#( i kept it small and vague so you decide what follows )
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@worldhell asked:
[ hips ] your muse pulling mine in close by the hips. - farlan c:
❥ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .
A game for two. One where their life could be on the line as well — life as they knew it, as they had found comfort in being. In every challenge, they were together, working as a team, relying on one another, fighting as equals, filling up where the other couldn’t. Farlan, with his devious perception and cool head, and Levi with his instincts and raw strength. Farlan may not realize the countless times Levi had surrendered completely to his will, make the decisions for him, take the lead — ask him to jump and he would, for he trusted him with his entire being. This moment, was one of these times.
Surprised, his breath caught for a moment, his effort to mask his reaction a failed one. Only Farlan would get to see him without his defenses, share such closeness of both body and mind. If it was anyone else, he would have pushed them away at best, if he could have held himself back from taking out his blade, an instinctual response. There were no restraints between them, granted each other the freedom to do as they desired.
Intimacy was foreign to him, a part not dared to trigger, another weakness of his, a part he had to leave behind in order to keep moving forward. His touch was gentle, comforting, unexpectedly. Was it part of him had been craving to be held, for his hold, to soothe his tense nerves?
He remained silent. Waiting. Staring. Demanding for action. What kind of action, though? Hell if he knew. In light gray eyes he got lost, focused, frozen before him, like surrendering prey. ❝ What’s on that devious mind of yours? ❞ His lips kept a breath away from touching. Was Levi playing the same kind of game, pretending to be the one at loss? Or was there a different kind of gravity between them, keeping them close, bound to one another? None could escape gravity, not even Levi.
#( i kept it small and vague so you decide what follows )#( might be nothing might be— )#( loving this. arigato gozaimasu )#worldhell#—◆ ic | that means i'm abnormal. . . probably because i've seen far too many abnormal things#—◆ farlan church (worldhell) | ‘that is your friend?’ philtatos— he responded. most beloved.#—◆ tba. levi & farlan.#—◆ tba. ft. farlan church.#—◆ answered ask | night falls. or has fallen. why is it that night falls instead of rising like the dawn?
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Boy from Stevenage - Lewis Hamilton
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: none, tooth rooting fluff, Lewis being vulnerable
wordcount: +1K
a/n: Felt like fluff was due, so totally self-indulgent nonsense I wrote after hearing bits of his speach for his GQ Awards.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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You leaned against the doorway as Lewis moved restlessly across the room, his brow furrowed with concentration. A braid kept falling into his face, and he kept tucking it behind his ear. He muttered to the reflection in the mirror, his expression serious as he practiced his speech for the GQ Awards ceremony, rehearsing it with the same intensity he would study race tracks.
A smile tugged at your lips. It was endearing, this nervous energy that usually only manifested before a race, and that so few got to see, filling the master bathroom of his NYC apartment. Tonight, however, the only race was against his stubborn desire to perfectly deliver his message.
When he finally sighed in frustration, you decided to fully enter the room. He caught your reflection in the mirror, and his face softened, the tension momentarily lessened.
"Hey," you tilted your head, offering a small smile.
He straightened, taking a deep breath. "Hi. How long have you been there?"
You shrugged, reaching for the fingers that gripped the marble. "A minute or two. Just… watching the master at work."
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "More like a nervous wreck."
He gestured vaguely to the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. "Do you think it's alright? I don't want to sound… pompous."
You reached out for him, turning his face to look him in the eye, your fingers smoothing the worry lines on his brow with your thumb. "Lewis," you started, your voice soft. "Nobody's going to think you're pompous. They're going to be captivated."
His eyes, the warm brown that stole your breath every time, met yours with a glint of nervousness. "You really think so?"
A soft smile and chuckle spread through your features. It was a challenge, putting your admiration for him into words. You weren’t one for grand gestures or over-the-top declarations. It was in the quiet moments, the shared understanding, the unspoken language that existed only between the two of you that you showed him how much he meant to you.
"They'll all be in love with you," you finally said, a loving spark in your eyes. "Just like I am."
He chuckled, a hint of relief washing over him. "Smooth, (Y/N)."
You took his hand, gently pulling him away from the mirror. "Come on," you said, urging him towards the plush armchair in the bedroom nestled by the window. "Let's forget about speeches for a while."
He followed willingly, sinking into the chair with a sigh as he dragged you down with him. You settled on his lap, pulling your legs comfortably on top of his on the stool. The city lights became a shimmering backdrop to your comfortable silence.
"I’m really proud of you," your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers danced on his chest and he looked out the window.
His hand automatically sought yours. You squeezed gently. "More than you can imagine," you admitted.
"Sometimes it all feels a bit overwhelming," he confessed, his voice raw. "The platform, the attention, the expectation to be a voice for everything."
"You don't have to be a voice for everything, though," you countered, your voice firm as he locked his gaze on your intertwined fingers. "But what you do choose to speak up about… that's what makes me so proud."
He looked at you, his eyes searching your face. "Even the stuff that makes some people uncomfortable?"
You let out a proud smile and a knowing giggle. "Especially those. You use your platform to speak when others won’t."
He squeezed your hand, gratitude evident in his tone and his eyes. "Maybe you should be writing the speeches after all."
You laughed, a soft sound that filled the room. "You just need to be reminded that you're Lewis Hamilton, not a nervous rookie on his first podium."
You leaned your head against his shoulder, his arms embracing you as he turned his head, placing a soft kiss on your temple. "Thank you, love. But we really need to get going," he whispered, just before he picked you up and put you back down on the armchair, heading back to the bathroom.
As Lewis got in the shower, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the crumpled speech in his hand. You knew he wasn't one to brag about his achievements, but a part of you yearned to understand the weight of the words he was struggling with.
Carefully, you reached out and picked up the paper. It was filled with Lewis's handwriting, edits scrawled across some lines. You scanned the opening, your heart swelling. It wasn't about self-praise or glorifying his victories. It was a heartfelt dedication to the countless individuals who had supported him on his journey, from his early days karting in Stevenage until now.
He spoke of his family, the unwavering pillar behind him, their sacrifices paving the way for his dreams. He mentioned his mentors and heroes, those who had nurtured his talent and those who had inspired him to push to be his best. He even acknowledged his rivals, the competitors that had honed his skills and fueled his relentless pursuit of excellence.
But then, there was a section that was heavily underlined, a paragraph riddled with question marks and crossed-out phrases. It was about the kids that he hoped to have inspired.
He wrote about the grounding effect they had on his own path. He spoke of how he, too, was an impressionable young boy, wishing for something greater.
You knew sometimes Lewis struggled to express his emotions openly, yet here he was, trying to articulate the depth of what it meant to him to be put on the same pedestal as his heroes.
It was the written proof of how much this award, how much this entire platform, meant to him – a chance to not just be Lewis Hamilton, the champion, but Lewis, the boy who had aimed for the stars and received the moon as a gift.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. You pictured the faces in the opulent ballroom, expecting a typical self-congratulatory speech from the motorsport legend. The surprise on their faces when Lewis poured his heart out, his voice thick with a vulnerability they wouldn't have anticipated, would be priceless.
He may be a titan on the racetrack, but here, in the quiet intimacy of the apartment, he was simply Lewis, the man who might fumble with expressing his emotions but whose actions spoke volumes.
As you two rode in the backseat towards the gala, the city lights morphing into a mesmerizing dance of colors, you snuggled closer to Lewis, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm.
"Hey," you whispered, tracing a finger across the back of his hand.
He jolted out of his thoughts, his eyes looking for yours. "Hmm?"
"You know," you began, searching for the right words, "you don't need to win over that entire room tonight. You just need to make that brave boy from Stevenage proud."
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#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton#lh#lh44#lewis#lewis x reader#lewis imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton x you
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The whole Once-ler family is working full tilt!
Here's my full piece for the VK Onceler Zine! I was very lucky to get to be a part of it...🥹 I used concept art as my inspiration this time: [link] Keep reading below for my process vid and all my director's commentary!
Thank you for being curious! Here's a video of my WIPs:
Deadlines were TIGHT for this zine! We were given only 2 months (compared to the 6 months I had on the previous onceler zine), so to make sure I could finish on time, I decided to do only base colours and lighting, with almost no shading anywhere. Still, trying to balance all the colours took the longest for me, as you can see in the vid. xP
Also idk if anyone noticed, but for the face I chose to use an already existing onceler doodle: [link] Why? Well, why not! I really liked that doodle and I didn't want it to go to waste. 😆
Things that I enjoyed sneaking in:
-the golden spiral! Vaguely, at least! At the very least I hope your eyes can follow the order of thneed production, from the fallen tree at the window to the tuft harvesting to the thread spinning, to knitting the thneed and then drawing up plans for bigger and better things, and then ending with him pulling on his iconic glove to show he's going to take control now
-15 cents, a nail, and a great great great grandfather snail, as well as a tin pail since that's where you're supposed to deposit your payment
-combining things from the 2012 movie and concept art, the 1972 movie, and the 1971 book (e.g. that funny wrench he uses to fix pipes)
-Miss O'Schmunce-ler! You can see from the vid that I added the bracelet pretty late, because it was a late decision to have a Miss O'Schumunce-ler somewhere. I chose her to be the one picking up the pencil in the end, since she's pretty good with a pencil in the movie hehe. You guys can pretend the arms holding the phone is Miss Funce-ler.
-a thneed, a seed, and a (grickle grass) weed on the floor. The thneed is just the first of many that will soon create a giant pile. The seed lies forgotten in the corner. The weed is foreshadowing the future.
-hinting that Lorax and Once-ler were actually good friends, like they were in the Lorax musical stageplay. 🥺 I kept this part of the script in my mind for this piece:
This was aftermath Once-ler talking to the Lorax, reminiscing on their good times...and also being stupid and inconsiderate because the Lorax was in fact there all along as his friend, trying to warn him of what was going to happen. 😔
So in my zine piece we're witnessing a peaceful time before all the real biggering really starts. I like to think that in this scene, the Lorax had been sitting on the Once-ler's lap, holding his gloves for him and having a nice chat together with maybe some harmless bickering, but then the Once-ler gets a phone call so he cuts their convo short and rolls his chair over to the window to answer it. Putting business over friendship as usual, of course. Inspo for the lap sitting comes from this fanart by Emi that I love: [link]
What else...the parts that I'm proud of the most are the stool (I spent 2 days just drawing this stool), the curtains, the fact that I was able to include every truffula colour, and the Once-ler's pose. I was close to giving up on that pose because I had no idea how to draw it but I'm glad that I tried again. I wanted to show him at ease during a stage in his life that we never got to see much: the happier and more innocent days of his biggering when he only had a small shop. 😊
That's all, I think! Thanks for reading if you did! Once again it was an honour to be part of this zine!!
#onceler zine#miru art#onceler#the lorax#lorax#thneed#artists on tumblr#truffula#truffula tree#truffula trees
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Psithurism
(n.) The sound of the wind through trees.
A distant signal halts the Luofu in its eternal travels, the general decides to play detective much to a certain charioteer’s chagrin. During the adventure the general meets a creature who once too traveled the stars, one who wishes to join their eternal journey.
CW: Fluff, monster!reader, mention of the dead (skeleton; vague). 2.6k
Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist
This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.
By comparison the Xianzhou Luofu is far beyond advanced, currently it hovers just beyond the solar system. If it weren’t for an odd energy source they picked up off one planet in the system, they would have cruised on by. A signal like that wouldn’t be odd, they often picked up signals from other ships and planets in the area. The weird thing was, that according to the IPC’s database, this solar system was vacant.
So, what was making that signal? A crash landed ship calling out in distress? A new civilisation making first contact? A last ditch effort to save themselves from something terrible?
While the Luofu is under no obligation to step in on matters like these, typically this would be something the IPC would deal with, if it was a distress signal, the residents may not have the time to spare to wait for an IPC unit. So the Xianzhou Alliance stepped in just this once, the IPC were on their way anyway, they were merely assessing the situation and would report back to the IPC. And if it was just first contact, shouldn’t the general himself be present? He thinks so at least.
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The air of the new planet was warm and a bit humid, nothing like the perfectly crafted atmosphere of the Luofu. The general tugged at his uniform as he and a group of cloud knights make their way towards a small town, the town is walled off and guards walk by above at a leisurely pace.
The cobblestone paved road lets out thuds as their boots make contact, the locals stop their daily activity to stare at them. As far as Jing Yuan could assess, no one seemed to be distressed or in immediate danger.
An older gentleman, clad in what looked like an elevated version of the guards uniform stood in their path, his hand rested leisurely on the hilt of his sword. Jing Yuan, with his signature easy smile, went ahead of his unit and introduced himself.
“Hello, I am General Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu, we picked up a signal from this planet and wondered if you were in need of our assistance.” The man before him’s shoulders tensed, his hand inched up to grip the hilt properly.
“I am Captain Auron, I’m afraid I don’t follow, we haven’t sent any ‘signals’ as far as I am aware.” The captain kept an even tone as he spoke. Jing Yuan simply tilted his head in mild thought, “I see,” he muttered under his breath.
“If that is the case, would you mind if we went looking for this signal, it may not have been yours, but someone else may be in need of our help,” Jing Yuan spoke with a hint of confusion, but overall this did not affect him, the mystery is thickening. He hasn’t had this much fun on a mission in a while, if you can even call this detective work fun.
“I don’t personally mind, as long as you don’t cause any trouble.” Auron’s hand returned to its original spot of resting against the hilt. “But if I may, I have a piece of advice regarding what is beyond the wall.”
“By all means, any help would be greatly appreciated.” Jing Yuan gestured for Auron to continue.
“You probably saw it on your way here, beyond the wall there is a dense forest, it stretches for miles. I’d advise you to stay out of it, the place is cursed, and a monster lurks in its shadows.” Jing Yuan simply nodded and the two parted ways.
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While Jing Yuan and his unit of knights would have liked to follow the advice of the Captain, it seems the signal is coming from within the forest. After a call back to the Luofu, and a moment of rest and prep, the group ventures in. The forest is indeed dense, the small winding paths force them to walk in single file lines. The further in they go, the taller the trees seem to grow, reaching into the sky. The air also gets more humid and water drips down from the leaves above.
A knight startles and draws their weapon, for a moment the whole line is reduced to chaos, only the commanding voice of the general makes them settle down again. He manoeuvres his way through the line, and there, in the centre of all the commotion stands a small, white, somewhat human looking figure. It tilts its head and seems entirely unbothered by the previous commotion, its head clicks back into place and it runs back off into the undergrowth.
The unit continues down the path, more on guard now, more of the small creatures have gathered around them. They trail behind them, mimicking the single file line even though they fit far better on the path. Some run ahead of the general, he pays them little mind, they seem harmless if only curious.
By a fork in the road, the small creatures run down one path, a couple stop and click their heads at the unit. The general chuckles under his breath, before turning down the opposite path, the signal is getting stronger.
By the end of the path a clearing opens up, an odd structure rests in the centre, almost completely overgrown. The signal must be coming from this clearing, from the odd structure Jing Yuan concludes.
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High above, something both human in appearance and not, slinks from branch to branch near soundlessly. You, the only living remnant of the past civilization, observe the newcomers with much intrigue. You have, after many years and radiation, lost your ability to speak any known languages. The small creatures, ghosts you think of them, also left over from the catastrophe, gather around you. You can feel the cold of their bodies touching your skin, but there is no weight as they wander all over your back.
A couple slide down the tree and startle the weary soldiers, you smile to yourself, you would tell them to relax, that the ghosts are harmless. But you are a far more frightening sight, and if the soldiers are scared of the ghosts who knows how they’d feel about you, not to mention you cannot speak.
The ghosts gather at the foot of the tree and stare back up at you, to them you are the most obvious sight, and they click their heads at you. They want you to come down and greet the newcomers, much like you used to in the old days.
A man, with long pale blond hair, walks over to the ruckus, he smiles gently at the ghosts and follows their line of sight. His eyes search the canopy above, their colour a striking shade of gold, one you somewhat recognise. An idea pops into your head, if you can’t speak to communicate, perhaps body language can speak for you.
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The branches above shake and shiver before they fall silent, the small creatures too fall silent, whatever was in the canopy has left. “Cloud knights be on guard, we are not alone out here,” Jing Yuan calls out over the clearing.
They begin removing moss and other plants from the structure, they soon discover a large window, a cockpit with seats behind. The seats are occupied by two bodies, both have been reduced to bones. The small creatures jump around and click as the knights work to reveal an entrance.
Inside the ship a small red light blinks, the small creatures stay outside and simply observe the general through the glass. “This must be the signal we are picking up, so it was a distress signal, I’m afraid we are too late,” he speaks to the knights assessing the inside of the ship.
Shouts echo from outside and the knights before him jump into action, they are staring past him out the cockpit window, the small creatures have started clicking their heads again. In one fluid motion Jing Yuan turns, summoning his weapon to his side.
On the front of the ship, something that appears both human and not sits, you look back at him. The small creatures climb onto you and dangle off your arms, their clicks die down once they have gathered by and on your sides. Your arm extends out towards the glass, in your hand you hold a collection of bright gold flowers.
Jing Yuan exhales after a moment of thinking, with a lazy smile and a wave of his hand the knights lower their weapons. He makes his way out of the ship and meets you by the front, you sit back on your haunches and extend the flowers out to him again. He graciously accepts them, they match his eyes near perfectly and you mentally pat yourself on the back for the right pick.
“Thank you.” Jing Yuan has a somewhat bashful smile on his lips, it is not often the great general receives flowers.
“Peace,” you barely manage to croak out, your voice hoarse and thick from lack of use. The general hums and nods, the small creatures click in response, they too mean peace.
“Cloud knights, these beings come in peace, we can relax.” He addresses the knights around him. The knights are still wary of you and the small ghosts, their shoulders relaxed. The general looked over the flowers once again before offering them back to you, “peace,” he repeats. You accept them gently, mindful of your sharp nails.
“Uh, General,” a knight says tentatively, “it- they look like something of the abundance.” Their eyes flicker between you and the general.
“They do,” Jing Yuan agrees with a curious hum. You tilt your head, distantly you recall something about abundance that seems important, but ultimately this information eludes you.
“The Captain also mentioned a monster in the forest,” a different knight speaks up, “could that not be them?” Other knights join in, nodding along, pointing out oddities and not-human characteristics that match with mara-struck.
“Yes, yes,” the general waves a hand, quieting the group. “I do remember what the Captain said, and yes, I do agree their appearance compared to the locals is peculiar.” He looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the plant-like extrusions littering your body. “But, if they say they come in peace, we have to respect that and not respond with hostility.” The knights nod along and agree amongst themselves. You tilt your head, hardly understanding all their talk.
You hover around the clearing, simply observing the knights as they clean the ship and gather what information they can, all preparations for when the IPC arrives and ask for all their findings. The knights are still bothered by your presence, but having faith in their general’s judgement, they leave you be only sending you weary glances when you move from one spot to another.
Heavy foot falls wake you from your half nap on a large rock at the edge of the clearing, the sun is setting beyond the horizon casting golden light through the canopy. Before you stands the general, he regards you with a hint of mirth.
“Resting in the evening sun I see.” He smiles as you blink slowly at him. “Were it not for my duties here, I may just join you.” You stretch your limbs out, ‘join you’, you mull over those words for a moment.
A knight addresses the general and he turns to their attention, their conversation doesn’t reach your ears, far too busy considering his words. Vaguely you hear the knight list some letters, to which the general nods before he calls a set of orders over the camp.
