure the success of this alliance then so be it. But make no mistake, Kamo Y/N, any misstep on your part under this roof will not be tolerated."

You gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Inside, you felt a surge of relief and victory knowing you had secured a concession from the formidable Zenin patriarch and his bratty son.

Naobito's stern gaze shifted from you to Naoya, a clear signal that the matter was settled. "Naoya, get dressed. You will show Y/N around the estate while I finalize the details of your betrothal with Daisuke."

Naoya scowled at his father, clearly displeased with the order. "Why am I the one tasked with babysitting the princess around this dull place?"

Naobito looked toward the ceiling and clenched his jaw as if he were praying to some kind of deity. After a moment, he turned back to look at his son. "Consider it a punishment for your insolence. Now, obey your duty and show her the estate. Perhaps you'll learn something about responsibility."

Naoya huffed in annoyance but didn't dare further protest in front of his father. He shot a disdainful glance at you. "Fine, let's get this over with. Follow me, Kamo," he sneered, emphasizing your family name with a mocking tone.

You maintained your composure, but smirked as you walked behind him. "Lead the way, Zenin-sama. I'm sure it won't be as dull as you claim."

As Naoya grumbled and stormed out of the room, you continued following him, Daisuke's watchful gaze lingered on you with concern. The attendants opened the shoji doors and you and Naoya stepped out and began walking toward his room, his bare feet hardly making a sound against the spaced wooden planks of the outdoor pathway. As you followed behind, you saw his angry breath following him in the cold air of late afternoon.

Naoya walked ahead of you with an air of arrogance, fists still clenched as his black yukata flowed in the breeze of his quick pace. "I hope you're not expecting some kind of grand tour, Kamo. This place isn't as exciting as you think."

You chuckled softly, not letting his arrogance faze you. "Then I suppose I'll need to liven things up around here with my presence."

He shot you a skeptical glance as you stopped in front of his room's door, his eyes narrowed at you as he slid the door open. "Don't mistake this for willingness. I'm only doing this because the old man ordered it. I couldn't care less about a whore like you or this alliance nonsense."

As Naoya entered his room, you remained outside, leaning casually against the sliding door. You slid your hands into your sleeves for warmth as you waited. The opened door allowed you to catch glimpses of the interior where Naoya, in his disheveled state, attempted to compose himself.

The room was dimly lit, and the faint scent of strong alcohol lingered in the air. You watched with mild amusement as Naoya stumbled to dress, his bare feet unsteady on the wooden floors, a clear sign that he was still grappling with the aftermath of the previous night's festivities. His yukata hung loosely from one shoulder, revealing a toned and defined physique beneath the fabric. Despite the obvious signs of his hangover, there was an undeniable attractiveness to Naoya's disarray. His bleached, black-tipped hair, tousled from sleep and night's revelry, framed his face in a way that accentuated the sharpness of his muscular chest and arms.

Naoya fumbled with the buttons of his collared shirt, a slight grimace on his face as he tilted his chin upward, wincing from the headache that undoubtedly plagued him. With his shirt buttoned, he grabbed his dark blue hakamashita from his bed where he tossed it. As you observed his attempts to dress himself, you couldn't help but be intrigued by the contradictions within Naoya -- the audacious, carefree exterior that masked the complexities beneath. It was evident that, despite his arrogant demeanor, he was not immune to the consequences of his indulgences. He still had some growing room left.

Naoya lastly put on his white hakama pants, tying them at his waist with a bit of frustration. He shot a glance in your direction, a mix of annoyance and curiosity in his eyes. "Are you just going to stand there, Kamo, or do you plan on entering? You're letting all the warm air out," he motioned irritably to the space heater on the floor.

Your lips curled into a sly smile as you pushed off the door, entering his room with a deliberate confidence and closing the shoji door behind you. "I thought I'd give you a moment to compose yourself, Zenin. Wouldn't want to interrupt your morning routine," you chuckled lowly and crossed your arms. "Excuse me...I meant afternoon routine."

He scoffed, the arrogant smirk returning to his face. "Morning routine? More like recovering from a night well spent. But enough about that. What do you truly want? I'm not here to entertain you."

Your eyes scanned the simple yet elegant decor of his room. "Entertainment is subjective, Zenin. I'm simply here to fulfill my duties as your betrothed, as per our esteemed fathers' arrangement."

Naoya rolled his eyes, the remnants of irritation evident in his expression. "Right, the illustrious betrothal. A joyous occasion, I'm sure. Now, let's get this stupid tour over with."