The group spends the night in the clearing, they sleep as much as they can, but it is abundantly clear to you, they aren’t used to camping out in a forest like this. You offer what reassurance you can by staying in the canopy and watching the paths around, the ghosts settle with you among the branches and keep watch. When the sun begins to rise you clamber back down the tree, the large structure made of metal is heated by the morning sun, and it makes a good resting place.
Some time later commotion wakes you, with a stretch and a yawn you observe the knights flitting about the camp, packing bags and jutting down the last notes. The general leans on the front of the structure reading over some notes, his free hand rests on his chin. With careful movements you slide down the glass and sit behind him, distantly you recall something about personal space as you look over his shoulder.
A smile tugs at the general’s lips, he turns his head to look over his shoulder. “Well good morning. I took the liberty to not wake you, you seemed far too comfortable up there, it’d be a shame to disturb you.” You tilt your head at him, eyes still lingering with sleep, he only smiles back at you.
A pair of knights gather before him, he turns his attention around and is suddenly very serious. “General, all preparations are complete.”
The general nods. “Call the men, gather by the path and wait for orders, we’ll be leaving soon.” The knights salute and leave, in a matter of minutes the knights are gathered by the path ready to leave.
Jing Yuan makes a last round of the clearing, you observe him from above, once he’s done a circle he nods to himself seemingly pleased and approaches you.
“I thank you for your peace, it helped keep the knights at ease.” You tilt your head at him, his tone is affectionate so you assume it’s good. “I bid you farewell for now friend, perhaps we’ll stop by this planet again once the IPC has had their look around. We’ll be leaving for home now.” He tilts his head down slightly. ‘Farewell’, for the first time you understand the meaning of the words he speaks, and it fills you with panic. You reach out, a sharp nailed hand grasping his arm, he turns back to you.
Why do you panic, you wonder, is it loneliness? You have spent the last centuries alone, you meet traveling merchants using shortcuts often enough, is it because these people were not hostile? Perhaps it is something deeper, a reminder of the person you once were, the civilisation you once lived in, one that was a part of the universe. Could it be because these people are from beyond the sky? You feel a longing to travel among the stars again, or you simply miss having a friend.
“Is something the matter?” His voice breaks your train of thought, and while you don’t come to a conclusion as to why you panicked, you have decided something else.
“Join you,” you repeat his words from earlier. He seems to think it over, looks back at the group waiting for his next orders, with a sigh he nods.
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to join us, so I’ll allow it.”
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Before your eyes the stars once more stretch endlessly, winking and shining, like they're welcoming you back. Somewhere distantly you can hear the general getting an earful from a woman. Jing Yuan, his name, one he spent the better half of the journey back home teaching you.
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x male reader#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x y/n#jing yuan x gender neutral reader#jing yuan#jing yuan x you#hsr fluff#fluff
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but what if you're the one for me?
when were you going to tell me you were seeing someone? i thought i was the first person you told about that stuff.
- Cassie Howard
but what if you're the one for me?
when were you going to tell me you were seeing someone? i thought i was the first person you told about that stuff.
Pronouns: He/Him/His
Gathering the multiple party-sized bags into your arms, you peered over the top of them as you followed Lexi out of the kitchen and into the living room where the girls had gathered around. From the flush on Cassie's cheek and the way Maddy and Kat giggled, Suze must've told a helluva story. Lexi carefully balanced the small cups of dippings with one arm and began setting them down on the coffee table alongside the scattered candy wrappers and beer cans.
"Finally," Maddy groaned, wiping her lips free of beer and reaching for one of the tortilla chip bags you held. She ripped it open and dug inside, pulling two chips free and eagerly dipping them into the guacamole. She did a blissful shimmy when she munched on the chips and happily went in for more chips.
"So, (Y/N)," Kat began with a wicked grin, her eyes watching you set the rest of the bags down on the table. You glanced at her questionably and settled down nicely beside Cassie, already feeling ganged up on from the way Maddy and BB turned to Kat expectantly. She took her time, sipping on her beer and taking a bite out of a chip before continuing. "I heard that you and Tammy Lewis were getting a little cozy at the movies last Sunday."
"What?!" Maddy nearly shrieked with a mouthful of chips, her head whipping around to look at you with wide eyes. "You dick! Why didn't you tell us?"
The guys at school who constantly badgered you with questions as to how you could've possibly managed to land a spot in a friend group consisting of the prettiest popular cheerleaders in school had no clue the type of torture you'd been under since 6th grade.
It'd all started one fateful afternoon during lunchtime when the snotty boy in front of you had made fun of Kat and tried to flee before Maddy could lay into him. It'd been instinctive how you stuck your leg out and sent him toppling to the floor. The humiliation of not only falling in front of half the school combined with getting a bloody nose had made the boy cry and you'd been given a couple days of suspension. When you returned afterward, you'd been formally invited to sit with the girls at lunch by none other than Madeleine Perez.
From then on, the girls kept you around and you were quickly dubbed the luckiest guy in school, even if you viewed all the girls as sisters and they treated you like a baby brother they liked dressing up and cooing over. But along with the territory of brother, came the gossip, drama, and the fact every single person you vaguely showed interest in had to be approved by the council.
"It's not serious, Mads, I swear. It's just.... dating. We're not together."
"Not yet." BB cooed, exhaling a breath of smoke and snickering when you groaned.
"Tammy Lewis," Maddy murmured and leaned back into the cushion of the couch with squinted eyes. "She's pretty, I guess."
"She's failing English," Kat added, "Like kindergarten reading comprehension type of failing."
"I think she's sweet." Lexi piped in, cradling a cola can in her hands and shrugging her shoulders.
"It's not serious," You groaned again. "I would've told you guys if it were, I swear! It was just one date and nothing happened."
Maddy squinted again. "Nothing? Not even a little kiss?"
"Maybe... maybe like one kiss-"
"And you didn't tell us?!" Maddy shrieked again and grabbed a pillow, tossing it over the coffee table and hitting you square in the chest. Unnaturally quiet Cassie laughed, albeit forced and slightly awkward, and retrieved the pillow before it could go tumbling to the floor. You glanced at the blonde, finally noting her lack of input but decided to leave it for later rather than put her on the spot.
The rest of the night had been the same as others, with a couple movies put on the TV until the girls ultimately passed out either on the floor or the couch. Suze ensured everyone had blankets and pillows as she called up the parents to alert them their kids would be staying over before she retreated upstairs to her bedroom with one last glass of wine in hand.
You'd been curled up on the end of the couch on the brink of dozing off until the feeling of someone slipping by startled you awake and you caught Cassie slipping into the kitchen. You yawned and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, tugging the blanket over your shoulders and shuffling after her into the kitchen.
"Oh, hey," She greeted quietly, taking a water bottle out of the fridge and drinking from it.
"You okay?" You questioned and leaned against one of the counters, trying to fight the exhaustion from clouding your brain. Cassie brushed some loose strands of hair back and took another sip of water, the look on her face conflicted. Cassie confided in you all the time, whether about guys or her mother, so her hesitation seemed odd.
"When were you going to tell me you were seeing someone?" She asked quietly, running her finger over the rim of the bottle. "I thought I was the first person you told about that stuff."
"You've got a lot on your plate already, Cass. I thought it'd be better to let you recover from... everything." Your eyes flickered down to her belly. She'd hardly been able to tell the girls about it when she found out, seeing as Maddy and Kat had gotten into it and angered each other that day. McKay had known, of course he had, but he hadn't been the one she called when the procedure had been over and done with.
"I... I'm fine, (Y/N). I'm past it. I'm past McKay. He didn't make me feel... special or loved or.. beautiful. I know that's how love is supposed to make you feel. It- It shouldn't make you feel like shit." Cassie said, setting the bottle aside and turning to face you. Her eyes softened and then began to glisten with tears. You frowned and moved the blanket from your shoulders, taking a step closer and wrapping it around her instead. "He wasn't the one for me... but what if you're the one for me?"
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#euphoria#euphoria x reader#euphoria x male reader#euphoria x y/n#euphoria x you#cassie howard#cassie howard x reader#cassie howard x male reader#cassie howard x y/n#cassie howard x you#maddy perez#kat hernandez#euphoria bb#lexi howard#suze howard
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Jjk Men in Fairytale Retellings
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𝕮𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔 <3
(10k words)
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Content Warnings: Cinderella Choso × Fem Prince Charming Reader. This is kinda genderbender. The women follow male gender norms and men follow female gender norms, but they're still women and men respectively. And yes, choso is wearing a dress and panties, that's intentional.
Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI. P in V. Unprotected Sex. Oral (f & m receiving). Face Sitting. Size Kink. Overstimulation. Exhibitionism. Slight Dub-Con. Idk what else to add, tell me if I missed something.
Thank you @daymarenightdream1 , @h0n3ysgh0st and pinkie for being my beta readers and helping with the cw.
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𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢, in a world where gender norms are not quite what we're used to, there lived Cinderella Choso. He was a soft-spoken, kind-hearted boy who somehow managed to make even the simplest dresses look elegant—duh. His days were filled with chores, thanks to his stepmother, Kenjaku, and his two over-the-top stepsisters, Eso and Kechizu, who treated him more like a servant than family.
That morning, Cinderella Choso was on his hands and knees, scrubbing the already spotless floor, when Kenjaku sauntered into the room, holding a cup of tea like it was a trophy.
“You missed a spot,” Kenjaku said lazily, gesturing vaguely at the floor with the kind of smugness only a true villain could pull off.
Choso paused, tilting his head to inspect the gleaming tiles. “Where?”
Kenjaku raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of tea. “Emotionally. The floor doesn’t feel clean.”
Choso blinked at him, then decided not to respond. He wasn’t sure what that even meant, and honestly, he didn’t care to find out. Arguing with Kenjaku was like trying to reason with a storm—it was loud, exhausting, and always left him feeling worse.
In the other room, Eso and Kechizu were bickering loudly over their outfits for the royal ball that night.
“I’ll win over prince Y/N for sure,” Eso declared, holding up a sequined gown that sparkled so brightly it practically blinded Choso from where he was standing. He twirled dramatically, nearly knocking over a vase in the process.
“You? Win over the prince? Don’t make me laugh,” Kechizu snapped, holding a pair of heeled slippers like they were some kind of weapon. “I’ll be the one to catch her eye. You don’t even know how to walk in heels.”
“Better than you!” Eso shot back, his voice rising in indignation.
Cinderella Choso just kept scrubbing, doing his best to tune them out. This was normal, after all. He’d grown up in this chaos, surrounded by people who seemed to thrive on drama. The royal ball wasn’t meant for someone like him, anyway. It was for people like Eso and Kechizu—people who fit into that glittering world. He wasn’t bitter about it. Just… resigned.
By the time the house had emptied and the carriage had rolled away, Cinderella Choso found himself sitting by the fireplace, the only sound the faint crackle of the flames. He stared at the mop leaning against the wall, considering whether he should name it. At least it wouldn’t talk back.
The room felt emptier than usual, and though he wasn’t one to dwell on things, a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like—to dress up, to dance, to be seen as more than just the boy in the shadows.
But that kind of life wasn’t meant for him. Or so he thought.
Then, with a loud poof that sent soot flying everywhere, a man appeared. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and shirtless, because apparently magical beings don’t believe in modesty. Tattoos coiled up his arms and across his chest, and he had this grin that could only be described as “murderous.” His pink hair was messy in an I-don’t-care way, and he had sharp, glowing eyes that made Choso immediately question if this guy was here to help or hurt.
“Ugh, look at you,” the man said, sneering as he glanced around the room. “Pathetic. Sitting in a pile of ash like some tragic little loser. No wonder your life sucks.”
Cinderella Choso blinked, taken aback. “Uh… who are you?”
“I’m your Fairy Godmother,” the man announced, planting his glowing staff on the ground with a thud. “But you can call me Sukuna. Let’s get this pity party over with so you can go embarrass yourself at the ball.”
Choso frowned. “Aren’t Fairy Godmothers supposed to be… you know, nice?”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “I’m nice enough to show up and fix your dumpster-fire life, aren’t I? Be grateful.”
Choso just stared. Sukuna, clearly unbothered, started waving his staff around like he was conducting an orchestra. “Alright, enough whining. Let’s make you look less… tragic.”
He raised his staff without waiting for an answer, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an insult, and in an instant, Cinderella Choso’s plain, soot-stained dress shimmered and transformed. The fabric turned into a soft, flowing baby-pink gown, delicate as a rose petal, with subtle silver accents that sparkled under the flickering firelight. The sleeves were sheer and billowy, giving the outfit an ethereal touch, and the neckline was modest yet elegant, perfectly suited to someone as shy and unassuming as Choso.
His hair, which had been loosely tied back in a messy bun, now fell in smooth waves down his back, held in place by a small, glimmering clip shaped like a crescent moon. On his feet were glass slippers—simple and lovely but with heels that looked slightly impractical, as if designed by someone who didn’t care much about comfort.
Cinderella Choso blushed as he glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall. “It’s… nice,” he murmured, smoothing the fabric nervously. “I like it.”
“Of course, you do. I made it,” Sukuna said, crossing his arms and grinning smugly. “Now, let’s get you out of here before I change my mind.”
He waved his staff again with dramatic flair, and a nearby pumpkin swelled and stretched until it became a sleek, elegant carriage. A group of rats squeaked in protest as they were magically transformed into well-groomed horses, their tiny tails vanishing with a poof.
“Rules are simple,” Sukuna said, grabbing a sparkly mask from thin air and tossing it to Choso. “Be back by 3 a.m., or everything goes back to normal. That includes your dress, your carriage, and probably your dignity. Got it?”
Choso nodded, clutching the mask tightly.
“And for the love of everything holy, don’t embarrass me out there,” Sukuna added, glaring at him. “You’re wearing a baby-pink dress to a ball. The bar for failure is low.”
Cinderella Choso felt his cheeks heat up but chose not to respond. Instead, he carefully climbed into the carriage, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted the skirt of his gown.
Sukuna watched him go, leaning casually on his staff. “Good luck, kid,” he muttered, his voice softer but still teasing. “You’ll need it.”
As the carriage rolled away into the night, Cinderella Choso took a deep breath, his heart racing. He had no idea what to expect, but for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to feel a tiny spark of excitement.
And so, Cinderella Choso was off to the ball, and somewhere along the way meet you—Prince Charming, the most ridiculously charming woman in the kingdom.
The grand ballroom was in full swing. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a golden haze over the room, bouncing off delicate, crystal glasses and glinting across the polished floors. Guests drifted in and out of conversation, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of the orchestra.
Cinderella Choso stepped into the room, his eyes wide, taking in the scene around him. The extravagant gowns, the glint of jewelry, the laughter that echoed from the walls—it all felt so far removed from his reality. He stood just inside the doorway for a moment, trying to steady his breath. The pink dress he wore clung to him in a way that made him feel exposed and small. His heart raced in his chest, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd made a mistake even coming.
But then, you appeared.
You stood near the edge of the ballroom, casually talking to someone, but when you turned, your gaze locked onto him across the room, and everything seemed to stop. You were in a sharp, midnight-blue suit, tailored perfectly to fit your figure. It was sleek and elegant, with just the right amount of softness, your presence commanding attention without being overwhelming. Your face was soft, your hair neatly styled, and there was a quiet confidence about you that made it impossible for Cinderella Choso to look away.
You didn’t say anything at first, just let your eyes meet his, studying him, before a gentle smile curved your lips. You took a few steps towards him, weaving through the crowd like you owned the space. The sound of the music, the chatter, all faded away, leaving just the two of you in the center of it all.
“Hello,” you said, your voice smooth and warm as you gently took his hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Y/N.”
His heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing. “I—I’m Cinderella Choso,” he stammered, not sure where to look.
You smiled, your gaze lingering on him. Cinderella Choso felt a rush of heat flood his face under the intensity of your gaze. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, unsure of where to look.
“You look absolutely stunning tonight,” you said, your voice smooth and genuine, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. The compliment made his heart race in his chest, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words to respond.
His voice was soft, almost inaudible, as he mumbled, “T-Thank you... I—I’m not used to... being noticed.” His cheeks were burning now, and he wished he could shrink into the floor.
You chuckled lightly, your smile only growing warmer. “Would you care to dance?” you asked, your voice inviting.
Cinderella Choso hesitated, his mind racing as his heart hammered in his chest. It took him a moment to realize that he was actually standing there, face to face with you, and he still hadn’t said yes. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded, his hand trembling as he reached out to take yours.
As you led him to the center of the ballroom, the music swelled into a slow waltz, and he could feel the tension in his body, the unfamiliarity of the situation, the soft pressure of your hand in his. His heart drummed against his chest as you moved fluidly in rhythm with him. Your body was warm against his, your movements confident and graceful, but you never rushed him.
The dance wasn’t perfect, but with every step, you guided him, never letting him falter. You made him feel safe in the way you held him, steady and sure, your presence somehow grounding. When you looked at him, it wasn’t with judgment or expectation, but with genuine interest, like you were seeing him for who he truly was, beyond the awkwardness he felt.
“You’re doing just fine,” you whispered softly, your voice light, teasing him just a little. “I’m impressed.”
Cinderella Choso’s chest tightened, but not in discomfort. There was something about the way you made him feel—important, seen—that took away the nervous edge in his body. His smile was shy but genuine. “I’ve never danced like this before,” he admitted softly.
“Then I’m honored to be your first,” you said, your smile deepening. It wasn’t just kind—it was sincere. “We’ll make it memorable.”
You guided him with such care, as though it was second nature for you to put others at ease. The music slowed, but your hand stayed firmly on his back, the pressure warm and comforting. When the song ended, you didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, your fingers lingered on his hand, a soft touch that sent a strange warmth through him.
“Shall we get some air?” you asked, offering your arm.
Cinderella Choso nodded, his heart still racing. You led him through the grand hall, down a corridor that seemed to be untouched by the noise of the party. The castle was vast, but you knew it like the back of your hand, guiding him through secret passageways, showing him hidden corners.
The tension between you was thick, crackling with every glance, every touch. You weren’t making it obvious, but Cinderella Choso could feel it. It was in the way your fingers brushed his every now and then, in the soft smiles that lingered a little too long. He wasn’t sure if it was the intimacy of the moment or something else, but he couldn’t look away from you.
You led him outside to a secluded garden, bathed in moonlight. The scent of flowers was intoxicating, filling the air with a sense of magic, of something otherworldly. You took his hand again, pulling him gently along a narrow path that led to a hidden entrance behind thick vines. There, behind the foliage, was a secret garden—a place no one else knew about.
A beautiful pavilion stood in the center, its walls draped with delicate flowers, the entire structure seemingly carved from nature itself. Inside the pavilion, the floor was cushioned; and soft, fluffy pillows of various sizes scattered across the cozy bed. The space felt intimate, a retreat far away from the watchful eyes of the ballroom.
“This is…” Cinderella Choso’s voice trailed off, his heart skipping a beat as he took in the scene. It was serene, quiet, and so completely different from everything else in the castle. “Beautiful.”
You smiled, removed your shoes, and sat down on one of the larger pillows, motioning for him to join you. “It’s my secret hideaway. Only a few people know about it.” You patted the cushion beside you. “I come here when I need to think, to be alone.”
Cinderella Choso hesitated, then took off his heels and sat down beside you, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your body, but not quite close enough to touch. The silence between you two felt thick, comfortable, like you were both holding your breath.
“I’m glad you showed me this,” he said softly, finally breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, almost unsure, but sincere.
“Me too,” you replied, your voice lower now, almost intimate. “I don’t usually bring anyone here.”