Dates: February 14, 2018 - Naohiro, Naoya's brother and Y/N's ex-husband, is killed. February 18, 2018 - Y/N is sent to the Zenin estate to be married off to an eligible Zenin bachelor. AN: Reminder, this is your father and half-brother. c: (From Vol. 22)

#naoya zenin #zenin naoya #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya x reader #naoya zenin x y/n #zenin naoya x y/n #naoya zenin x you #zenin naoya x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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jeridandridge · 1 year ago

Note

I see you're open to ideas for the college years for melissa x reader! College road trip for spring break or something gets derailed when they get lost bc one of them can't read the map/mapquest right, they run out if gas- like a comedy of errors type of thing with little romantic bits? A happy ending if possible 😁😁 hope you like it. Either way I can't wait to read more!

I had to add a little bit of a joe mention in there to drive the point home. I loved this idea!

Detours

“Red, if you’re not ready in ten minutes I’m leaving without you!” You huff from your bed in the corner.

“Yeah right.” Melissa laughs coming out of the small bathroom. “You wouldn’t leave me stranded here alone. You love me too much.”

You roll your eyes grabbing the keys to your tiny skyhawk that was packed to the brim with supplies for the road trip you and Melissa had planned shortly after she dumped Joe, saying it was for good.

“Cmon, let’s head out.” You encourage slinging your arm over her shoulders as you two move through the empty dorm.

Outside you pull right up to the dorm tossing your backpack in the back as you get in the drivers seat.

“four hours from now we’ll be on the beach with drinks in hand.” The red head smiles.

You grin as you pull out of the parking lot heading for the exit of the college town. As soon as you light a cigarette and relax behind the wheel your eyes go wide when you see the trunk opening in the rear view mirror.

“Shit!” Melissa yells as you slam on the breaks, one of the coolers falling out onto the road. Luckily, no one was behind you.

You groan and hop out to get everything back in.

“Good thing we weren’t on the highway yet, huh?” The redhead calls out from the front.

You playfully roll your eyes and slam the trunk making sure it’s shut tight.

“Okay,” you huff starting down the road again, “no more mishaps.”

An hour into the drive Melissa starts to grow restless. “Cmon, let’s stop at a gas station and grab some snacks.” She pouts.

“We have snacks in the back, Mel.” You hook your thumb over your shoulder towards your backpack.

“You didn’t get any of those gummy fish I like though.”

You glance at the woman shaking your head. “No. Those cute puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me.”

The red head gets even closer resting her head on your shoulder. “Please, y/n?”

You groan and get in the next lane headed for the exit. As you glide down the street to the gas station you can’t help but smile at the proud smirk on your friends face.

A little while later you two come out with junk food acquired, Melissa happy as ever. Setting your huge slushie on the roof of the car, you stand there with your hands on your hips as you top off the gas tank.

“Why do you look so hot pumping gas?” Melissa grins from the window. The spring breeze had pushed her hair back, and the sunglasses she wore made her look even better if that were possible.

Fighting back a grin you shake your head. You loved the woman, but she’d just broken up with her boyfriend. You weren’t that sleazy.

“Eat your gummies, Schemmenti.”

Closing the gas tank and getting back in the car you start it up head move forward, only to have a blue Icy substance splash all over your windshield.

“My slushie.” You thud your forehead against the steering wheel.

“Oh, hon.” Melissa laughs reaching over to rub your back. “I’ll get you a big cup of water ice when we get to the beach.”

You sit up with a sigh and flick on the windshield wipers to push the blue sugary slush away.

“You promise?”

The red head looks over holding her pinky up, and you don’t hesitate to lock yours with hers.

A hour later with your hand in a bag of Doritos you realize the area you’re in isn’t familiar. At all.

“Mel, are you sure you read the map correctly?” You question looking at the small town you’re driving through.

“I know how to read a map, y/n.” She rolls her eyes lifting the crinkled map from the floor. Melissa moves the map around flipping it over with wide eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry hon.”

You spot a small gas station and pull in turning the car off. “Where are we?” You asks looking at the map.

“We’re right- here.” She points to a city that’s sure to add another two hours to your drive.

“Shit.” You sigh rummaging around for a pen.

Melissa’s head hits the back of the seat and she crosses her arms. As you sit marking the map against the steering wheel you can see Melissa out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey, what’s with the face, what’s going on here?” You ask nodding to the sad looking woman.

“I’m always messin stuff up, just like Joe said.” She laughs sadly.