Cinderella Choso turned to look at you, his heart beating faster at the intensity in your gaze. The world outside seemed distant, fading into nothing as you both stayed there, in this small, secret place. You leaned a little closer, and the tension in the air seemed to wrap around you both, like a fine thread drawing you closer.
The world outside could wait. Here, in this hidden garden, nothing mattered. Only the unspoken connection, the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that was now crackling in the air.
“You know,” you said, voice low and teasing, “If you’re not careful, I might just keep you here forever.”
Cinderella Choso’s breath hitched, and for a moment, everything stopped. He was so close to you now, the distance between you two shrinking with every word, every breath. His pulse raced, and for the first time that night, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The moment your lips met his, Cinderella Choso froze, his breath hitching in his throat. For a second, it seemed like he might pull away, his hands hovering uncertainly at your sides. Then, as if something gave way inside him, he grabbed your waist and kissed you back, his movements sudden and unrestrained.
At first, it was clumsy and rushed, his lips pressing hard against yours as if he wasn’t sure how to keep up with the storm of emotions. His breathing was uneven, shallow gasps breaking through the sounds of your kisses. His hands moved hesitantly but firmly, clutching at your waist and back, desperate to pull you closer.
You melted into him, your hands threading through his hair and pulling him even closer. You could feel his nervous energy in the way he moved, but it only made you smile against his lips. You tried to slow his pace, letting him match your rhythm, trying to ground his frantic energy with the soft, deliberate way your lips moved against his.
When he broke away to breathe, his face was bright red, and he couldn’t meet your eyes, his gaze darting everywhere but at you. You cupped his face gently, guiding him to look at you. “Choso,” you murmured softly, and his eyes widened, his blush deepening.
Before you could say anything more, he surged forward again, more determined this time. His kisses were rough and messy, his inexperience showing in the way his teeth grazed your lips and his hands fumbled to hold you. But you didn’t mind—it was raw, unfiltered, and so very him.
You let out a soft gasp as his lips found your neck, his movements hurried and unpracticed. Your hand slid down to his back, soothing the tension in his shoulders, your touch steadying him as he pressed closer.
Still, whenever he glanced at you, his shyness crept back, softening his frantic movements for just a second before his hands and lips found you again. You tilted his chin up, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek, and his trembling grip on you tightened in response.
Suddenly, Choso pushed you down on the cushioned floor and climbed on top of you. His wayward tongue grew more unruly in your warm mouth, his actions sending heated shivers to your core. He mewled through his erratic kisses as his fumbling, frantic hands began pulling at your clothes and undressing you.
His movements were quick, almost frenzied, as if driven by a force he couldn’t control. Your royal attire almost tore as he threw it to the garden floor. He pulled back for just a moment, and you opened your eyes only to see the wild, frantic look in his eyes, wide and unblinking, filled with raw urgency and need, as if he couldn’t bear to wait another moment.
His eyes were locked onto the delicate curves of your frame, his gaze particularly lingering on the flushed swell of your breasts and the hardened nipples. His eyes followed his hands as they shamelessly traveled every which way on your body making you gasp out in pleasure. Choso was panting above you, his chest rising and falling as unrestrained desire flickered in his eyes, and it made you shiver with excitement.
His hands moved to his own clothes next. Choso fumbled with the fabric of his dress, his movements rushed and impatient, tugging at the delicate seams and buttons crafted by Sukuna’s magic. He huffed in frustration, tugging harder, and managed to peel off a few layers of the dress. The outer fabric loosened, revealing the smooth undershirt beneath, but the enchanted material still resisted fully giving way. Despite his best efforts, only parts of the intricate outfit now hung messily off his shoulders.
Noticing the frustration on his face, you gently called out through your heavy breaths, "He-hey, slow down. There's no need to rush."
But as if your voice had yanked the beast's attention back to you, Choso's head snapped in your direction. You don't know what happened next, or how, but Choso's mouth was back on your skin. His undershirt joined your clothes on the ground, and a manic, whimpering Choso was pressing kisses all over you. Biting and sucking on your skin, he was leaving large hickeys and bruises as his mouth travelled lower and lower until he found your leaking pussy.
Choso whined loudly, and the vibrations sent jolts of electricity to the steadily building coil in your core. Your entire body shuddered as though someone had pulled your soul out when he started sucking your folds with full force. It felt as if he was making out with your pussy in the same rough and messy way he was kissing you moments ago, his ceaseless actions stimulating your clit as well.
It felt like your mind was unraveling, every coherent thought dissolving into the overwhelming sensation that consumed you. Your flickering gaze drooped down to Choso. His ears and neck were flushed red, eyes tightly screwed shut, with moans and deep groans escaping his lips as if he was the one receiving pleasure, and maybe he was.
It was getting too much, the overwhelming feeling was unbearable. You forced words out of your half-open mouth, trying your best to sound lucid, "Ch-cho... Choso s-stop. Slow down b-baby, 's too much..."
Your voice comes out shaky and breathless. But it's as if your words are swallowed by the air between you, his movements remain relentless, driven by an intensity that seems to blind him to everything else. Your protests falter, mingling with your uneven breaths, as his focus stays singular, unwavering, like he’s caught in a trance that nothing can break.
His tongue thrusts into your quivering hole, as his nose keeps on nudging the sensitive nerves of your clit. He was so shy at first. You didn't think he had much experience in these affairs when you brought him to the hidden garden, but his performance was making you second guess. Still, he seemed inexperienced with how uncoordinated, aimless and chaotic his movements were. But the sheer force in his actions made stars flicker behind your eyes.
The pleasure surged through you, sharp and unrelenting, until it overtook every part of you. Your body tensed, trembling uncontrollably, as your thoughts fragment into nothingness. It’s too much—blinding, deafening, overwhelming—until your mind can no longer keep up. Your senses give way, and the world around you vanishes, leaving you in a black void of sensation.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, the warmth still buzzing under your skin. A fleeting moment of clarity starts to settle. Fuck, that was just from going down on you?—
But your thoughts are cut off as the sound of clothes rustling suddenly joins the deep, uneven breaths filling the garden.
You open your eyes to see Choso hastily yanking down his slacks and panties in one swift motion, the fabric bunching around his knees. Your eyes fixate on something else, unable to look away. It's beautiful, unlike anything you've seen before.
His cock that sprang out was a pretty cherry pink colour, with veins that trace along his shaft like rivers. Silky smooth skin covered the slight upward curve of his length. The head was a flushed, angry red, as though the heat had spread from within, coloring it with a deep, vivid hue. It pulsed with intensity, a clear sign of the tension building beneath the surface, with his precum dripping from the slit. And the size—wait. No, this can't be right. It's too much. He's massive.
Your eyes widen in realization, a wave of panic suddenly washing over you. Your hands grip the sheets as a small shred of fear claws at your chest, pulling you back to reality. No, no, no—this won't work. It won’t fit. You scramble away from Choso, twisting your body as you quickly turn on your knees to distance yourself. But you feel his hand grip your ankle and yank your body straight back to him.
Your back is pressed against his chest as you feel Choso's entire body weight press down on you, pinning you in place and leaving you unable to move. Then you feel two things sink into you, Choso's teeth in your shoulder and his massive cock in your pussy. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as his size overwhelms you, stretching you far beyond what you're accustomed to. It's almost too much, your body tensing as it struggles to accomodate the intensity of him. Each movement only deepens the sensation, both pain and pleasure pushing you to the edge of what you can handle.
A deep guttural groan echoes from Choso's throat straight into your ear. He completely stills for a moment as if he too seems to need some time to adjust to the feeling of being inside you. Then he's rambling, babbling in his pussydrunk state.
Choso's voice was shaky, breath coming in quick gasps as he muttered, "This—this feels so good... so tight... can't... can't get enough of you." His hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, his words slipping out in a desperate breathless rush. "You feel... incredible. I don't know how much longer I can... this is—this is everything... "
Choso starts plunging into you, his hips snapping against yours, each movement fast, hard and deep. The familiar tightness slowly takes hold in your core. With every thrust the pain melted away and only mind numbing pleasure remained.
Your words tumble out in a frantic, incoherent rush, your body trembling as you clung to the sheets. "I... can't... so good, Choso, feels too good... please, don't stop... don't stop, please..." Your voice was shaky, breathy, barely above a whisper, as if the sensation was overwhelming your every thought.
You're practically mewling as each wave of pleasure blurs the edges of reality, leaving you teetering on the brink of madness. Your body trembles uncontrollably, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as if you were drowning in ecstasy. The intensity was almost too much, a raw, primal force that left you clutching desperately at the remnants of your sanity.
Your body moves against him on it's own, joining in on his rhythm. Choso moans in your ears, and the voice sends more uncontrollable shivers to your core. You force your eyes open as much as you could through the haze of your blinding pleasure and turn your head to the side to look at him. Choso was completely feral, his expression raw and intense. You swore you could see hearts in his eyes, his gaze burning with something wild. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, and he was moaning and whimpering, while mercilessly thrusting in and out of you. He was completely out of control.
His sheer size was making you feel everything as his cock slid against you, reaching every corner and hitting your sweet spot again and again. Your pleasure builds hard and fast, and snaps before you could comprehend it. Your mouth hangs slightly open, drool escaping and pooling on the sheets below your cheek as your head spins with overwhelming pleasure. Your thoughts are scattered, each sensation mixing together, leaving your brain in a muddled haze, unable to focus on anything but the dizzying rush of pleasure flooding your senses.
You orgasm sets off Choso's own as your pussy tightens around him, trembling and quivering, and he cums inside you with a loud moan while giving slow, messy thrusts. The warm liquid pools inside, filling you, and spills out around the base of his cock and on the sheets. Tears stain Choso's cheeks as he starts crying, sniffles and sobs mixing with his moans, and you feel the warm drops on your shoulder.
Both yours and Choso's breaths come in ragged, uneven bursts. Your haze is slowly about to lift, and the trembling in your limbs was just about to subside, but Choso flips you over to face him and starts moving again. He's still hard inside you despite his powerful orgasm and how much he came. His movements pick up their speed, and he whines while sliding in and out of you.
Overstimulation grips your body, and you squirm and thrash underneath him. Choso grips your hips to force your body still as he moves faster and deeper inside you. "Choso... i-it's... too much," you gasp.
He leans down and pecks your lips, and breathes into your mouth, "I know... me too..." before capturing your lips in a deep, bruising kiss. His desperate actions over you don't stop, whining through his own overstimulation, as he pulls multiple orgasms out of you till you lose count and your highs start bleeding into each other.
Every time your vision goes black because of pleasure, and you drift in and out of consciousness in exhaustion, Choso fills you up with his sticky seed till you overflow and he's shooting blanks, while pressing kisses all over your body. This goes on for what feels like an eternity, and your body felt completely drained, every muscle heavy and limp, yet there was a comforting warmth that enveloped you, a deep sense of contentment, your mind floating in a blissful haze.
Choso, now calmer and free from his earlier fluster, was covering you with gentle kisses, murmuring soft "I love you"s as you lay there, blissfully tired and unable to move. His touch was tender, each kiss filled with quiet affection, as if he was trying to memorize every moment.
Suddenly, the deep toll of the palace bell echoed through the night. Choso froze, his eyes widening in alarm as he remembered fairy godmother Sukuna's warning—3 a.m. was the deadline, and the magic would soon start unraveling.
Panic flickered across his face as he sat up abruptly. “I have to go,” he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and regret.
You reached out weakly, your fingers brushing his arm. “Wait... wait till morning,” you mumbled, your voice slurred with exhaustion. There was more you wanted to say—something about a curse, about needing him to stay—but the words came out as incoherent murmurs, fragments of a plea lost in the haze of your tiredness.
Choso hesitated, his expression torn, but the chime of the bell spurred him into action. He scrambled off the pavilion, hastily pulling on his dress. He paused for a moment, looking back at you with a mix of longing and sorrow.
“I love you,” he said one last time, his voice soft but firm, before slipping out of the garden and into the night.
The next morning arose with a bright yellow glow from the east. You stir in the sheets of the pavilion, before slowly opening your eyes to the beautifully painted glass ceiling. The birds were chirping in the hidden garden, and the scent of the numerous flowers swirled in the air.
The memories of the night before came rushing to your mind, every fragment crystal clear except one: his face. You had tried your best, through your exhaustion, to get Cinderella Choso to stay with you till you could see him again in the morning, but he left anyway.
You tried to tell him—to get but a word in—that you were cursed. A long time ago, a lady of magic, offended by the king, had cursed her only heir: you. According to the curse, every morning, you forgot each and every face you saw the day before, including your own.
It was a well-guarded royal secret that only a few were privy to. And you wanted the man who stole your heart (along with the strength in your legs) to know it too. He was gone now, and it would be difficult to find him with just a name without the face. But there's something else you remember, something that even a curse couldn't erase from your mind: his beautiful, glistening pink dick.
Scrambling out of the sheets and into your clothes, before smoothing your hair down the best you could to make yourself somewhat presentable, you stepped out of the garden and went to the palace in search of your aide.
The air in the aide’s office was heavy with the scent of parchment and ink, the flicker of candlelight illuminating his focused face as he worked through a stack of documents. He barely looked up as you entered, his pen scratching against the paper.
“Where did you disappear off to last night?” he asked, his tone curious but not pressing.
You waved a dismissive hand, brushing off the question. “It’s not important,” you replied, stepping closer. “I need you to summon the royal painter immediately.”
The aide blinked, finally setting down his pen to look at you fully. “The royal painter? What for?”
“Just do it,” you said, your tone brooking no argument. His brow furrowed, but he nodded, reaching for the small bell on his desk to summon a servant to deliver the orders.
Moments later, the royal painter, an older man with streaks of grey in his beard, shuffled into the room, looking a little confused.
The painter gave a short bow, his expression perplexed. “Your Highness, what service do you require?”
You stepped forward, clasping your hands together in determination. “I need you to paint something from my memory,” you said, your voice steady. “A man’s dick.”
The painter sputtered and blinked rapidly, visibly startled by the peculiar request. “A p-penis, Your Highness?”
“Yes,” you confirmed, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “It’s vital.”
Though clearly appalled and confused, the painter nodded, pulling out his tools and setting to work as you described every detail of Cinderella Choso’s cock. You spoke with precision, recalling the faint lines on his shaft, the slight upward curve of his length, the veins running along the length, the pinkish red flushed head that was a darker shade than the rest of this cock, and the soft sheen of his skin. The painter’s expression grew more incredulous with each stroke, but he remained silent, committed to the task.
When he finished, you scrutinized the painting, your heart leaping at how perfectly he had captured it. “Good,” you said with a nod. “Now make several copies of it. As many as you can manage within the next hour.”
The painter hesitated, glancing at the aide as if hoping for an explanation. When none came, he sighed and got to work, summoning his apprentices to assist.
As you waited, a royal guard entered the room, bowing deeply. “Your Highness, the King has summoned you to the throne room.”
You inhaled sharply, straightening your posture. “Very well,” you said, smoothing your attire once more. “I’ll return shortly,” you told the aide before following the guard out.
The throne room was as grand as ever, the King seated at its center. Her piercing gaze bore into you as you entered, the tension in the air palpable. “You’re late,” she said, her voice sharp.
“My apologies, Your Majesty,” you said, offering a polite bow.
The King leaned forward, her expression severe. “I summoned you to discuss a matter of great importance. The princess I told you of last night, of the neighboring kingdom, the one you danced with at the start—he would make a fine royal spouse. The union would strengthen our ties and secure our future.”
You hesitated, the memory of Cinderella Choso flashing through your mind. “I met someone last night,” you said, your voice unwavering. “I fell in love with him, and I’ve decided I’m going to marry him.”
The King’s expression darkened, frustration evident. “You would throw away a carefully arranged alliance for some man you met at a ball? Do you even know who he is?”
“I do not,” you admitted, “but I will find him.”
The King’s hand clenched the arm of her throne, her face reddening. “You’re being reckless,” she snapped. “This marriage is crucial to the kingdom’s future!”
“Then perhaps you should have been clearer about that before inviting every eligible suitor to the ball,” you retorted calmly.
"Besides, with the amount of cum inside me right now, I doubt any kingdom would want to marry off their princess to me when my belly swells in a few months." You add with a faint smirk on your calm face.
"You!" The king's anger reached its peak, and before you could say another word, she clutched her chest, her face twisting in pain. “Your Majesty!” a servant cried, rushing to her side as she collapsed into the throne.
You didn’t linger. Turning on your heel, you left the chaos behind, your resolve unshaken.
By the time you reached the training grounds, the knights were gathered in neat rows, their polished armor clinking softly as they practiced their drills. You held up the paintings in your hands, ensuring they all saw the image clearly.
“This is the man I’m looking for,” you announced, your voice carrying across the courtyard. “Compare this painting to the dick of every man in the kingdom. Find him, no matter how long it takes.”
The knights saluted in unison, determination in their eyes as they accepted their copies.
Turning to the aide, who had followed you silently, you gave your next order. “Make an announcement,” you said. “Tell the kingdom I met a man at the ball last night, and he’s stolen my heart. We’ll find him with these paintings. Any man whose dick matches the image will be married to me.”
The aide hesitated, his brow furrowing in concern. “Your Highness, are you certain—” Although he was used to your antics by now, this one was far too ridiculous to not question.
“Do it,” you interrupted, your tone leaving no room for doubt.
As the knights dispersed and the aide hurried off to carry out your orders, you felt a strange mix of determination and trepidation. Somewhere out there, Cinderella Choso was waiting—and you wouldn’t rest until he was by your side once more.
The days turned into weeks, the search spanning every corner of the kingdom. The knights traveled tirelessly, comparing the painting of the glistening cock to every eligible man they encountered, but no match had been found. Each negative report brought a growing sense of worry, a restlessness that kept you pacing through the corridors of the palace late into the night. The weight of your promise pressed heavily on your shoulders. What if you had lost him forever?
Finally, the aide presented the list of remaining houses. “This is the last one,” he said, handing you the parchment with a weary expression.
Your eyes scanned the address. A modest home tucked into the farthest corner of the kingdom. The final hope.
“I’m going with them,” you declared. The aide opened his mouth to protest, but your determined gaze silenced him. The next morning, you rode out with the knights, the journey long and arduous as the distant town came into view.
Meanwhile, in that very house, Stepmother Kenjaku paced the floor, his long robes rustling with every turn. The news of the prince's search had reached even the farthest corners, and Kenjaku was determined to seize the opportunity. He had spent weeks preparing his two daughters, Eso and Kechizu, for the inevitable visit.
“You must be perfect,” he told them sternly, inspecting their dicks. Eso winced as Kenjaku pressed a scale to his cock, the length was far from satisfactory. Kechizu groaned in frustration as another mixture of oils and creams was slathered onto his dick in a desperate attempt to make it more appealing.
“Remember,” Kenjaku said with a wicked grin, “if one of you marries the prince, we’ll live in the palace, and our troubles will be over.”
“Yes, Mother,” they chimed in unison, their faces contorting into forced smiles.
When the knock finally came, Kenjaku hurried to the door, his heart racing. He opened it with a deep bow, his oily charm seeping through every word. “Your Highness, what an honor! Please, come in!”
You stepped inside, your knights following as Kenjaku led you to a modest sitting area in the hall. You settled into the soft couch, your posture regal despite the humble surroundings.
“These are my daughters, Eso and Kechizu,” Kenjaku announced with exaggerated pride as the two boys stepped forward, their hands clasped demurely before them.
You glanced at their faces and had to fight the urge to recoil. The sharp angles of their features and their overly powdered skin were anything but appealing. Their forced grins only made them look more unsettling.
“They’re definitely not the man I’m looking for,” you said flatly, not even bothering to compare the painting. “There’s no need.”
Kenjaku’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Your Highness? They’ve been preparing—”
Your sharp gaze cut him off. “According to the records, there are three daughters in this household.”
Kenjaku’s expression tightened, but he quickly masked his displeasure with a nervous laugh. “Ah, the third,” he said dismissively, waving a hand. “He's not truly my daughter, Your Highness. A stepchild of my late husband from her first marriage, nothing more than a servant. Hardly worthy of your attention.”
“Call him anyway,” you ordered, your tone leaving no room for argument.
Kenjaku hesitated for a moment before turning to a nearby servant and barking out the order. Moments later, the sound of footsteps descending a creaking staircase filled the air.
When Cinderella Choso appeared, your breath caught in your throat. His disheveled hair framed his face, strands sticking out wildly, and a smudge of ash darkened his cheek. He wore a simple maid’s outfit, the hem fraying slightly at the edges, but none of that mattered.
The moment you saw him, the memory of that night came flooding back in its entirety. His face—his beautiful, soft features, the gentle curve of his lips, and the warmth in his eyes—had been restored in your mind as if the curse had never taken hold. He was the man you’d fallen for, the man whose cock you had spent weeks searching for.
Cinderella Choso looked up slowly, his expression a mixture of caution and something softer—a quiet joy that flickered to life the moment his eyes met yours. A faint blush rose to his cheeks, his lips parting slightly in surprise as he instinctively ducked his head, his hand brushing nervously against the hem of his apron.
“Why... why is the prince here?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though confusion lingered in his tone, there was an unmistakable warmth in his gaze, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were standing before him.
You maintained your composure, though your chest tightened at the sight of him. Giving no sign that you recognized him, you said firmly, “I will personally check him,” standing from the couch with an air of authority.
Kenjaku’s eyes widened in alarm, but he quickly plastered a thin smile on his face. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Cinderella Choso’s blush deepened, his dark eyes darting between you and the knights before returning to you, lingering just a moment longer than before. His fingers twitched nervously, and he bit his lip, a flicker of shy delight breaking through his confusion.
You stepped closer, your gaze steady and unwavering as it met his. “Where is your room?” you asked, your voice calm but commanding.
“The... attic,” he replied hesitantly, his words faltering under the weight of the moment. His hand rose as if to gesture toward the stairs, but he paused, seeming momentarily flustered by your nearness.
“Lead the way,” you instructed, your tone firm but not unkind.
Cinderella Choso nodded, his movements tentative but obedient. His face was still tinged with a soft pink hue as he turned toward the staircase. There was something in the way he carried himself—a nervous energy paired with a quiet joy, as though he were both overwhelmed and thrilled to have you in his home.
You followed him, your heart pounding in your chest with every step as the narrow staircase creaked beneath your feet.
As you ascended the creaking staircase, the air between you grew heavier, laden with unspoken emotions and tension. The narrow space seemed to close in, your footsteps echoing softly behind him.
Cinderella Choso’s shoulders were tense, his fingers gripping the hem of his apron as if it were his lifeline. His head was slightly bowed, and his messy hair shifted with every step he took. You watched him closely, the faint blush still dusting his cheeks, the nervous sway in his movements unmistakable.
Breaking the silence, you spoke, your voice low but clear. “I hope you remember me.”
Cinderella Choso froze mid-step, his foot slipping slightly on the next stair. He let out a startled squeak, his hands flailing briefly before he caught himself against the bannister. “Y-yes!” he stammered, the word escaping his lips in a hurried rush. His voice cracked slightly, and his entire body seemed to jolt with embarrassment.
But he didn’t look back.
His ears were burning red now, the flush creeping down his neck as he straightened up and hurried the rest of the way. His steps were uneven, almost frantic, as though the very act of facing you might undo him completely.
You bit back a smile, watching him fumble, his shyness endearing in a way that only made your heart ache more for him.
The attic was dimly lit, with only a small window letting in a pale stream of light that softened the space. Despite its modest size, the room was neat and organized, every corner reflecting a quiet diligence. A small dressing table stood to the side, its surface polished clean, with a few simple trinkets placed meticulously. A wardrobe leaned against the wall, slightly worn but sturdy, and a collection of books was stacked neatly in one corner.
The bed, just barely large enough to accommodate Cinderella Choso's broad frame, was tucked under the window, a faded but clean rug beside it. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of the ash smudged on his cheek and the warmth of the space he'd made his own.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, it was as if the world fell away. All pretense dissolved in an instant. You stepped toward him, and he barely had time to process before your lips were on his, the kiss urgent and consuming.
Cinderella Choso froze for the briefest moment, his body stiffening. But then his hands found your waist, and he melted into you, a soft whimper escaping him. His touch held the same urgency as the night of the ball, trembling slightly, but the sheer need in him breaking through his shyness.
Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your fingertips. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, but they moved against yours with increasing desperation. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, as though you feared he might disappear again.
Together, you tumbled onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress as he fell back. The window's light framed his flushed face, his hair falling messily around him as his wide eyes met yours. His breaths were shallow, his chest rising and falling quickly, but his hands never left you, roaming across your back, your hips, your thighs, like he couldn’t bear to let go.
Breaking from the kiss, you hovered above him, your breath mingling with his as you stared into his wide, vulnerable eyes. “Why did you leave that night?” you asked, your voice trembling, not with anger, but with a deep, aching hurt. “I told you to stay.”
Cinderella Choso looked away, his cheeks flushed as if the memory stung him even now. His hands rested on your waist, his grip firm but gentle, grounding him. “I... I didn’t want to,” he admitted softly, his voice raw with regret. “But I didn’t have a choice. It was magic.”
Your brows furrowed, confusion flickering across your face. He hesitated for a moment, then continued, his words tumbling out nervously, as though he feared you wouldn’t believe him. “The fairy godmother gave me everything for one night—just until 3 a.m. After that, everything... everything would go back to the way it was. My clothes, my life, all of it. I had to leave before it all unraveled.”
His gaze flicked back to you, searching for your reaction, his face tinged with shame. “I didn’t want you to see me like that,” he whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.”
You studied him for a long moment, your hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint smudge of ash still there. “Believe me, I know,” you said, your voice laced with understanding, a sad smile tugging at your lips.
His brows knit in confusion, but you shook your head gently, your fingers tracing the soft line of his jaw. “That���s a story for later,” you said softly, leaning in to press another kiss to his lips. Whatever questions he had about your words or your curse could wait. Right now, you were here, together, and that was all that mattered.
Just like that your roaming hands were back on each other again. Cinderella Choso kissed you with more fervour than before. His lips frantically moved against yours. His tongue slipped inside, the soft muscle gliding and tangling with your tongue.
Your breathing grew shallower, and your heart thundered in your chest as Choso's soft, desperate whimpers filled the air. His hands fumbled at the buttons of your coat, trembling as he worked to undo them, his touch clumsy with need.
But you caught his wrists, stopping him in his tracks. “Uh-uh,” you said, your voice firm, though a teasing smile tugged at your lips. “I’m not letting what happened that night occur again. You went wild, Cho—You'll let me call you that, won't you? I’d like to leave this house walking on my own two legs if I can help it.”
His eyes widened, his face flushing a deep crimson as he sputtered, “I-I didn’t mean—”
You silenced him with a quick peck on his lips before reaching for a piece of cloth from his wardrobe. His confusion deepened as you looped the fabric around his wrists, tying them securely to the headboard.
“Wha—what are you doing?” he stammered, his voice trembling with equal parts apprehension and excitement.
You smirked, leaning close so your breath ghosted over his ear. “Maintaining some control over the situation this time,” you said, your tone playful yet commanding. “I think we both know you lose all sense of restraint when you’re left to your own devices.”
Cinderella Choso whimpered, his hands tugging weakly at the bindings as you straddled him. His eyes darted down to his maid outfit, and he seemed suddenly hyper-aware of the fabric against his skin.
Taking a moment, you leaned back slightly, your gaze trailing over him appreciatively. “You know,” you said, tilting your head as your lips curved into a grin, “You look really cute like this.”
His blush deepened, and he turned his head away shyly. “D-Don’t tease me...”
“Oh, I’m not teasing,” you replied, your fingers tracing the ruffled hem of his skirt. “We could do this from time to time—have you wear something like this again.”
Cinderella Choso’s wide eyes snapped back to yours, his lips parting in a silent gasp. His embarrassed whimper made you chuckle softly, leaning down to kiss him again, savoring the way he melted beneath you, utterly at your mercy.
You pulled at the knot of his apron, undoing the fabric. Your hand slid to the back of his neck, slowly unzipping the dress, and he shivered at the touch. You give him a sweet, soft smile but the look in your eyes betrayed what you were about to do next. His eyes grew wide with panic and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as he took in small breaths.
You quickly slip his dress off next and settle between his legs. His pretty white panties had a not so innocent wet spot that only grew larger in size the longer you looked at it. Choso lets out a small whine and your devilish gaze met his excited, wide-eyed stare.
"Wha—what are you going to do?" He stammered, and his eyes dart between your lips and the bulge in his panties that was peeking through the translucent fabric.
You grin even wider and chirp, "Exactly what you're thinking right now."
Choso gasps when you pull down his panties, and his hardened cock springs out. It looks exactly like you remembered it—big and smooth with a gorgeous pink tint that's redder at the head. The paintings didn't do justice, the real thing was much better.
You bring your hand up to touch his tip and he shivers. Choso was trying his best to stay still, anticipating what's to come. But when you softly kiss the tip of his cock, his entire body shudders. A loud, high-pitched moan escapes his lips when you sink down your mouth on his length as much as you could.
You use all your strength to tightly grip his thighs with both of your hands, forcing him to stay still while you bring your head up and then glide it back down, taking him deeper this time.
The head of his cock touches the back of your throat and you slightly gag. Your eyes glisten with tears, but you don't stop. You start bobbing your head up and down on his length, which elicits a series of strangled moans and gasps from choso.
Your lips slide up his length, a mix of your spit and his precum covering the shaft. You suck at his head, then hollow your cheeks and go back down. Your actions pick up their pace, head rapidly bobbing, adding to his building pleasure.
With a loud cry, choso cums. The warm liquid that filled your mouth was salty with a slight sweet taste. Your hand replaces your mouth, moving up and down, helping him ride out his high.
You look up at him. His eyes are tightly shut, mouth parted as his chest heaves with the deep breaths. As he calms down, his half-open lidded eyes meet yours. You sweetly smile at him and tease, "Did you like that?"
Choso turned his head to the side and tried to hide his face in his bound arms, flushing this time with embarrassment.
"Yes," he muttered in a small, shy voice.
He then asks, "Are you going to untie me now?"
You shake your head, a playful smile on your lips. "Nope. We're not done yet."
You sit up and start unbuttoning your clothes. Choso's eyes follow your every action as you slip out of your coat, your shirt, and then your pants. You're sitting above him, straddling him, with nothing but your underwear on. Choso's eyes seem too bulge out of his head, and his ears burn redder at your half-naked form, as if he hadn't already seen it before.
You take off your bra next and your breasts spill out. Choso's gaze is fixed on the sight, then trails down to your panties and the noticable wet patch on it. You pull them down, there's a lewd string of your slick connecting to the fabric. Choso gulps at the sight, his Adam's apple bobs on his throat.
"Would you like a taste, my sweet Cho?" You tilt your head and drawl while looking at him. He nods frantically at your words, whining desperately.
"You're so big baby, and as much as I love it, you'll have to loosen me up a little before I take you inside, yeah?" Choso blushes at your words and whimpers, "Ye-yes, please."
You rise and move up to his shoulders, placing your legs on each side and settle your pussy down on his face, careful not to smother him.
Choso moans softly as he eagerly starts licking at the slick dripping down on his tongue. His knuckles turn white the moment his bound hands grip the headboard tightly. His eyes are closed, face flushed like a plum, and his soft whines and groans fill the air, mixing with your moans of pleasure. He looks so obscenely gorgeous between your legs.
Choso's tongue laps at your folds. You reach down and push your fingers in your pussy, and start pumping them in and out in an attempt to stretch yourself out. Choso sucks and lightly bites at your clit and it sends jolts of electricity down your spine. Your back arches as you push yourself deeper to his mouth, the coil in your core ready to snap. You're close, so close.
Choso lets out a low groan, sending vibrations to your sensitive flesh. He's hard again, precum dripping from the slit. He bucks his hips up when he gives a harsh suck to your clit that sends you spiralling, waves after waves of pleasure washing over you as you hit your high. You get off him and collapse to the side, both of you panting side by side.
You don't waste another moment; getting up and aligning your warm, sensitive pussy with his dripping cock and sink down on him, overstimulation be damned. A loud whiny moan echoes in the room, coming from you or him you don't know.
Once you started bouncing on him, Choso felt as though every inch of his skin was alive, buzzing with a heat so powerful it left him dizzy. His mind felt hazy, thoughts muddled, unable to cling to any single thread of rationality. The pleasure overwhelmed him entirely, a thick fog of sensation clouding every rational thought, as if his brain were melting beneath the weight of it, leaving only pure, unfiltered bliss.
Your warm, tight, wet cunt gripping him like a vice felt like it was milking him dry. You lean back, your palms resting on his thighs behind you as you use all your strength to ride him. Your breasts bounce with every movement, and the view is so lewd for our poor baby Choso that he feels like he's gonna cum right then and there.
You through your head back, mouth open as you drool and pant above him. All that sword training paid off, because you couldn't possibly have lasted without all the built up stamina. Choso's loud moans and groans, mixed with your own, ring in your ears, adding to your lust and fueling you to go faster and harder.
Choso throws his head back into the pillow, hands holding the headboard in an iron-grip, as his biceps flex and abs tightens, and he cums hard. His ropey liquid filling you up, and you follow right after, still riding him through both your orgasms.
You pant hard, body slacking to the side, and you look at him while you try to catch your breath. Choso is a mess, tears and drool is dripping from the sides of his face. His jaw is slack, and his face, neck and chest is flushed red. Little sobs escape his lips along with the gasps.
You quickly move to untie the cloth around his hands and collapse on top of him. You hold him close as you pepper his face with kisses. "You okay, baby?" You ask in a soft voice. But just then, before you could react, Choso flips you over. He's looking down at you with the same crazed look in his eyes that he had the night of the ball. Fuck! You made a mistake untying him.
Choso pins both your wrists above your head with one hand, and grips one of your legs up with the other, before thrusting himself back into you. "Cho-choso!?" You call out, startled. His eyes are blown wide with a wild look in them, no coherent thought behind the gaze.
"M-more... more pl-please. Not enough... This is not enough... need more..." He babbles. So you weren't walking out of this house on your own after all. The pleasure he gave you that night was soul-crushingly good, and you loved every moment of it. As much as you want it again right now, there's an entire knight squad waiting for you downstairs, dammit.
He holds you down while ramming his cock deep inside with full strength. His thrusts get meaner with each stroke, pumping pleasure out of you. He leans down, shoving his tongue in your slack mouth, swallowing all your moans. Oh fuck it! The knights can wait.
Each pulse of pleasure that rolled through you felt like a wave of heat, washing away any coherent thought. Your body trembled, each nerve alive, and your mind seemed to blur, its sharp edges softening into nothingness. Every sensation was amplified, the euphoria so intense that it felt like your very mind was being devoured by the pleasure, each wave more intoxicating than the last.
Choso didn’t stop, not until both of you were exhausted and sticky with sweat and cum that came from all the countless orgasms, the intensity of the moment lingering in the air between you. His movements were relentless, driven by an overwhelming need, and each time you thought he might slow down, he only pushed forward.
It was like that night all over again. You drifted in and out of the haze clouding you with each mind numbing high. The sun was setting when you both finally stopped, the golden light spilling through the window and casting a warm glow over everything. The room, once filled with the erratic energy, now felt quiet, the fading daylight creating a peaceful contrast to the intensity that had come before.
Choso was sleeping peacefully on top of you, his soft breaths rising and falling gently against your chest. His weight, comforting and familiar, made your heart swell with adoration. You watched him, his face serene in sleep, so different from his earlier untamed frenzy, and a wave of tenderness washed over you as you held him closer, not wanting to move, wanting to cherish the moment forever.
In the following days, the kingdom buzzed with excitement, preparations for the royal marriage taking center stage. The streets were filled with banners and flowers, and the air was thick with anticipation. Cinderella Choso, now at your side, was treated with the same reverence as any princess, though his gentle nature remained unchanged. You spent your days together, savoring the quiet moments, laughing, and talking about the future; and with his cock buried deep inside you when no one was around.
The royal wedding was a grand affair, a celebration of not just your union, but the love that had brought you both together. As the days passed, you realized that the magic and curse had only led you to something far greater than you could have imagined.
And so, with Choso by your side, you lived happily ever after, finding a peace that had once seemed impossible.
---
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Waffles for breakfast
Pairing/AU: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak so flour is safe in this one lol
Words counts: 1141
Rating: +16? (just a little tiny smut 👀)
Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina, no other description is given, established relationship, a huge amount of fluff, mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v (do better irl!), joel cooks (i feel like this needs its own tag 😂)
A/N: another thing I wrote a year ago, revised and corrected. I hope there are no mistakes but if there are please, forgive me.
Enjoy the Sunday fluff my lovely friends, hope you’ll like it and you’ll have a really nice day♥️
Tagging: @baronessvonglitter , @aurorawritestoescape, @milla-frenchy and @bean-is-reading just to say thanks for your encouragement, kindness and support, you all are great and deserve the world 😭♥️
Thanks to anyone who reads this!
Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️
“Joel”
“What”
“Leave it alone, there's no need for you to do it”
“I’m doing great!”
“Okay”
You are observing a batter that is too liquid and full of lumps.
Joel got into his head to prepare breakfast this morning, perhaps because last night you ironically commented on his total inability to cook something vaguely edible.
“Let me finish, you'll see you'll like them”
He got into his head to make you waffles.
Him.
The one who burns everything he tries to cook, the one who holds a neat pile of takeaway flyers near the phone.
His idea of fine cuisine is fried chicken wings or pepperoni pizza with olives.
You tried to make him forget that he promised you, you tried very hard.
This morning you woke up first, slipped over to his side of the bed and hugged him, clinging to his back and encircling his waist with one arm.
You intertwined your legs with his to get as close as possible and slid your hand under his shirt caressing his tummy, leaving little kisses on his wide back through the shirt.
Your hand made its way into his boxers to reach his sex and you gently stroked it until you felt it get hard.
He made a grunt as he woke up and put his big hand on yours, continuing to massage.
You surrounded the base with your fingers, slowly going up to the tip, stroking his cock.
Slowly.
He made a deep, hoarse moan.
He turned to look at you and held you close, lowered a hand on your sex and massaged you in turn.
You took back his shaft in your hand and you both continued like this, caressing each other, looking at each other smiling, until everything became too hot and blurry.
You undressed in an instant, throwing everything on the floor.
You rode him the way he likes it, your hands resting on his broad chest while he held you firmly by your hips. He always says he loves seeing you like this and he loves your tits bounce before his eyes.
You lay on him exhausted, totally satisfied, he hugged you tightly.
“God baby, you're amazing”
He kept you like this for what seemed like an endless time and anyway you wish it never ended.
He kissed your forehead and nose and whispered “well, good morning I guess”.
You giggled then kissed that little patch in his beard that you adore “Good morning, Joel”.