“What are you talking about, Red?” You furrow your brows. “Don’t even think about that asshole. We’re gonna get back on the road and be by the water before 5 o’clock.” You tell her.

“We’d be almost there if I were holding the map right.” She crosses her arms.

You shake your head and finish marking the map with where you needed to go. When youre done you toss the pen to the back and hold your arm up for her.

Melissa scoots over again resting her head on your shoulder.

“Mel, if I’m gonna end up in the middle of nowhere on the way to the shore I’m happy it’s with you.” You tell her rubbing her back.

You hated when she second guessed herself like this all because of joe. It was unfair. She was normally so tough and acted like nothing bothered her and it bummed you out to see her like this.

Melissa is content against your side, she lifts her head from your shoulder kissing your cheek.

“Thanks, y/n.”

You swallow hard at the feeling her lips left on your cheek and smile at her.

“Any time, red. Now grab the map so we can get to the beach.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #wlw #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lgbtq+ fiction #college years

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hymnserendipity · 13 days ago

Text

No-sorcerer Nanami horror day break

light horror

Kento took the last curve without slowing down, the car completely tilted to one side.

<<Damn, it was supposed to rain today.>> you say in a low voice, sitting next to him, as if the memory of your initial plans made you angry.

You had both had to jump through hoops to take that day off from work because you wanted to go to the lake with all your heart. You had cooked lunch that morning, early, while Kento filled his bag with towels and sunscreen, slippers, hats. And instead, as soon as you turned onto the highway it started pouring, contrary to what the forecast had said.

<<Yeah, who knows when we'll be able to take another weekday.>> he remarked, focused on the road in front of him.

You huffed, you thought so too, of course, but hearing it was frustrating. You continued in silence that path where the only car present was his dear old blue Toyota; you wanted to go back, maybe take a walk to the mall, but the more you continued to advance along the road obscured by trees and gray clouds, the more the sign of an exit or a change of direction seemed like a mirage.

<<Damn, I can't see anything despite the windshield wipers.>> he murmured with a thread of voice that produced a ghost of hot breath that, in condensation, hovered around his lips.

You searched with your gaze for the presence of any sign that however did not appear, it seemed like an infinite and all the same road, interspersed only by a few turned off street lamps. At that point he turned his gaze towards the window on which the rain was sliding and continuing to pour down. You continued to observe the sides of the road when you suddenly came to, jumping on the spot.

<<Did you see?>> you exclaimed staring at the road from the rear window.

<<There was... a white figure near the streetlight.>> you say with a hand on your chest that kept rising and falling like crazy.

<<I didn't see anything, you must have imagined it.>> he said with a sigh, then continued: <<I see a sign... Great! A gas station, we can ask for directions.>> he exclaimed. The sign looked old, but after driving down that road for a good half hour, that was definitely the best option. Seeing the parking lines was almost impossible, so the car was parked haphazardly in front of the station entrance.

You got out of the car and faced those few steps that separated you from the entrance with enormous difficulty, that small slippery and wet stretch made you stagger and risk slipping, I reached the end of it. The shop had a copper-covered gable on which rust settled.

<<And to think that we should have practically reached the lake... I'm calling the restaurant to cancel tonight's aperitif.>> Kento sighed. In the meantime the wind had risen, soaking his legs in waves. You listened distractedly to your husband who was trying to make himself heard on the other end of the line despite the incessant pouring of the rain. When the man ended the call he was stunned, his eyes wide open as if he were staring at a ghost that had appeared in the rain.

You watched him, something about that look of his annoyed you. When he finally spoke his voice was barely audible.

<<Y/n... According to the owner, it hasn't rained a single drop all morning. Where the hell have we gone?>> The darkness of the clouds was falling from the sky and, with the help of the rain, like a dark blanket, it was suffocating every color. <<I'm sure we're on the right road. What do we do now?>> you ask in an alarmed voice. You both turn to look at the door of the gas station, covered with old, faded, damp billboards. <<Let's wait for it to stop raining, and then go in and see if anyone can give us some directions.>> he suggested, not at all convinced by his own words. With that symphony of rain and showers behind him, Kento placed his large, calloused hand on the door, pushed, and entered that building that was improbably well lit inside. It took a while for your eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, your faces were distorted in a collective grimace of surprise. Inside, there was a long, immense, elegantly lit marble corridor, lined with shops of all kinds and through which many people were walking. The atmosphere, full of sounds and smells, chaotic but at the same time comforting, resembled one of those Sunday days spent inside an urban shopping center. "And yet it seemed abandoned..." you murmur in a whisper. Something about that place seemed to be off, the people, the shops, it was all real but at the same time fake, as if you had accidentally ended up on the set of a movie. "We should ask for information, I think." he said, scanning the faces of the people around you.