You thought he'd forget by then and never get up.
Joel, however, is a man who keeps his promises.
He is a stubborn man, above all, when he gets something in his head, nothing stops him. Whether it's small or big doesn't matter.
And he would do anything when he cares about a person.
He got up and you saw him disappear in the bathroom.
You wanted to follow to continue distracting him but you knew that it would be useless anyway so you decided to enjoy the warmth of the bed for a while longer, wrapped in his scent on the sheets and pillow.
You heard the shower water flowing and after a few minutes he came out with a towel around his waist, a few drops of water still on his skin, chest, shoulders, wet hair pulled back.
A breathtaking view.
You would have liked to drag him back to bed but he headed to the closet, pulled out a clean t-shirt, boxer briefs and a pair of sweatpants.
He got dressed and said, “stay in bed, babe, I'll make you breakfast” with a smile so sweet and enthusiastic that it melted your heart.
You didn't have the courage to say no to him, and now you're here, watching him energetically turn a spoon into the bowl and try to remove the lumps from a too liquid blob. You wonder how he was able to make it liquid but at the same time lumpy.
You smile, looking at how he's trying.
“Joel, please. There are frozen pancakes in the freezer.”
“Absolutely not, it's Sunday, I won't let you eat frozen stuff”
And you laugh thinking that he would like to give you that thing that he is furiously stirring instead.
It looks like glue.
You stop protesting, because you see how tenderly he looks at you, you see how convinced he is as he pulls out the waffle iron and lets it warm up.
In the meantime, the batter has thickened a bit but it remains full of lumps.
You offer to set the table, but he doesn't want you to do that either.
“Today you have to relax, I'll take care of you”
You stay on your stool, with your elbows leaning against the island counter looking at him and remaining silent, enjoying the sight of his arms delightfully embraced by his t-shirt.
He puts two placemats on the counter, two plates, cutlery and glasses.
He takes the orange juice out of the fridge.
Pour a little batter on the iron, close and wait with a satisfied smile.
What he puts on your plate it’s the ugliest waffle you've ever seen but you don't have the heart to tell him.
Not when he seems so proud and convinced of his work.
After all, what does it cost you to taste?
You hope you won't need to call 911.
You chew slowly, tasting a strange flavor, but you don't say anything.
He looks at you in expectation.
“So, how is it?”
“Good” you try to say, but you don't know how to swallow the bite.
It's weird, gummy, incredibly salty.
You keep chewing while he takes a bite too.
He chews for a few seconds and then roll his eyes and bend over the sink spitting.
“My God it’s horrible! Don't eat it!”
At his surrender, you can no longer resist and you also spit in the sink and then turn on the garbage disposal hoping that that horrible thing will disappear forever.
You laugh, you laugh so much that tears come to your eyes while he looks so sorry.
“I think I put salt instead of sugar in it” he murmurs.
You keep laughing, as you approach to hug him “how much did you put in, a whole jar?”
“Fuck” he rolls his eyes, looking frustrated.
“Babe, it doesn't matter, really”
You squeeze him as much as you can, he put his chin on your shoulder “I’m sorry, I wanted to do something nice”
“Don't worry, you tried” you stroke the back of his neck trying to comfort him “I appreciate it anyway”
His strong arms surround your waist and you wouldn't want to change him with anything in the world.
You look him in the eyes “I love you”
“Damn I guess that's true, considering the crap I just made”
And he laughs too, finally relaxed.
“I love you too”
And he kisses you.
After all, breakfast is not that important.
#joel miller x afab!reader#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller fluff#joel miller au#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#joel the last of us#joel tlou#pedro pascal characters
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Okay, you anon on my inbox,
you said that some followers of mine have been disappointed in me for partaking in the tsams harassment document, since I am a creator a lot of people look up to. I am not answering the ask itself because it has a blog mentioned, but I will answer your worries about the situation the best I can.
I am not going to talk about the drama itself since I have retained myself from discussing and spinning things any further about the situation.
But those of you who are mad at me for being part of the document; please at least read my part of it, if you haven't already.
The document was made as an archive for the victims of that hate blog (biased-tsams-confessions). Every screenshotted post on the document is available publicly, and all I did was allow my content and posts about the situation to be used in the document.
I was an unnecessary victim of the hate blog. Had no one name-dropped me in that blog and caused me to get anons and not-anons harass me and claim that I was one of the people sending minors gore, I would not have needed to publicly talk about anything relating to the drama. I would not be in the document if I wasn't a victim of being wrongly assumed to support NSFW being sent to minors. Which is a heavy allegation.
The document is not about the gore anon victims. It's about the victims of the witch hunt that people caused by starting to blame innocent people for being or supporting the gore anons.
I am not asking myself to be removed from the document. I am there as a victim. The other people in the document, as well as their actions, have nothing to do with me, or my part in this, other than them being my friends/mutuals in the fandom, and victims of the same hate blog and witch hunt. If some of them have answered or reacted aggressively to something regarding the situation, it is on them. It is not my job to decide what my friends/mutuals are allowed to answer or do.
During this whole time, I have kept saying over and over that people should just block and move on and ignore and not vague about each other, but I cannot control other people besides myself.
I do not support harassment of any kind. But I am also not going to be silent for being a victim. Even if I was just a small misstep for the hate blog, I was still targeted because of them. I was truly ready to just forgive them and put it all behind me, if their reply to my request to apologise to me publicly hadn’t been so aggressive, and they hadn’t targeted another innocent person later (Z). The mod responding to my dm said I was manipulating them, and that they didn't believe me. So their posted apology wasn't genuine, it was just them trying to save themselves from me exposing them.
If you think I should've not allowed my posts to be part of the document then I want to ask you this:
Should a victim be quiet about being harassed just because the other harassed people have said or done something you disagree with?
Again, what I had to deal with was very small compared to some of the other people the hate blog targeted, but even a small victim is a victim if they gained harm from it.
As what comes to the document: I did not write it, nor did I read it until it was publicly shared. All I did was give my permission to use my posts in it.
I was aware that the doc included names of the people who have also participated in or supported the harassment by the hate blog or shattered.
I did not find the list of supporters necessary to include, and I told the others this. The list has recently been removed by the owner of the document after new information has come to light. I know this will not erase the fact the names were there.
I am not making statements about the harassment supporters mentioned in the doc, because I am not going to dig up if they should be there or not. I have spent too much time on this drama publicly already, when all I wanted to do was ignore it and let my friends vent their frustration to me privately if needed.
Despite the situation being what it is, I have wanted to stay neutral in it, besides the hate blog which is the sole reason I had to pipe up in the first place. I have been keeping my stance neutral between the two groups. I have not blocked anyone from either side (except the hate blog), and I have no hard feelings towards my friends, or my followers who are disagreeing with each other.
If you want me to apologise for being part of the document, I'm sorry but I can't. It's the same as saying "I'm sorry I talked about being harassed."
If you still feel like you're personally affected by my involvement in this, or you are a follower of mine getting harassed because of this document, please DM me and I'll try to help you out the best I can.
The blogs mentioned in the document have not been actively harassing me, and those who did take part in smearing my name I will not name, because I genuinely think they realised their mistake (unlike the hate blog) and understood that I have nothing to do with the gore anons nor do I believe they were a hoax.
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Impossible
Pairing: Sihtric x reader x Finan ✩࿐
⋆。˚☾⋆。𖦹 °✩ wc: 5.9k
note: I'm sensing a pattern arising where the reader is related to Uhtred in my writing pffft I just love it lol. this fic is a bit shameless of me tbh, consider Sihtric and Finan to be your mindless Kens in this.
summary: Sihtric and Finan do not take kindly to your attitude after they catch you with another warrior, leading to a night filled with confession and obsession. ✧˖°
MDNI! 18+ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・TW!: mentions of potential assault, period-typical misogyny, mentions of blood, pining, F/M/M, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight domination etc
You had been resting all day, abandoning any duties that had been bestowed on you by Beocca or the others. Osferth had been with you for a while, but had run as soon as he saw some of your lady friends approaching, fearing that they would hassle him. Though he was sweet, he was incredibly oblivious, a trait that had gotten him into serious trouble - and by default, you too.
It was always you that seemed to be involved in some kind of dilemma, Uhtred's sister, clumsy and short-tempered. You always likened yourself more to Brida, wanting to follow in her wild, mildly assaulting ways with people. Ragnar cherished you, but always decided that Uhtred would be able to keep you safer, as he had a mixed band of trustworthy individuals.
You wandered in the nearby woods, collecting random flowers that interested you and occasionally stuffing them in-between the threading of your dress, which by now was soaked with a layer of mud from the terrain beneath your feet. Thyra had warned you not to arrive back too late. You knew that you shouldn't be too long, not on your own like this, but for now, everything in Uhtred's world seemed remarkably peaceful. For someone who liked to play with Alfred's commands, this was a miracle.
You revelled in your own company for a little longer, feeling your heart stop when your peace was finally disturbed by hooves. Before you turned around, you feared the worst, that it was some enemy of Uhtred's come to claim you and sell you for ransom. Fingertips going cold, you rested your thumb on the hiding place that you usually kept a small blade in, feeling its absence and cursing wildly.
Shit.
"And why do I find you out here all alone, lady?" you vaguely recognised the voice to be Gudrun, one of your brother's warriors and somewhat of a childhood acquaintance. You turned swiftly, to find the man looking down at you from his horse. He was handsome in his own right - but you had often seen him night after night sitting with a cup of ale, and whatever company he could find for the night. You did not blame him, finding yourself at the mercy of ale from time to time, but wondered why he squandered his talents on such wasteful hobbies so often.
"Please don't let me stop you on your journey Gudrun, I wouldn't want to slow you down," you began to dismiss him somewhat, feeling a fool for straying so far from the village with so little to protect you. You knew he was one of Uhtred's men, but the company of men was a tumultuous one.
"Not at all, Y/N. In fact, I can think of no better way for my journey to be disturbed," he smiled rather darkly, a tone of strange flirtation in his voice. You assumed he was harmless, relaxing a little as you accepted his compliment. You wanted Uhtred to come behind him at any moment to protect you, but he had his own children and wife to worry about now, so you were forced to remain.
"That's too kind, Gudrun, where are you headed?"
"To Lunden, just on some small duty. It's nothing serious. You should accompany me, lady."
You grimaced at that, knowing what had occurred at Lunden not too long ago. Gudrun seemed pleased at your discomfort. You felt bad for characterising him as a brute, wanting to remain pleasant to him, but you had observed how he was with his women before, often leaving them bruised and in need of comfort.
You politely refuse, wanting to be done with the situation, but then he dismounts from his horse, the poor thing jolting slightly. You watched the animal relax, returning your gaze to the much taller man who now hovered above you, blonde hair cascading in layered pieces around his face.
You stood your ground when he spoke. "Are you sure, pretty? I would not want to leave you out here alone, where any man could claim you for his own," he whispered, forehead practically touching yours as he took a few steps closer. You didn't like what he was saying, cheeks burning with his words, feeling your own brows furrowing. You were perfectly capable of defending yourself, or at least you thought you were.
Uhtred's best men and your closest friends, Sihtric and Finan, spent hours with you teaching you basic movements of defence, and when you were in the company of Brida and Ragnar, which wasn't often, you often challenged them to silly fights that you had occasionally won.
You didn't think before you shouted at him, "have the weight of your disgusting balls dragged your brain down with them? Or did you not hear what I said?"
You realised all too late that you had escalated the situation, watching the surprise on his face grow into anger, stalking backwards as you realised Gudrun's intentions may not have been as pure as you once thought. You didn't want to cause Uhtred any more unnecessary problems or create new tensions, but the way Gudrun was now staring at you reminded you that you were truly at his mercy.
"Those are such vulgar words for a lady like you, Y/N. I could have your tongue for that, but I can think of a better use for it first," he grinned, closing in on you. Your back quickly hit a tree, and you felt an immediate flush of nervousness. Nevertheless, it quickly subsided, and you allowed yourself a moment to breathe, readying your next words carefully.
"What would your mother think of the way you speak?" you were quick to spit in his face, acutely aware of the danger you were putting yourself in, but strangely loving it, "have the women around you not civilised you? Not taught you manners? Or were you raised by wretched wolves?"
Slipping away from under him and past the tree, you had expected to make somewhat of a swift escape, but Gudrun grabbed you before you could even think, his entire hand encircling your arm, squeezing until you felt yourself going cold, a tear making its way down your cheek.
"So stubborn for such a pestilent whore," he returned the favour, spitting onto your cheek as he bared his teeth at you, almost growling, "so stupid. I was taught how to treat a woman, and I will show you-"
Before he could continue, the scene was disturbed by more galloping, and the unsheathing of a sword. You recognised the voice that you heard next to be Finan's, and you resented it.
"Gudrun, what the hell do you think you're doing? Is this what you call being a warrior?" He shouted, immediately dismounting from his horse, sword in hand. He looked at you, eyes swimming in concern for you, which you returned with a scowl. You hated that he had come to your aid, and what was worse, you could see Sihtric coming towards the three of you as well.
Normally, you would be happy to see the two of them, but not on this occasion. The three of you had become incredibly close as things had settled down. Before, they had always seemed too busy, but over the year they had sought your company more and more. But their attention meant a watchful eye was always on you. As Uhtred built his family, you thought you had escaped your scoldings, but to no avail, the two of them always had something to say.
And now they were saving you. As they always seemed to do when you were in trouble. It infuriated you; feeling so inferior to the both of them, hating the way they coddled you as though you were some sort of child. You wanted them to see you as a woman. The whole situation made you act in a way you weren't entirely proud of.
"Finan just leave this, I can handle myself," you yelled, feeling shame run through you as Gudrun still gripped you tightly, not allowing you to go anywhere as you pulled and thrashed, practically kicking him. You wanted to literally sink into the ground when you felt Finan's eyes on you. He stood in all his seriousness, but knowing that he would win this altercation with Gudrun, there was also a hint of amusement.
"I'd listen to the lady, Finan, just leave me with her tits and I'll be finished."
Sihtric, who until now had been quiet, looked at you disapprovingly, which only spurred you on further. You loved him at the best of times, but the feeling of inferiority was eating you alive. You kicked and scratched, watching as Gudrun's sword went from pointing to Finan to pointing at you, its sharp end slightly piercing your arm.
"You bastard!" you practically screamed, but it fell on deaf ears. Sihtric, always careful, stepped slowly to your left, as Finan moved to your right, dominating Gudrun's line of sight.
"Go on, Gudrun, go to Lunden, spend all your money on women as you always do, forget this one," Sihtric taunted, rendering your own words invisible as you saw how Gudrun reacted. It seemed as though you had lost your voice. You huffed, wriggling further in his grip, which caused his sword to pierce you even more, drawing blood.
Finan tutted, looking over the both of you to Sihtric, as though they shared an invisible sort of signal that had you torn from Gudrun in seconds. Now you felt yourself in Sihtric's arms, binding you to him. Finan wasted no time, stabbing Gudrun's leg, leaving him there. He whispered something in Gudrun's ear, most likely a warning not to come back , which you thought was wise.
Just as quickly as he had finished with Gudrun, Finan stormed over to you and Sihtric. You hated to admit that Sihtric's grip was warm and welcome, and relief had you practically melting into him, but you knew what was to come.
"How I've missed your childish insolence," Finan remarked, smiling despite your very obvious scowl. Sihtric, however, was more serious, tending to your arm as blood seemed to pour from it endlessly. "You were naive to think you could take him, Y/N, you should not have further endangered yourself." He was quiet, raising a cloth to your wound, pursing his lips as the fabric quickly soaked into a dark mess.
"I had no choice, what would you have me do? Let him take me right then and there?" you knew you were digging yourself a deeper hole, ripping your arm from Sihtric's grasp, letting the cloth he had been holding fall to the floor.
"You know what Sihtric means. You shouldn't have to reason with him, I know, let's just be glad the prick is passed out." Finan kicked the unconscious body of Gudrun, which rocked, but did not muster. Finan looked at you, sensing frustration. He understood you, that you had been placed in an impossible situation, but they had truly only wanted to help you.
The three of you had briefly explained to Uhtred why he would be missing a man from now on, and with that you avoided Sihtric and Finan like the plague for over a week, much to their mutual dismay.
Both Sihtric and Finan sat on a table outside of the ale house, Osferth off somewhere training whilst Uhtred had gone to help Gisela with the children. Left to their own conversation, which was usually a blessing to the both of them, they began to talk about you.
You who hadn't been seen leaving your own home in days other than to bathe or eat. You who used to wander so recklessly, spending days in fields and forests with whoever you could get to join you.
They missed you pestering them with silly questions of battle and fighting, how you observed them with awe when they told stories of their lives before they had met you. Your innocent eyes no longer lit up in front of them, bringing them a pure sense of life after days of death and destruction.
"I must have left my mind on the battlefield," Finan muttered, Sihtric responding with a quiet grin as he sipped on ale. He knew what Finan was saying; the two of them had gained somewhat of an understanding over the past few days, realising that they both had feelings for you.
"Just what the world needs," Sihtric responded, looking at Finan, "two men in love with the same woman who speaks to neither of them." They both chuckled, refusing to let such a thing come between them.
"Something needs to be done, we can't just sit here like miserable bastards." Finan spoke, giving Sihtric a knowing glance. Sihtric scowled as he usually did, wanting to act entirely irrationally but holding himself back for the sake of everyone in the village.
As if their prayers had been answered, you came stumbling out of your home not even seconds later, in full view of the ale house and the two men you sought. Sihtric and Finan, you mentally scoffed.
Your frustration had been brewing for an entire week now. How embarrassed you had been at your outburst, and at your rejection of Finan's help and Sihtric's aid. You were equally as furious at the constant prominence of men in your life. They were everywhere all at once, consuming you, believing they could take whatever they wanted from you.
But what was even more sickly was that you missed your two friends dearly. Playing stupid games of stones with Finan who laughed at the most utterly unfunny things, and Sihtric, ever the affectionate friend, always one step ahead to ensure your safety. You felt like a fool for not realising that you liked them. You really liked them.
You set your sights on the hall and the ale house, where you knew they would surely be, stomping over as if it were your birthright. Once you saw the two of them sitting outside, you recognised their smiles. Wanting to make that short lived, you struck the back of their heads at the same time, plonking down onto the bench nearest to them.
"Y/N-" Sihtric began, but you held up a finger in his face, wagging it infuriatingly.
"No. You must listen to me. I am thankful for what you did to help me with Gudrun, and I'm sorry I haven't reacted as though I were. I was merely upset that a man felt he could do such a thing to me, and that I couldn't do anything about it without help," you didn't even manage a breath as you continued, "I just don't want to be seen as some kind of incompetent fool that needs to be saved. And what makes it worse is that I wanted to teach you both a lesson by being independent, you slugs!'
"Y/N, breathe." Finan chastised, causing your eyes to widen.
"Shut up and let me finish!" you stomped your foot, aggravated by his pretty smile and the way he seemed to unconsciously reach for the hem of your dress to play with. Sihtric also amused you for a second, his expression one of deadly seriousness as he listened to you intently.
"There's more I could say, but I just think I'd rather we go back to normal," you huffed, slightly annoyed at their downcast expressions, "and against all of my judgements about men, I've found myself pining pathetically for the both of you."
"Well, sorry for inconveniencing you so much, lady." Finan smiled, simply thankful that you were back on speaking terms with them. Your anger sat well within him though, and they didn't want to take advantage of the moment, not when your point was very much valid.