Hanging from the ceilings were banners with a symbol you’d seen before, but couldn’t remember where. Incessant chatter filled the hallway, but no matter where they looked, people didn’t seem to say a word, they just smiled. “I’m going to the bathroom for a second.” You point your skinny finger at the icon for the restrooms next to you and walk away. You walk through the door, not looking back, and disappear from your husband’s sight. He continued to mull over the symbol, leaning against a nearby wall. A red tail on a black background, but where had he seen it before? He wondered. Then, with a start, he realized. Before turning onto the drizzly street, he had glimpsed it, like a sign hidden among the trees. Without wasting any more time, he approached a kind-looking lady. “Excuse me, can you tell me where we are?” The woman stopped smiling and looked at him like one might look at a ghost. He opened his mouth, but immediately closed it again.

Everything around him stopped, as if a gear had broken. Everyone present was staring at him, smiling macabrely. His heart began to beat like crazy, rising in his throat. It was at that moment that you came out of the bathroom. With a sigh of relief, ready to take you and run away from that terrifying place, he turned to you. He put his hands on your shoulders, but he realized that you no longer seemed like the same person.

You grabbed his face in your hands and squeezed it tightly. <<Let's stay here.>> you said, with a smile equal to that of everyone present. Kento felt his body stiffen, he was no longer in control of his movements. And as he looked into your eyes he felt himself detach from his mind, and then nothing.

#jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento x y/n #jjk kento #kento x reader

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moosemonstrous · 10 months ago

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Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU

yeah you read that right - check out the tag I'm just following the brilliance of @cicada-candy and @wazzappp

At first, Robbie thinks he must be dead. He drove straight into a wall at forty miles per hour, by all means he should be dead.

This is like the fourth time you’re having this freak out, the snake mutters, coiling around the steering wheel. It flicks the wipers on with his tail, the blades struggling to scrape off the black substance covering the windshield. A ghostly body slowly evaporates from the hood.

Robbie blinks. He’s on the other side of the building, as if he drove right through it. When he looks over his shoulder, through the miraculously intact rear window, all he can see is a solid brick wall of the warehouse.

See? The snake hisses. He sounds incredibly smug. Told ya it would work. I think you got them—

Just to hammer down how rarely the snake is right about anything, he’s interrupted by a loud bang on the roof of the car. It’s promptly followed by manic scratching, like the ghost is trying to claw its way in.

Well, shit, the snake observes. You’re gonna have to get out to deal with this one.

“Like hell I’m getting out.” Robbie turns the key in the ignition to start the car again, the engine rumbling to life with a shower of pink sparks on the dashboard, because this is his life now, apparently. When he tries to step on the gas, he ends up jamming the ridiculous heel of his boots into the floor. “These fucking boots—” He tries again, only for his foot to slip right off the pedal. “Come on!”

The scratching intensifies. It’s gonna take the paint off! The snake shouts, like that isn’t a mind-boggling event all of it’s own. Get the hell out and kick its ass!

“You think I can stand in these?!” Robbie nearly broke his leg running back to the car when the ghosts attacked him outside the auto shop. Just because injuries don’t seem to stick when he’s in this stupid fucking outfit doesn’t mean he wants to try that again, much less kick anything. Inches above his head, the ghost shrieks in rage.

How hard can it be?! It’s just shoes! Women do it all the time!

“Not without– training, or something!”

The next warehouse is only a few meters away, and Robbie is an excellent driver, but he’s not exactly flying under the best conditions right now. If he can’t control the car, he’s going to end up–

A set of hooked talons breaks through the passenger window, the half-melted ghostly face lowering itself down after it. His options rapidly diminishing, Robbie grabs one of the bedazzled white hammers he ends up holding after every transformation and throws it at the creature, hitting it right in the nose. It wails in pain, but doesn’t stop it’s torturous crawl inside.

Get the other hammer! Don’t just throw it, keep hitting it!

Robbie does. He’s dimly aware he’s screaming the entire time, the black blood spraying out of the ghost and onto his white gloves, but eventually the ghost goes limp. It gives one last forlorn moan before dissolving into nothing. Robbie waits a couple of seconds, struggling to catch his breath, before he risks sticking his head through the broken window to see if this was the last one.