"We will teach you to be a great warrior, Y/N," Sihtric smirked rather proudly, punching your arm, to which you responded with a slap and a request for ale. Looking down at your hands, you briefly missed the longing look that the two men gave you.
Another week had passed, and the two men still hadn't confessed to you of their true affections, but the three of you understood that there had been some sort of shift in your relationship. Uhtred had been called to and from King Alfred's company once or twice, leaving you absent of your friends for a few days.
This didn't bother you at all, in fact, you were somewhat relieved from the break. Gisela kept you busy, with walking and games that Beocca had gifted her, you had even swum once or twice with her, entirely free and content. But when she took up her motherly duties, you were free to roam as you pleased, ignoring all civilisation as you wandered further and further from the village.
It was hours later that you returned, feeling anything but fresh, with some cuts and bruises from when you had decided to climb up a tree to take an hour's rest. Much to your dismay, you were not very good at climbing trees.
You hadn't even been entirely sure where your brother and the others had been sent to, as they were constantly marching north and south for some reason, but you had not expected to see them all gathered in the centre of the village walls when you returned from your own rough excursion.
Uhtred ran to you, picking you up in a forceful hug, laughing at your state. "I see you do not know how to stay out of trouble, Y/N. You limp like a fat man!" His shining eyes were somehow swimming with both excitement and exhaustion, and you returned his affections, realising he most likely needed them.
"I see things went your way this time, Uhtred." you let him hug you for just a little longer, sensing he must have faced great struggle to be so affectionate towards you. "How was everything?"
"Fine, sister, fine. I faced nothing quite as fearsome as you." Uhtred allowed his fondness for you to take over him for a moment, glad to be reminded of home and family. You rolled your eyes, patting his shoulder and letting him return to his children.
The air caught in your throat when you finally saw both Sihtric and Finan, talking casually with a few other warriors in the corner. They were dirty, even bloody, furs and capes draped over their enormous frames, sharp faces laughing as they were finally free from duties for a little while longer.
Finan spotted you first, a smile growing on his face as his arms opened warmly to greet you. He had removed the straps clinging to him, so that his sword fell to the floor. You walked slowly towards them, head tilted to the side when you welcomed Finan's embrace, not wanting to say too much as you felt his grip tighten.
You opened your scrunched eyes briefly to see Sihtric next to the two of you, placing a gloved hand on your head, patting it slightly. You blushed at the way he looked at you, realising you had been staring slightly too long, and that Finan had been hugging you for a while now, chin resting on your head.
Finan took you in, your once clean dress swimming in mud and loose leaves. Your braids unravelling slowly, a tad of mud on your face. You looked like you had gone on the journey with them. But, as he stared into your wide eyes, he thought that you had never looked more beautiful.
"I missed the two of you," you finally spoke, words hanging in the air. Sihtric looked down, grabbing your hand and holding tightly. Finan busied himself by fiddling with your braid.
"We missed you. I swear I saw Sihtric cryin' at one point, poor rat was devastated to leave our weakness." Though he spoke in an amusing manner, his eyebrows remained firm, and his smile did not last. The tension was ripe.
"Hey, Finan was the one telling all the men about you. Uhtred nearly had to send him away," the Dane responded, lightening the tone, but confusing you even more. They had been talking about you as their weakness, missing you, and now they couldn't stop touching you in some small form. Why didn't they just do something?
You knew they were polite men in their own regard, and that it would be up to you to initiate something. But what you didn't know, is that once you did, there would never be any going back. The two men wanted you so desperately; they had been discussing logistically how two men could share one woman forever, and had come to the conclusion that they simply just would. Now they were bursting at the seams waiting for you to say you wanted it too. They needed your confirmation.
"You should both come to my home," you said to them, shuffling your feet in the direction of your house. Gisela had taught you a little something about seduction whilst the men had been away, and you wanted to be the one in control of the situation. For now, at least. "For food, I mean. And drink."
"I never knew you could be such a kind hostess, Y/N." Finan said, pulling Sihtric towards him. You scoffed, squinting your eyes at him which caused him to stick out his tongue, a slight chuckle from Sihtric.
They had been to your house plenty of times, even staying over sometimes with Osferth or even Uhtred when they wanted peace and quiet. But this time, something in the pit of your stomach told you it was going to be different. You trotted quickly as they prowled behind you, already knowing the way themselves.
You felt their eyes burning holes into the back of your head as you stood at your door, the two me hovering over you, heads above you. You fumbled a little with the door, sighing in frustration.
"Take your time." mumbled Sihtric, surprising you slightly. Your face burnt like molten lava, and you refused to look at them. The two men gave each other a knowing look, a sense of unfinished business hovering in the air.
Sihtric's words affected you more than you had realised, his soft, deep voice reverberating in your head. You felt a hand on your shoulder, unaware as to which of the men it belonged to, and before you could control your reaction, a minuscule whimper came shooting out of your mouth.
Thankfully, you managed to regain consciousness for the moment and opened the door, ignoring any consequences of the sickly noise you had just let out. Little did you know, the noise had stirred Finan's cock, and Sihtric had had to take a deep breath to control himself, nostrils flaring.
You were teasing them, and you had no idea. Soon realising you had actually promised them food, you decided to make good on that, telling them to sit down, where some meats and a little fruit and bread were waiting. You took a moment to breathe, unable to focus on anything but their figures as they passed you and made a point of touching you as they did.
After some normal chatter, you realised that they weren't eating. At first you thought the food you had brought to them was sour, but upon further inspection of them, you began to fidget in your seat. They were practically ogling you, Finan's eyes carrying a sort of apologetic lust, whilst Sihtric gazed at you as though he was drunk.
A shiver ran down your spine, which caused you to fidget even more, hands picking at your dress. This movement did not go unnoticed by Sihtric, who took this as the perfect opportunity to initiate what you were all clearly thinking,
"You are cold, Y/N, you should come closer," his lips parted, and he truly felt in this moment that the Gods had gifted him with some kind of angel, as you stared open-eyed at him. He felt himself getting impatient, reaching out to you with an open palm when you stood hesitantly, like some sort of animal trapped between wolves.
Finan seemed to enjoy this, stretching back into the chair as you made your way to Sihtric, accepting his hand, not entirely sure on what to do next. After a moment of lingering, Finan answered your prayers with a simple "Sit, Y/N."
Sihtric groaned when you finally placed yourself in his lap, staring into his dual-toned eyes, unable to keep his intimidating gaze for longer than a second. Though you knew in reality he was a sweetheart, in this moment, he seemed dangerous.
Before you could lower your chin, Sihtric gripped it with his rough fingers, forcing you back up to face him, his other hand sliding down to your backside. He did nothing for a moment, each movement incredibly slow.
Other than the crackling fire in the corner of the seating area, all was silent. You realised your braids had unravelled entirely now, wild hair hanging loosely around your face. You hadn't realised how close Finan was until you saw him behind you, standing above you and Sihtric, a tight grip on your loose hair forcing your face even higher. The way he looked down at you, eyebrows furrowing and seemingly glazed with lust, you almost couldn't take it.
"She likes this," Finan muttered, Sihtric humming in agreement. You gasped when the iron grip tightened, forgetting that you were in the presence of two of the greatest warriors in the realm. It turned you on to no end.
Sihtric took advantage of your open mouth, sliding a finger inside, the others holding your chin still. You sucked on the digit rather insatiably, to your own embarrassment, unable to be satisfied until it was soaked and you yourself were drooling onto his trousers. But just as the moment was getting good, as they always did, they found a way to chastise you.
This had been a long, long time coming.
"You must never ignore us like that again, lady," Finan said, "I mean, could you not have just spoken to us? I imagine that would have been a whole lot easier."
The patronising tone had you feeling mildly embarrassed, but the sickly sort of degradation came with sweet caresses, so you managed to forget your pride for a moment.
Instead, despite the grip in your hair and the fingers in your mouth, you nodded, moaning profusely as your eyes rolled back when Sihtric forced another finger in.
"I'd ask for a verbal answer, angel, but I see that probably won't happen." he observed sarcastically, finally loosening his hold for just a moment, your head lolling to the side, wanting to be closer to the both of them. You were rather ashamed of the mess they had turned you into in a matter of minutes.
The feigned sympathy on Sihtric's face was infuriatingly attractive, so much so that you found it within yourself to quickly nip his fingers as he was removing them from your mouth, earning a genuine smile and a strike to the thigh, which was now exposed as your dress had bunched up.
"We own you now, Y/N," Sihtric finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, "We both own you. You are our woman to love." That was all the confirmation you needed.
As quickly as you could possibly manage, you were kissing Sihtric, barely remembering to breather as you moved rhythmically on his lap, lips disconnecting and soon returning to a forceful kiss with Finan. You were beside yourself, wild like some kind of animal as you felt Sihtric on your neck and Finan on your lips.
It was all too much, and the feeling in your arms seemed to give way, not helping your case as you began to push the both of them.
"What do you need, love?" Sihtric asked, entirely ready to give you everything you needed. If only you could find the words. You didn't answer as Finan worked some sort of sorcery on your neck, sucking and biting just where you felt the most sensitive. "I should not have to ask again."
Sihtric's eye contact became so strong that you immediately cowered, any snide comments you had exiting your brain for the moment.
"Please, please just do something, take me," you panted, Finan's subtle laughter doing nothing to stop your whining. With that, you were transferred into Finan's arms as Sihtric rose, removing unnecessary leathers and protection, leaving himself only in his tunic. Meanwhile, Finan so gracefully laid you down on the bed of furs, your head leaning against the headboard.
"My lady," he half joked, quick to join Sihtric in the removal of his clothing. You followed their lead, untying the laces at the back of your dress with great effort before letting it slide off, kicking it to the ground.
"God," Finan stood staring at you, at your breasts, watching as your skin reacted harshly to the cold. You were drowning in the furs around you, your naked body like some sort of holy piece that priests would surely covet. Sihtric was by your side in seconds, bare chest colliding with your own skin, ecstasy rushing through you.
"we shall have to keep you like this forever, lady." Sihtric wasted no time in fulfilling your pleas, fingers inside of you before you could react, so filling and long, reaching every crevice inside of you. The welcome intrusion was heightened by Finan's body on your other side, playing with your clit, rubbing over and over until the stimulation became unbearable.
A void inside of you had been entirely filled, and your two friends were now wrapping you slowly around their fingers. A part of you wondered what Uhtred would think, whether he would welcome the strange union or dismiss it altogether, but there was no time for that, not when Sihtric was pumping into you, whilst Finan methodically worked his fingers, making you scream.
"Poor thing," Finan drawled out, watching your trembling frame as if it was pure entertainment. "Should we give you what you want? I think we should." Without consulting you, he simply looked at Sihtric, who seemed to have different ideas.
"I don't think she deserves it, I think that temper needs to be controlled a little more." You flinched as his fingers curled inside of you. Finan gave you an apologetic glance, and you couldn't believe he was listening to Sihtric in this moment . . .
"But!-"
"No," Sihtric mumbled, and Finan saved himself from your glare by hiding his face in the crook of your neck, his finger's methodical patterns becoming slower and slower, delaying your release. You were becoming numb at this point.
"Perhaps things could change if you told us who you belonged to?"
You grunted as you were kept on the edge, feeling constant resistance, and unable to admit your feelings. That was until Finan pinched your clit, and Sihtric slapped your inner thigh, rubbing the red skin as he worked himself in and out of you slowly.
"mmfph"
"Who?"
"Sihtric," you breathed, "And Finan."
"Good," Finan moved now, quickening his pace on the outside whilst Sihtric also followed through on his promise, "good girl".
That was all you needed, the praise making your chest blister and ache. It was intoxicating, being able to come entirely undone beneath the two men, feeling them observe you, kiss you, worship you.
"Our turn now."
One of them mumbled. You weren't entirely sure, blinded by your orgasm, feeling muscles in your thighs twitch as your back arched off of the bed. Before you could even come down, You were flipped onto your stomach. The action was nothing to the two men, so strong they could barely feel the effect they had on you. They made you feel weightless.
Finan couldn't help himself, gripping your ass so tightly you felt like it would bruise. The skin ached when he gave it a small pinch, enjoying your jolt into Sihtric as he kneeled close to your face, petting your hair as he often did, except never in this context.
A kiss to your forehead drew you back into consciousness for the moment, but it did nothing to distract you from Finan's actions behind, his cock now trailing up and down your sex, an agitated grunt coming from the Irishman.
"Good god," Finan muttered, no longer uttering some quip or joke, instead relishing in the feeling of the both of you two against one another. Your softness did something to him, tore deep inside of him; a man so consumed with life of battle did not deserve something so pure, he thought.
On the other hand, Sihtric felt like a God himself. His thumb returned to your mouth, feeding the oral fixation you didn't know you had. "Will you take the both os us?" He taunted you, asking you questions while he filled your mouth. The thought of them both intimidated you, and you shuddered when Finan aligned himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in before you could even think.
"Yes, yes, yes," you chanted like a mad woman, drool slipping past your lips in excess amounts, pleasing Sihtric, whose thumb was soon replaced with his thick cock. It slid straight to the back of your throat, slowly beginning to match the pace of Finan's thrusts.
Though Finan was attempting to be gentle, he did not recognise his own strength, apologising out of habit when you squealed. The sound was muffled by Sihtric's cock, his pelvis now hitting your nose. Both men shared a look above you, in silent agreement, realising this is exactly what they wanted in life. You.
In all of Winchester, nothing had more of a pull to them like you did. Not even Uhtred's command would keep them away from you now.
"Fuck," Finan practically spat, his hips quickening their pace, his long cock coming inside and outside of you, feeling the tightness grip harder and harder until he was nearly coming.
Sihtric equally had his way with you, hand in your hair simply moving you as he pleased, loving the way your tongue lolled out to welcome his cock.
"You are so beautiful, lady." Finan moaned, head facing the sky as if in prayer. It did not take much longer before he was coming undone within you, cursing as he realised he had selfishly come before both you and Sihtric.
Sihtric gave one final stroke before he too came straight down your throat, a choke coming from you as he waited before moving out of you. He decided that he wanted to take you next.
"Swallow."
His final command had you tightening around Finan, disturbing him from his moment of meditation with great force. Gritting his teeth, Finan barely managed to keep his composure as he finally slid from you, both men letting you slump underneath them.
Exhaustion hit you with a sharp thump, and your eyes began to close before you could say anything to the two men above you. Your eyes glazed over as Finan turned you onto your back to face them. They towered over you, Finan smiling, assuring you he was only trying to help when he let go of you for a moment, going to fetch a rag.
"When can we bind you to this bed? I want to keep you here forever."
#sihtric#sihtric x reader#finan#sihtric smut#the last kingdom#finan x reader#tlk finan#the last kingdom x reader#finan imagine#the last kingdom fluff#uhtred x reader#sihtric x reader x finan#finan smut#tlk#tlk fanfic#tlk fandom#sihtric kjartansson#finan the agile
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Infected/Zombie Reader helping RE men (Leon K., Carlos O., & Ethan W.)
Somewhat based on that one zombie reader post by @qdbs-writes because honestly it was really cute and this idea has been bouncing in my brain for a bit. I’m going to preface that I’ve only played RE2R, but I have a vague understanding of the RE lore and stories, i’m only doing these three because I know them the best, if I knew chris better I would’ve added him
(this is just a suggestion but here’s what’s damaged on your zombie body: right eye gone, right cheek crewed off, left shoulder nearly gone, and several bites all around)
Leon S. Kennedy (RE2)
You’re one of the many, many, people who fled to the RPD to escape the growing hoards of zombies, unfortunately you were infected early on and hid out in one of the many storage rooms as you succumbed to the virus
…but your conscious stays somewhat intact, sure every thought is slower and less verbose but you still have some of it left, speaking is hard as well but you can speak to some degree
you stay on the third floor, observing Marvin and eventually Leon once he comes in
You’re enamored as soon as you see him, so you decide to try and help him as he goes through the entire RPD, placing some ammo here, some boards there, in general helping out behind the scenes despite how slow you move
This slowness bites you when you go down to the main hall to place a green and red plant you had found next to the typewriter, since Leon had been limping for quite awhile around the RPD
You gently place the two plants (still in the containers, you can’t grind them up due to the shakiness in your zombified hands) but you hear Leon coming down from the second floor library so you try and shuffle back into a room to hide again, until you hear the click of his gun
You turn around and see Leon, gun raised to likely give you a headshot like he’s given to plenty of the other zombies around (you know since you’ve seen plenty bodies with exploded heads..)
So you just, start shuffling backwards with arms raised in peace, mumbling ‘sorry.. sorry.. please, no.. hurt’ as best you can with your undead voice, which comes out pretty rough
Leon was about to shoot you but as soon as he saw you back away and mumble what sounded like human speech and not just growls and rumbles, so he lowers his gun slightly, tilting his head at you
You escape into the west office, and Leon fully lowers his gun and then looks at the plants you left him (he uses them, he’s not an idiot to ignore a healing item when he’s been at ‘danger’ for 2 hours)
When Leon unlocks the Goddess statue you come out from hiding and softly approach, and hand him some ammo and healing items “good.. byye..” you say to him look at him with your singular eye (you lost the other one when you got infected) before starting to walk off
Leon watches you walk away, about to hide again and he hesitates before saying “Wait, would you… like to come with me?”.
He watches you turn slightly and grumble “..you.. sure?”
He nods at you and you walk back up to him, and follow him as he goes down the stairs
Bonus:
During the G-3 fight you help by throwing yourself at him and stab one of the eyes with a knife Leon gave you, smiling in triumph when you stab an eye fully
Ada is very cautious and nearly shoots you several times, she thinks you’re just in the early stages of infection and she doesn’t want you killing her pawn (leon) before he gets the virus for her
When you get on the train Claire and Sherry are a bit wary of you but during the trip they start to like you, Leon’s account helps a lot as well
Carlos Oliveria (RE3)
Similar to Leon’s, you’re one of the people who fled to the RPD and got infected, and hid in a storage room (this storage room was clearly for all the Christmas decor… the bells gave it away)
You picked off the bells and kept them in a small box, as well as stealing post-it notes and a pen from the west office
From the second floor you watch Carlos and Tyrell make their way in, watching them scope out the place
As soon as you saw Carlos, you muttered under your breath “he..h.. scruffy..”
You noticed he was having a hard time with the Lickers, so you decided to make use of the bells you took, throwing them down hallways out of sight of Carlos so the Lickers chased the noise
He heard the chiming, making a remark like “The hell is that coming from?”
After awhile of doing this, you decided to just gift Carlos the bells
You place them on a desk with the brightest sticky note you could find
He finds it, noticing the stark contrast of the gloomy environment of the RPD, and reads the note
‘For the licks! Hold tighy in hnd then throw, it loud so they chse! : )’ was written on the note, it was hard to read being a shaky and messy handwriting but he got the general idea, chuckling at the squiggly smily face on it
He opens and sees 4 tiny golden bells
He looks around, hoping to maybe find who put it there but finds nothing, nothing but a hunched over dead (?) zombie next to the desk “Whoever put this here, Thanks, and thanks for probably being the reason for saving my ass a few times”
He leaves and you say to the air “no.. problemmm..!”
You start following him around and so he eventually notices you, and nearly shoots you on the spot before you move your hand to ring the golden bell you kept and attached to a string as a necklace
He relaxes a bit but keeps his guard up until he realizes that you’re just an innocent smart (questionable) zombie!
Bonus:
Before realizing that you weren’t gonna hurt him, he really thought you were because you kept staring up at his head… In reality you just really wanted to pet his hair, but because words are hard when you’re a zombie and you didn’t wanna get shot you just didn’t say anything
(You eventually did get to touch his hair, muttering a “soooft.. so.. soooft!”)