No more ghosts. The night is quiet again, the colours returning back to their regular L.A. light pollution levels. He falls back into the driver seat heavily, chin against his chest, which puts him in the inconvenient position of staring right down at the pink fucking gem embedded in his sternum.

On top of everything else, why does it have to be this violently pink?

That could’ve gone worse, the snake slithers across the dashboard to audit the damage to the window. Don’t turn back yet, the glass will repair itself in a few minutes.

“Why can’t it do that when I’m normal?” he mutters. He doesn’t want to be wearing a dress for a moment longer than it’s strictly necessary.

It’s just faster this way, quit whining.

Just to add insult to injury, the gunk doesn’t disappear with all the other magical shit. At least it looks more like motor oil than anything else – it’s enough of a pain to clean it up every time without someone calling the cops because Robbie keeps leaving dark alleyways covered in actual blood. With a sigh, he reaches under the seat to retrieve the paper towels and the disinfectant. It’s easier if he wipes it off right away.

Someone clears their throat outside. The snake shoots his head up, instantly wary, while Robbie ducks down – the last thing he wants is for anyone to see him like this, ghost blood notwithstanding.

“Hi,” he hears, before the crunch of gravel closing in on the car. “That wasn’t half bad.”

Robbie turns back around just in time for a blonde man in a leather jacket to lean down to peer through his window. He looks remarkably unfazed by having witnessed someone hammer thin air into submission, although he does look a little surprised when he takes in Robbie’s whole… thing. He gestures for him to roll down the window, and Robbie does, mostly out of sheer confusion.

There’s a motorcycle parked a few meters behind him. How long has he been here?

“Uh,” the man takes a second to collect himself. “Damn, sorry, I thought you were an actual girl.”

Robbie’s going to grow an entire beard as soon as he gets out of here.

He’s a witness, the snake hisses. You need to get rid of him.

“Hey, now,” the man protests. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You can hear him?” Robbie asks dumbly, pointing at the snake. “Did you–see? All that?”

The man inspects his nails while he talks. They’re painted flame-bright orange. It doesn’t really fit his general biker aesthetic, and Robbie feels something like hope kindle low in his chest.

“I think you and I should have a conversation,” the man says. Then, as if a hilarious joke just occurred to him, grins and adds: “Magical girl to magical girl.”

#ghost rider magical girl au #YEP ADD ANOTHER ONE TO THE WIP LIST #robbie reyes #johnny blaze #eli morrow

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stinalotte · 1 year ago

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So, hear me out.

I know the Ancients were this advanced race, built the Stargates, built Atlantis, mastered ascension, yadda yadda. (They were also huge dicks—except for you, Janus, you're a national treasure, you do whatever the hell you want—, but that's beside the point.)

What I want to know

The question that's keeping me awake at night

The one thing I can't wrap my head around

Why

the eff

didn't they install windshield wipers on the puddle jumpers?

Look at this thing, it's got a huge window, at an angle, you fly it in any kind of atmosphere and it will get rain/water/condensation on it. Why?

#get on it Radek #stargate atlantis #polls

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aokoaoi · 2 years ago

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▎chapter two : welcome home.

▎content warning : gore/blood, rotting, violence, typical resident evil behavior.

▎character pairing : leon kennedy x fem!reader.

"HOW LONG ARE YOU gonna be gone for?" Your closest college friend, a girl who happens to crash at your apartment for a few weeks rent free, frowned at you like some hurt puppy. She was lazily sprawled on your bed, watching as you packed up necessary things for your visit in raccoon city. All you really needed to pack was clothes.

You sighed loudly, exhausted after dumping all the clothes that existed inside your closet- outside of the said closet. Placing your hands on your hips, you deadpanned at her as she continued to sulk. "I don't know how long I'll be gone but I planned on staying for a week."

"Noo! A week?!"

"Jane, I haven't seen my family for three years."

Practically feeling her cheeriness visibly deflate at that. Jane knew you had a point, and she understood why you'd be gone for a while, but surely being on the verge of tears watching your best friend pack to go back to her home place is also reasonably understandable, right?

Breathing out through your nose, you sat next to her now slumped, seated form. You placed a piece of clothing on your lap, wrinkling it in the process. Jane found the feeling of your cold hands on her exposed shoulder, a gesture you do when you're comforting.

"Come on, don't get all mushy on me. I'm not gone for that long, and I'll be back before you know it." While you particularly didn't really understand why she's so upset that you're leaving for a week, you didn't want to see her cry.