In that helicopter cutscene when Nicholai is about to shoot Jill, you jump from nowhere and tackle the guy by the neck; Carlos shouts in exclamation “Hell yeah! Get him!” before Nicholai punches your jaw right off (ouch)
Ethan Winters (RE7)
In this case you’re kinda like Ethan if he didn’t get all his memory and body transferred (does.. does that make sense???)
Since the moment Ethan stepped into the Baker House, you’ve been watching him
While you can’t remember most of your past, you know you were human like him, and watching him brings you a sense of… comfort. So you watch as he explores the house, trying to find Mia
Sometimes you forget what you’re doing and make noise, making Ethan more paranoid as he goes through the house (you felt bad every time you accidentally spooked him)
Watching him getting attacked by Mia was a nightmare, and you felt like you shouldn’t intervene… until Mia stabbed him in the hand
You emerged from the shadows (and mold..) and pulled her off of Ethan, giving a soft growl at her before she tried to attack you. You sidestepped and pushed her into the wall, which caused her to knock her head against the wall and faint
You stared down at her before turning to Ethan, who was a bit put off by your appearance
“You’re… hurt. Follow.” and you start walking to where a first aid liquid was hidden away and hand it to him
After patching him up you go over to the boarded up door and started to remove the wood with ease, before Mia got back up and threw Ethan through the nearly open door. You yelp (with some scratchiness) at that before running up to try and help, but then Ethan swung an axe into her neck.
You look at him and see the horror in his eyes at what he’s just done, you reach out to touch his back before slightly withdrawing; “you… oo-kay?” You asked in a low voice, and he shook his head before standing up and making his way deeper into the house, fully ignoring you after that.
So you follow, wanting to make sure he’s okay. He’s the only thing human in this house (for now)
Then Mia comes back again, of course, stabbing Ethan in the hand with a screwdriver this time. You run up and start trying to pry it out of the wall and his hand, before you see Mia coming with a chainsaw. She slashes with the chainsaw, cutting you in half at the shoulder before hitting Ethan’s wrist.
You blackout for awhile, coming to after about an hour as your body of mold stitches itself back together into one solid form again
Submerging into the mold, you reform in the living room adjacent to the nightmare dining room, seeing the back of Ethan tied in one of the chairs
You carefully untie him from the chair, before being noticed Marguerite pulled you up by the hair unto the table
You reach into a clump of mold and pull a smoke bomb before pulling Ethan out of the chair and away
From there on you helped him the best you could
Bonus:
You alway try and take the hits for him, he’s still fleshy and human, you can take it! He’s still worried for you despite the fact you can patch yourself back together.
When Ethan dies and becomes mold, you feel bad for him. You don’t tell him, since if he thinks he’s still human, then he’s still human to you.
After the BSAA comes you don’t know what to do, you assume you’re going to be left there or be experimented on… but Ethan calls your name (that you told him at some point, it’s one of the only things you have left from before being molded) and gestures you to come with him, you come close before fearfully looking at Chris, but he just nods and lets you on the helicopter.
OKAY WOW this is… something. I don’t know. I kinda gave up in that last one despite Ethan being my favorite next to Leon. I really hope, that this is good, im some way, amd i hope i didnt totally screw the canon, ahhh. Hope people like thissss,,, would’ve done art but i’ve got art block
#re x reader#x reader#gender nuetral reader#ethan winters#carlos oliveira#leon s kennedy#ethan winters x reader#carlos oliveria x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy re2#fanfiction#resident evil x reader#resident evil fanfiction#i tried#maybe ooc#zombie reader#infected reader#self indulgent#headcanon#headcanon stuff
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pretty please (be a perfect night) || c.sc
You and Seungcheol celebrate your one-month anniversary; however, a guest from the past makes an unexpected appearance.
💞 Pairing: boyfriend!Seungcheol x Reader (f)
💞 Rating/Genres/AUs: NC-17; Fluff, tad of angst; Established relationship, Pretty Please Couple
💞 Warnings: Name-calling not in bed (bitch), pet names (Cherry, baby, babe), referred to as girl, reader has she/her pronouns, some suggestive content, mentions of sleeping around and family troubles, reader wears cheol's clothes and has "fancy" nails
💞 Word Count: 3.7k
💞 Timeline: Between "(stay with me)" and "(rid your worries)"; Mostly can be read as a standalone but does have some vague references to past parts
💞 Author's Note: Based on this ask! Thank you for the idea. I love seeing people enjoy reading this couple ^-^ Apologies for the long wait! I wrote this a few days later, but then I kept editing and adding more stuff so it ended up being longer than planned fkjbgfdk starting off the new year with this couple feels right 💖
pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
Seungcheol’s hand rests on your thigh, drawing random shapes on your exposed skin. Dim street lights pass by, and you get lost in the repetition.
You had never thought you were a person to celebrate the smaller couple anniversaries, but here you are.
It’s been one month since you and Seungcheol decided to be a couple. A month of affection and care you’re not used to, but it’s a nice change. You insisted you were fine doing something less extravagant for your one-month anniversary, however, Seungcheol refused. He made a dinner reservation at one of the fancier restaurants in town and didn’t give you a chance to decline.
Despite not wanting a formal celebration, you’re glad Seungcheol cares about what you two have so wholeheartedly.
When Seungcheol pulls into a parking spot, you finally turn to him.
He’s already looking at you with a handsome smile. His hair is styled to show the middle of his forehead while strands of his hair frame his face. You can’t believe you ever thought his looks were mediocre.
“You ready to go, Cherry?” he asks.
You nod, reaching for the door, but Seungcheol squeezes your thigh to stop you. You peer at him in confusion.
“You know better,” he says with a small frown.
“Babe,” you sigh, recalling how he likes to open the door for you. Sometimes he’ll let you do it without a fight, but tonight is not one of those times.
“This is a proper date. I want to get the door for you,” he explains.
Relenting, you drop your hand into your lap. “Okay.”
He smiles, then makes his way to your side of the vehicle. He opens the door and holds out a hand. You take it, carefully stepping out and double-checking you have your purse.
“You look incredible, baby,” he murmurs as he stares at you.
You tuck your head down with a smile wide in appreciation. “Thanks.”
He chuckles at your bashfulness. After shutting and locking the door, he leads you to the entrance.
As you near, you say, “You look really nice, too, Cheol. Is this a new suit?”
You pause in your trek to raise a hand to his chest, fingers grazing the material in wonder.
Seungcheol glances at his attire. It’s an all-black suit paired with a checkered-pattern tie. On the left lapel is a Chanel broach.
“No, but I rarely wear this,” he explains. “I had to wear the best for you.”
“Well, I’m honored,” you smile.
Seungcheol covers your hand that’s on his chest with his, giving it a squeeze while he leans in to kiss your head.
As expected, he holds the front doors open for you and takes care of checking you both in. He keeps one hand on you as you follow the waiter to your table. When you arrive, he pulls the chair out and helps you get situated.
You’re a little shy about being treated in such a way, but you know it makes Seungcheol happy.
“You know what I’ve noticed?” he asks while taking his own seat.
You pick up the menu and hum in response.
Seungcheol lowers your menu, so you’re looking at him.
“You get nice when you’re nervous,” he chuckles softly.
You roll your eyes and wiggle the menu from his hold.
“I’m not nervous,” you protest.
Seungcheol smiles. “It’s okay that you are. I’m a little nervous too.”
Your eyes meet his. He leans back in his chair and opens his own menu. His gaze is wandering over the courses with no sign of jitters in sight.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Seungcheol looks at you. “You don’t believe me, Cherry?”
A shake of your head.
“I’ve taken the prettiest girl I know on a date; she’s dressed so beautifully that it’s hard not to stare. And she’s looking at me with these eyes that make my heart do weird things,” he speaks slowly and earnestly, sitting straighter.
“I want this night to go well, so yes, I’m nervous.”
“C-Cheol,” you say in a whisper.
He just smiles, showing off his dimples and making your heart rate spike.
Seungcheol doesn’t normally say these things unless he’s teasing you.
You want to tell him he makes you feel as though you’re his number one. As if he’ll run a thousand miles just to get to you. You want to say he’s treating you so well that you’re falling harder for him. He’s put so much thought and effort, not only in the planning but his appearance, that you don’t want to mess it up somehow.
The way he’s gone all out for this date is making you feel both cherished and guilty. Cherished because none of your other boyfriends ever took the relationship so seriously, and guilty because you don’t feel you deserve it.
“Order whatever you want, babe,” he finally breaks the silence. There’s a small smile on his lips as if he’s proud to have rendered you speechless. He’s not upset you haven’t said anything, nor did he expect you to. The look on your face tells him enough. He understands your affection comes in the form of actions. Granted, so does his most of the time, but tonight, he wants you to know how he really feels.
When the waiter comes back, you order your drinks and meals. You’re surprised to see Seungcheol ordering a lot of food, some you figure is for you since you didn’t order much—not because you didn’t like any of the options but because a lot of it is expensive.
“I have a gift for you,” Seungcheol announces once the waiter leaves.
You’re sipping your drink and nearly choke on it from shock. The guilt grows in your chest when you realize you didn’t buy him anything. You didn’t even think to get a gift.
“You didn’t need to get me anything,” you say.
“I know,” he replies and retrieves something from his suit pocket.
It’s a black rectangular box. He places it on your end of the table, staring at you expectedly.
You grab the box and open it carefully. Inside is a rhinestone necklace with several cherries dangling from it. For some, all the bling might be gaudy. To you, it’s stunning.
“Wow,” you say and graze your fingers over the accessory.
“Is it too much?” Seungcheol asks, worry in his voice.
You shake your head.
“It’s so pretty. Thank you, Cheol,” you smile and look at him.
“I know you already have one on, but do you wanna,” he trails off.
You touch the necklace you’re already wearing as if to confirm he’s right. “Oh,” you murmur.
When you dress, you ensure every part of your fit matches perfectly. From the shoes to the layers to the accessories, you’re particular with how you style. So, when Seungcheol asks if you want to exchange jewelry, your first reaction is to be hesitant.
The necklace is beautiful, but you’re nervous about switching it when you haven’t tried everything together.
Seungcheol’s shoulders sag ever so slightly at your silence.
“No worries,” he forces a smile. “Forget I asked.”
He averts his gaze to glance around the restaurant.
You frown upon seeing his sad expression. He’s doing a good job hiding his disappointment, but you’re watching him so attentively that you can see it.
“Baby,” you call out softly.
“Hm?” he hums, glancing at you briefly.
You reach a hand across the table to cover his. “Will you help me put it on?”
Seungcheol gives a small smile, lips pressed together. “You don’t—”
“I can’t put it on because of my nails,” you explain. “So, will you help me?”
Seungcheol eyes you for a moment. He gets a feeling you don’t really want to wear it.
With a silent sigh, you remove your hand from his and reach behind your neck to unlatch your necklace. You struggle to unclasp the hook, fingers slipping from the clasp too quickly for you to slide the connecting end away.
Seungcheol stands, makes his way behind you, then replaces your hands with his.
He’s silent as he takes off the jewelry and sets it on the table gently. He grabs the cherry necklace, wrapping it around your neck carefully and securing the ends. The cold metal makes you shiver for a second. You didn’t realize it would fit more like a choker, but it’s nice to have variety in your wardrobe.
Seungcheol’s fingers linger on your skin before he sits back down.
“How does it look?” you wonder with a smile.
“Beautiful. You look beautiful,” he says without a doubt.
You glance in your lap and then look at him again. “I’m sorry.”
Seungcheol tilts his head. “What for?”
“For hesitating.”
He smiles, the same closed-mouth one, but it looks more genuine now.
“I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. Do you want me to take it off?”
“No,” you answer quickly. “I want to keep it on.”
He nods. “I think it suits you well, Cherry.”
“I think so too,” you reply.
Although you haven’t seen yourself fully with it on, it should be fine paired with your simple yet elegant dress.
Soon the tension dissipates, and you both fall into a casual conversation.
The waiter comes back and informs you that it’s taking longer than usual for your meals. Seungcheol doesn’t look pleased momentarily, but he puts on a friendly appearance soon after.
As an apology, the waiter comes back with a complimentary bottle of champagne.
“This just means I get to spend more time with you dressed up,” you say as Seungcheol pours you both a glass.
He peeks at you and sighs. “That’s a good way of putting it.”
“This doesn’t ruin anything,” you reassure, knowing he’s upset that there’s a hiccup in what he hoped would be a perfect date.
Seungcheol nods and hands you your filled glass.
“To being happy,” he says, raising his glass.
You grin at his small toast. It’s nice to know you make him as happy as he makes you.
“To being happy,” you repeat, then clink glasses.
You watch Seungcheol over the rim of your glass as you take a sip, smiling as you make eye contact.
“Good?” he asks.
You nod and place the drink down.
“I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom,” you inform and slide your chair back.
“Okay,” he says.
Seungcheol watches as you leave, eyes a little more focused than necessary to make sure you get to the restrooms safely. It’s only when you round the corner that he tears his gaze away.
He pulls his phone out and starts scrolling through social media to bypass the time.
“Seungcheol?” a hesitant voice calls in front of him a minute later.
He snaps his gaze up, something about the voice ringing familiarity.
A woman dressed in a long dress stands across the table. Her hair is neatly pulled from her face and a small handbag is in one of her hands. She looks different from the last time he’s seen her.
“Hajun?” Seungcheol asks, shocked.
She grins widely.
“It is you,” she breathes out a sigh of relief. “Not that you look much different, but I thought I was seeing things.”
He hums, an uneasy feeling in his chest.
The last time he spoke to her was at your senior fashion show. Numerous calls and texts from her went ignored; especially, when he found out what she had said to you outside that bathroom on campus. Even now, he can’t stop thinking about her words. The very untrue, and vile words.
“Can I sit real quick? I feel bad with how things ended between us.”
Seungcheol glances behind her. He doesn’t see you and hopes you take your time. He’s sure she’s the last person you want to see.
“Yeah,” he replies.
She nods and takes a seat.
“Look, I’m sorry for how I acted in college. I know it hasn’t been long, but a lot can change in a month.”
“Like?” he ponders.
“For starters, remember that company I really wanted to work for? I got hired there!” she beams. “There are some really nice people helping me improve my skills.”
“That sounds great, Hajun,” Seungcheol congratulates.
“It is,” she smiles. “So, are you doing a business deal or something? I saw you work for Attacca now.”
“I do, but that’s not why I’m here tonight,” he replies.
“Oh,” she says, a little surprised. “Then, why are you dressed up so nicely? You used to only dress like this when we had presentations or something of the sort.”
Her gaze flickers across his body, taking in his nice suit.
“I’m on a date,” he answers plainly, not having any desire to disclose with whom.
Her eyes widen. “Really? Me too!”
This time, it’s Seungcheol’s turn to look shocked.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she laughs. “I’m not totally undesirable.”
Seungcheol shakes his head. “It’s not that, I just…”
Hajun smiles. “I’m just messing with you. Like old times, remember?”
Seungcheol hums. Although Hajun was never nice to you, she always treated him kindly. Sure, she was a gossiper, but nothing came out of it. Not until you came along. Perhaps he just never saw her with the people the gossip was about.
“So, if you’re on a date, does this mean you got over Yn?” she wonders. He gets the impression that she always assumed his liking toward you was temporary. As if Hajun was just waiting for his “phrase” to pass.
Seungcheol’s hands close in fists beneath the table. The conversation was bearable until now. Now, he dreads to hear what Hajun has to say. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened months ago.
“You’re still thinking of her?” he asks, trying to divert the question.
She shrugs. “Not really, but seeing you reminded me how infatuated you were. I mean, you did ditch me for her.”
She laughs, but it feels forced as if she’s trying to hide how upset she is.
Seungcheol purses his lips. “You know why I ditched you, Hajun.”
“I told you I was just looking out for you, Cheollie,” she exasperates. “All I ever wanted was for you not to get hurt. And can you blame me for worrying? She was known to sleep around and be noncommittal. All her exes said—”
“They were exes for a reason. It seems they were all insecure and needed to start rumors to heal their egos.”
Seungcheol can feel his body heat as the anger begins to rise. It always did when she spoke about you, but now it’s intensified.
“Maybe the reason was because she wasn’t all she made herself out to be,” Hajun argues.
It suddenly feels like he’s in college again, surrounded by the study room walls with his so-called friends. At least he always had Vernon to lean on for reason.
“I think people put labels on her and just went with it,” Seungcheol says.
Hajun scoffs. “Oh, come on, Cheollie. She always acted like she was above everyone else. Perfect grades, perfect family… Yeah, right. I heard her father is a dead-beat and her sister is a—”
“You don’t know shit, Hajun,” he snaps finally. “You never did.”
She frowns, seemingly offended at his words. “You can’t seriously still like her,” she says, flabbergasted.
“Why not?” he challenges.
“You’re better than her!” she huffs. “You’re caring, you’re loyal, you’re smart. She’s none of that. You can reach levels of success she never can. She’s not that talented, and she’s probably not even good in bed.”
“She’s amazing, actually.” He smirks.
Hajun chokes, eyes wide in horror. “W-What?”
Seungcheol leans on the table. He narrows his eyes at her, more serious than ever.
��You haven’t changed, Hajun. You’re still jealous of her and all your shit-talking shows it. Had I never tolerated all your badmouthing, I would’ve been much happier the last few months.”
Hajun blinks; her mouth is slightly ajar as she processes what he said.
“So, you are on a date with her,” Hajun says in realization. There’s disgust evident in her voice that fuels Seungcheol’s irritation. He’s been so engrossed by her that he hasn’t seen you standing behind Hajun. He jumps as if his hand is caught in the cookie jar.
“Why, of course,” you laugh mockingly sweetly. “You still think he’ll give you the time of day?”
Seungcheol’s heart races at seeing you. You don’t look as pissed as he thought you would be, but that doesn’t mean you’re not hiding it.
He’s prepared to tell you Hajun’s just leaving, but he’s interrupted before he can get a syllable out.
“You’re still the bitch you were in college,” Hajun growls, a glare in her eyes.
You smile. “Takes one to know one.”
Hajun’s eyes narrow.
“I see your fashion has improved,” you observe. “Did you learn something from me?”
Hajun reaches for the glass of champagne on the table, fully prepared to drench you with it, but Seungcheol grabs her arm swiftly. Some of it swishes over the lip and spills on the table.
“It’s time for you to go, Hajun. I’m sure your date is wondering where you are,” Seungcheol speaks firmly.
Hajun turns to face him and slowly relaxes in his grip. “You don’t see what she’s doing to you?”
Her voice is softer now; she sounds sad.
“She’s making me happier,” he replies, hand still wrapped around her wrist in case she changes her mind.
“She’s making you a dick,” Hajun corrects. “You’re not the Seungcheol I knew a few months ago.”
“No, Hajun. I’ve just gotten better at standing up for people I care about,” Seungcheol replies. He almost sounds a little defeated by her lack of sense.
Hajun’s stare lingers on his. He watches her search his eyes for what he’s guessing is his past self, but she doesn’t understand he never left. It’s just clearer to him to see who’s worth fighting for.
“Enjoy your night, Hajun,” Seungcheol dismisses.
Hajun inhales deeply before releasing a breath. She eases her grip on the glass and stands from the seat. She gives you one last snarl with her back turned to Seungcheol, then walks to the other end of the restaurant.
As she’s walking away, you shuffle to Seungcheol’s side and call her name.