Was it her abandonment issues? Hm, maybe.

Jane pouts childishly again, now heating up put of embarrassment. "Now my mascaras all ruined." She huffed, her fingertips slightly stained in black inkish liquid from her tears when she brought her hand up to wipe her cheek.

"You barely even cried." You commented.

"I tend to like wearing these types of mascaras to add dramatic effect." Jane shrugged mischievously, a grin overtaking her soft features.

"Oh so everyday you just suddenly start shedding tears out of nowhere?" She snickered at your comment, shaking her head in amusement. You matched her grin, standing back up to start packing again.

"Hey, do you think I can come visit your family with you?" She suddenly brought up, taking you off guard. You paused for a moment, letting the words sink in and processing what to say.

"..maybe next year."

The drive is mostly silent. Mostly. All you could hear was the static from the radio, the muffling noise outside that your tires were creating, and the raindrops softly padding against the glass windows of your car. It was pitch black darkness outside, and all you could see was the road ahead of you as your headlights was on. Occasionally turning on the windshield wipers here and there.

Your elbow was propped up on the door beside you, resting there as your hand stabilized your head. In a minute now you could possibly get a headache from how your knuckles was digging into the side of your head. It was uncomfortable, but it surprisingly kept you awake.

Your brother called before you left your apartment, and by that I mean before you stepped out of the door. He called to say he'd arrive tomorrow, and he wanted you to tell your parents instead so he won't have to. You were upset at that, but there was nothing you could do about that.

After a few minutes, you caught up to a gas truck. It was slowed down, and you could only assume that the driver is half asleep and half awake right now. Not wanting to waste time trailing behind it, you steered the wheel on overtook the truck. You looked back at the rear view mirror, watching as the trucks light began to slowly disappear.

You huffed out of your nose, pursing your lips together as you heard your stomach growl. And it growled again.

Glancing at the baked delicacy on the passenger seat next to you, you opened the box with one hand, fishing out a glazed donut that Jane baked for you before you left. You could smell the taste of cinnamon rolls, but she said that's her gift to your mom and dad. But more to your mom.

After a mile and a suffocating silence, you encountered lights up ahead, and as you squinted slightly you could see that it was a gas station. A gas station occupied with two cars, a motorcycle, and seemingly drunken people surrounding two individuals.

Two individuals holding guns.

Something bubbled in your stomach, and you didn't like it one bit. You shouldn't have ate that donut. You swerved into the gas station, the sound if tires screeching and lights flashing at the unknown man and woman catching both their attentions. You bumped into three or four of the weirdly rotting bodies, your eyes widening at the sight of small droplets of blood getting on your windshield.

There was yelling from your side, and you could see two of the unknown people shooting at whatever the fuck you just crashed on until they finally decided to get in your car. There was loud thudding on the passengers seat, and you turned to look at it.

The look of face rotting, was on the other side of that glass window. It's skin around its mouth ripping off that you could see the gums of its bloody mouth and teeth. It's neck was torn apart, and it's workers uniform was now trashed and dirty. As soon as you could hear the door loudly close shut, you sped out of that gas station immediately.

Both their heavy breathing filled the car, making you look back to where they're seated, concerned. "You guys alright? What the hell was that- that thing." The question came out worridly and mortified at the same time.

"I don't know. Hopefully they'll have some answers at the police station." The man responds to you, catching the girl's attention.

"Wait, you're a cop?"

He curtly nods, "Yeah. Leon Kennedy, you are?"

"Claire- Claire Redfield."

Upon her response, was silence. You glanced back, seeing how they were now looking at you, waiting for your response. "Oh- you were also talking to me?" You deadpanned at yourself, watching as an amused smile take on their face.

You introduced yourself, firstname and lastname.

Claire hummed at your response, "That lastname, hm, I could vividly remember my brother mentioning that name." She muttered, but was it didn't go unheard by the other two in the car.

"Your brother?" You beat the dirty blond male to it, making him purse his lips but still look at the girl beside him for an answer. "Yep. I'm looking for him. he's a cop, too." She answers you, making you nod.

The man who you now know as Leon looked at you, "Do you live around here?" He questioned, and you nodded again.

"Mhm. I'm visiting to see my family."

"Well, it's a good thing we found eachother." Leon perked up again, "I don't know what to expect anymore." You were confused at his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to question it. Besides, you were too tired to be paying attention to anything other than the road right now.

You passed by a billboard; welcome to raccoon city, home of umbrella.

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