She turns, already annoyed with whatever you’re about to say.
You give her a small smile before you tilt Seungcheol’s face toward yours and kiss him. Seungcheol nips at your lip at your childish behavior but doesn’t resist.
When you pull away, you see she’s rolling her eyes and giving you the finger.
You’re tempted to reciprocate the gesture, but she turns around before you can lift a hand.
“That was immature,” Seungcheol murmurs, although he doesn’t sound upset.
“So is she,” you argue.
Seungcheol rubs his lips together, not disagreeing with your comment.
“So, what did you hear?” he asks as you sit down.
“That you think I’m amazing in bed,” you grin, crossing your legs and leaning back in your seat.
Seungcheol seems embarrassed for a few seconds, but then he’s smirking and grazing one of your legs with his under the table.
“I’m sure you’ll be amazing in my car too,” he replies.
Your mouth drops slightly. “Seungcheol!”
He cocks an eyebrow up briefly—a habit of his that you’ve started to find more attractive than annoying.
“We can get a to-go,” he offers.
You shake your head and nudge at his leg with yours. “You wanted to eat here, so we’re eating here. Behave yourself.”
Seungcheol’s eyes flicker down at your body, sighing.
“But you make it so hard,” he groans lowly.
You know he’s talking about not being able to behave, but you get the hint he’s also referring to something else.
You resist the urge to glance down, knowing you won’t be able to see what you’re looking for anyway.
“I’m sure I do,” you smile mischievously.
The corner of his lips dips down.
Thankfully, your food arrives before he can reply, and the conversation transitions into something more appropriate.
With the night winding down and a belly filled with delicious food, you begin to get sleepy. Seungcheol pays for the meal and then helps you get into the car. His hand holds yours, and he can’t stop the grin on his face when he feels your grip ease as you fall asleep.
You look so sweet that he doesn’t wake you when he arrives at his apartment. He’s careful to pick you up and carry you to his front door, then to his bedroom.
“Babe,” he finally speaks.
“Hm?” you mumble in his arms.
“We’re at my place, you wanna change for bed?” he asks softly.
Your eyes peel open, glancing around to confirm your whereabouts.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mumble.
“It’s no problem, baby,” he says and eases you onto the bed.
“Your clothes or mine?” he asks, opening his closet to get you something more comfortable.
“Yours,” you answer tiredly.
Seungcheol’s not surprised by your answer, yet his heart still skips a beat. He likes that you enjoy his clothes even if they’re not the most stylish. Granted, some are well-known brands, but they’re still just plain.
He hands you a spare shirt and shorts and then changes into his own nightwear. When he looks at you, you’re already tucked under his covers, shorts forgotten at the foot of the bed.
“That sleepy huh?” he chuckles and puts away the unwanted shorts.
“Very,” you sigh.
Seungcheol climbs into bed after turning off the light, immediately getting hugged by you. He wiggles a bit to get comfortable.
“You have a good night, Cherry?” he asks.
You nod, eyes peering up to his. “The best.”
“I’m glad,” he murmurs. “Thank you for letting me take you out to dinner.”
You smile. Despite wanting to keep things small, you’re glad he took you out in the end. It was nice going on a proper date since it’s been a while. Not by choice, but aligning schedules hasn’t been as easy nowadays. You’ve both been busy with your new jobs.
“I didn’t have a choice,” you answer teasingly.
Seungcheol chuckles. “Not really.”
It’s quiet for a moment until Seungcheol begins to speak.
“I lo—”
“Happy one-month anniversary, Cheol,” you say nearly at the same time; however, you don’t inquire on what he was going to say afterward.
Seungcheol pauses as he contemplates continuing his sentence. He decides against it.
“Happy one month, baby,” he echos instead, leaning down to kiss you sweetly—a faint smile on his lips.
A/N: If anyone is curious, this is how I imagined the necklace/choker to look like.
For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^
taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23*, @mystikha*, @lithelust, @doom-fics, @ellllsia (im debating on only tagging those who specified for the pretty please couple just bc some parts may not make sense if you haven't read the series, but lmk if you have a preference!)
©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
#kvanity#kdiarynet#scousp fanfic#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#scoups fluff#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#scoups x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#svt scoups
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So we’re all trans?
Barbie dolls: t4t!Jegulus x genderfluid!reader
Word: 3.3k ish
Summary: James and Regulus are nervy to tell you they’re trans while you are nervy to tell them you’re genderfluid and hilarity ensues
Warnings: Lightning McQueen, Shrek, Spiderman, and Peter Pettigrew mentioned, James is a kale freak, I talked like a lot most of which was not necessary, mentions: shots (testosterone), getting vaccinations, cheating, domestic homicide, medieval torture, your experience with genderfluidity(it’s going to be a word for today) might not align with mine but i kept it as vague as possible, a bit of a Disney channel moment but just like ignore the cringe baby it's fine it adds character, you place your hands on your hips but it's not like “you place your tiny baby girl hands on your voluptuous hips in girly frustration” yk so it works for whatever gender you're feeling🩷, insecure feelings in gender identity, everybody is worried the other is going to break up with them bc they’re trans so it's like hypothetical transphobia, you wear pants, jamie used once, yeah i think thats it please read the author’s note i want to cover all my bases to make sure this doesn’t have unintended messages right okay cool
A/n: I'm going to use the small text bc I'm going to be yapping a lot so I apologize to all the bad vision freaks(I can't see two inches in front of my face) right so I just wanted to say that both James and Regulus had medically assisted transitions (that feels like a right phrasing) reg had top surgery, James takes puberty blockers, and they both take T I just wanted to say that you do not have to take anything or do anything to be valid in your trans identity some people can’t afford surgeries and some people don't want them and everybody is valid (except for those people who are like “me when the trans guy with triple d’s gets mad I mess up their pronouns” they can suck my 12-foot long dick) I just wanted to say this because I didn’t want someone to read this and feel like they don’t count because they didn’t follow these two rich boys’ paths okay awesome
request: right here dickhead
James and Regulus have been dating for years. Strangely enough, they had been taking care of each other since day one. It was truly simple, once they moved in together their acts of service quadrupled. Suddenly James was sitting with Regulus on the edge of the bathtub, gently removing his chest tape. Regulus decided chest tape wasn’t enough, and James was reaching the shelves over Regulus’ elbow height for him. James became a supreme master at making soup while Regulus was in recovery from his top surgery. Eventually, Regulus was healed and extremely joyous. He was wandering around the house with his shirt off just for the hell of it. Regulus was prancing down the porch stairs to get the mail in only his James’ plaid pajama pants and cat slippers.
James was lucky enough to have loving accepting parents. He started puberty blockers early on and eventually, he swapped them out for testosterone so he neglected the want and or perceived need for a top surgery. James, after having years of practice, lost his uneasiness towards the injections. Regulus, however, was extremely terrified of needles. As a kid, he was practically breaking Sirius’ hand from his grip when he needed to get his vaccinations. Before he met James, Sirius would do them for him. Now, Regulus would stand in the kitchen covering his eyes with his forearm and turning away as far as he could. James would inject the shot as fast as possible, rewarding Regulus’ bravery with 80 kisses on his cheek and ice cream.
They were out to their friends, but it wasn’t exactly something mentioned frequently. It didn’t really matter all that much. Barty would call you a dickhead no matter what was in your pants. Marlene was similar but her go-to insult was ‘ bitchey-bitch-bitch-stupid-face’, friends only of course. You can’t have that insane unfiltered language out with strangers. Lily loved everyone, closing off every single phone call with ‘I love you’ even if it was customer service.
Peter was similar although instead he thanked people by saying ‘I appreciate you’. He once mentioned how he was working at a restaurant having a horrible day. He was yelled at more than thrice in a row, and he was certain if someone called him one more bad name he’d burst into tears. Then this woman came in, who appeared to have met the first dinosaur, and she was so kind to him. When she left she said ‘Thanks, baby. I appreciate you.’ And he sobbed in the freezer. Peter immediately engraved it into his dictionary. All their friends knew, but it was like knowing their favorite letter; it’s nice to know but that information doesn’t really come into play very frequently.
Then they met you. Regulus had dragged James to the bookstore. James loved going to the bookstore with Regulus. Regulus liked wandering for hours. He liked scanning the backs and summaries inside the front cover. James liked the bookstore mainly because Regulus liked it. He also liked looking through the cookbooks and workout guides. Sometimes when the story was empty he’d head towards the kid section, squeeze himself into one of the tiny plastic chairs, and do the puzzles. Eventually when Regulus would finish looking, a hefty stack in his arms, he’d find James. Usually, James would brag about how ‘those dumbasses’ had nothing on him. He finished eight puzzles in under a minute. Regulus would remind him the puzzles had six pieces each.
That time was different though. James had looked through all the cookbooks, finding one he liked. James looked at a few of the workout books, getting bored when they said something he didn’t agree with. He finished all the puzzles made for toddlers, and yet his boyfriend still wasn’t done. It was odd. So James went on a search for Regulus. He checked the poetry section first, no Regulus. He went to the fantasy next, no dice. James stalked up and down every aisle. His ears perched up at the sound of Regulus’ voice. It was a bit strange, Regulus didn’t usually volunteer to socially interact with anyone. James assumed he got trapped into small talk, rushing to his boyfriend’s rescue.
James found Regulus actually grinning with a stranger. James didn’t even know he could do that. Regulus was holding a book open, letting you lean to look over his shoulder. You both looked more than excited to finally meet somebody you could talk to about your favorite book. The more James looked at you, the more he understood why Regulus was so happy to talk to you. Delectable was a nasty word to use to describe a person so James opted instead for extremely stunning. Eventually with Regulus’ book opinions and James’ cheesy flirting, their couple grew into a throuple.
Your relationship is a little fresh now. In the way that you had no idea what either of their pajamas looked like but you knew exactly where their spoons were. James and Regulus weren’t entirely sure if you would accept them with open arms if they shared every part of them, including their favorite letter. They stayed silent for the most part, letting you stay ignorant just this once.
You were harboring your own skeleton in the closet. You haven’t told them you are genderfluid, and you haven’t told them how many frustrations that caused. You love who you are but for fucks sake could it be just a smidge easier? Your secret was weighing on you. It was all you could think about while you were out with your two amazing boyfriends. If you told them they could disprove and break up with you on the spot. They could also accept you but an overthinking mind never seems to be optimistic.
Your boyfriends seemed to notice your mood change, worried now you might’ve put together a couple of context clues and realized maybe they aren’t cis. What if now you were disgusted by them? James squashed that idea when Regulus voiced it, though it still lingered with him. Regulus knew James was just trying to relieve him of his worries but Regulus still appreciated his attempt.
Finally, the camel’s back broke and you were heading straight to their shared home. It was edging towards their bedtime the sun had set a couple of hours ago, fully relying on their warm lamps. They both had changed into their matching pajamas; plaid pants and Spiderman t-shirts. Regulus had slippers with tiny cat ears on the top and little cat faces on them. James however had Lighting McQueen slippers that lit up when he took a step. They were cute when he first got them but the novelty wore off rather quickly and now Regulus complains that James’ shoes give him a headache. Regulus settled into the barstool behind the kitchen counter with his reward ice cream. James leaned against the counter across from him, slurping very loudly on his smoothie. James jutted it out to Regulus.
“Want some?” Regulus looked up at James with a raised eyebrow.
“James, if I ever say I want some of your kale and banana smoothie, I give you full permission to assassinate me. Preferably quickly.” James pouted, pointing the lip of his glass back towards himself. Regulus rolled his eyes and took another bite of his ice cream.
“You could’ve just said no, also what did we say about suicide jokes?” James said, pointing over his shoulder at the small whiteboard on the fridge that said ‘6 days without a suicide joke’ in James’ handwriting. Regulus dropped his spoon back into his bowl, feeling particularly peeved at the unjust accusation.
“No, no. That’s not suicide, that's homicide. Two entirely different things. You can’t dock my streak just because you didn’t find the joke funny.” Regulus stuck his finger at James. James pushed Regulus’ finger away, leaning forward to steal a kiss from him. James pulled away, taking another sip of his smoothie as Regulus took another spoonful.
“No offense, babe, but I’m not sure if I know anyone who would find domestic homicide funny,” James added, with his straw still in his mouth. Regulus scoffed.
“That’s because you have lame friends,” James’ jaw dropped in offense at Regulus’ words. “Barty would find it hilarious, and Dorcas would find it mildly amusing.” Regulus retorted, grinning like he won their game. James pressed his lips together in disapproval. As he was opening his mouth to continue the verbal play fight, a knock on their door interrupted him. They both shared a look of confusion. James shrugged, leaving his smoothie on the counter to get to the door.
“See but Barty finds The Pear of Anguish funny,” James argued, his slippers lighting up on his way to the door.
“Barty’s a masochist, I’m not sure what you were expecting when you took him to that museum,” Regulus muttered into his bowl as James peered out the peephole. James hummed in a confused tone, opening the door to find you. You were not in pajamas and you looked rather stressed.
“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” James asked, worry lacing his words. He moved back letting you step into their foyer. Regulus looked up at James’ words. He doesn’t usually greet the door-to-door salesman like that. Regulus quietly joined you two at the door, he understood James’ greeting now but didn’t understand why you were visiting them looking so frazzled. You looked them both up and down, slightly pausing at James’ shoes. You shrugged your coat off, placing it on their coat rack. James found it at a thrift store and Regulus repainted it.
“You two look dashing.” You muttered as you straightened your shirt. Regulus glanced down at his pajamas, suddenly feeling slightly judged. He crossed his arms over the very large print of Spiderman.
“James picked it out,” Regulus whispered, trying to ignore the stinging on his cheeks. James’ chest puffed out, taking a wider stance and pulling at the end of his shirt so you can see the picture better.
“Aren’t we cute?” James said, confidence making him smile brighter. You nodded.
“Yeah, gotta love Spiderman.” You squished your lips together. Even with your words seeming relaxed your nerves were spreading to Regulus. James seemed to taste the uneasiness in the air.
“Are you alright? If this was planned I would’ve gotten you a shirt.” James reached over, rubbing Regulus’ shoulder to give him silent support. You nodded, staring at the ground to take in a deep breath.
“Right yeah. Sorry to drop in on you guys, but I think we need to talk.” You said, giving yourself a breath to steady yourself. Regulus felt his stomach jump into his throat. It felt tighter now, his heartbeat reaching his ears. Regulus glanced over to James, finding he was already looking. James gave him a tiny smile that Regulus could tell was forced.
“Yeah absolutely.” James brightly said, gesturing towards the living room. You lead the way. Regulus moved his hands to the back of his neck, trying to soothe himself. James noticed, grabbing both of Regulus’ shoulders to rub them, waddling behind Regulus. James kissed Regulus on his temple. Regulus reminded himself that even if what he thought was happening was happening, he’d still have James in the end.
Regulus and James settled on the couch, holding onto each other for emotional support. You started pacing in front of them, walking from one end of James’ favorite rug to the other. James intertwined his fingers with Regulus’, letting Regulus fiddle with them in his lap. It was better than biting his nails. ‘I should get a whiteboard for nail biting’ James thought to himself before zoning back in on your rapid pacing. Regulus’ eyes were following you with panic behind his head movements. Your anxiety was dripping out through your hands, slapping them together over and over again. James was starting to worry that Regulus would get hypnotized moving his eyes back and forth like that.
“You know, darling. I learned the hard way that anxious thoughts are like burps; better out than in.” James offered, hoping it would soothe you a little. You paused your pacing behind the coffee table, turning to face James.
“Did you just quote Shrek?” James clenched his jaw, feeling caught. James saw Regulus turning his head slowly to look at him out of the corner of his eye. James let out a nervous and breathy chuckle.
“It’s good advice,” James muttered, slipping further down the couch. You sighed and faced them both. You held your hands behind your back. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
“Right okay so I need to come clean to you two, I’ve been hiding something for a while now. It’s been stressing me out a lot and I think I would rather risk our relationship than have to go through this alone.” Regulus squeezed James’ hands tighter. James had flashbacks to Regulus getting a shot at the doctor's office.
“Is there another person?” Regulus abruptly said, cutting into your steady breathing time. You looked up at him shocked, quickly shaking your head.
“Oh, no, no, no. No. I would never do that. I would never cheat on you guys.” You quickly rushed out, like Regulus might implode if you didn’t get it out fast enough. James moved to make a fast joke, pushing a small bit of the thick tension out the door with a broom.
“I haven’t been cheating. Have you, Reg?” James asked with a pained grin. Regulus knew his tactics, joining in to shove some of his anxiety behind a potted plant.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Regulus felt himself let out a strained laugh that came out more like a cat hacking up a hairball. You looked at them both with a worried look. Regulus wanted to settle your nerves, giving you his shining smile. Which was just him showing his teeth with dead eyes. You took a step back, holding both your hands up.
“Okay well don’t do that.” You whispered. Regulus relaxed his face. You shivered, shaking out your worries through your hands.
“I’m just going to say it. It’s a lot of words so maybe just sit quietly and let me spill.” You looked up at them both for their agreement. James sat up straighter, giving you all of his attention. Regulus kept his wide, slightly unsettling, eyes on you. You gave them both an awkward smile.
“I’m genderfluid. Which if you don’t know means my gender kind of flows through like all of them. I’m kind of worried about telling you this because I’m not entirely sure if you’ll still think of me the same.” Your voice cracked. You let out a breathy chuckle wagging your finger towards the ground.
“Oh you cheeky mother fucker, pull it together.” You whispered to yourself. You pushed your shoulders back, speaking again. “And it’s just a little frustrating and confusing because the whole time I’m just second-guessing myself. I just feel like no matter what I do I’m never a hundred percent confident in myself. It’s like I’m sitting there wondering-“
“wondering if you’re valid or if you made it all up?” Regulus asked, somehow making his eyes wider. You looked away from your fiddling hands to stare at him quizzically. You whispered the tiniest agreeance, James was shocked he still heard it. James decided to speak up and comfort your frustrations.
“It’s alright that you feel that way, darling. You’re entirely valid. We’ll love you no matter what, unless it’s murder-“
“Well-“
”No matter what. I want you to be your happiest, whether that be doing naked cartwheels in the backyard or making a fort under the kitchen table. Man, woman, something else, a nice mixture of both, I’m here for you. Confusion and frustration happen all the time it's alright. I think it’s important to just make sure you do whatever makes you happiest for that moment or day.” James explained. As he talked Regulus watched your shoulders sink with relaxation. Your anxious eyebrows slowly retreated back to their resting place, the worry lines on your forehead dissapeared again. James let out his own sigh, glad he got to relax his partner again.
“And on a different note, I’m trans myself so I support you on extreme levels,” James added, giving you a bright smile. Regulus scoffed next to him.
“Oh, you’re trans? Not we’re trans?” James clutched his pearls, reeling back to look at Regulus.
“Well, I’m not going to come out for you. I don’t know if you’re comfortable doing that. It’s not my story to tell.” James said, shaking his head at Regulus. Regulus muttered a few choice words at James under his breath as he turned back to you. You looked to have a million math problems in your head.
“So if we could just wrap back around, you’re both trans?” Regulus and James nodded at your question in sync. You sighed, looking around the living room. You placed your hands on your hips in exasperation.
“Just to clear everything up for those at home, I’ve walking around for weeks anxious up the wazoo for absolutely no reason?” Regulus and James glanced at each other.
“yeah.”
“it appears that way, yes.” Regulus watched you groan and drop your head in your hands.
“To throw my two cents in, it’s totally valid to feel a little discombobulated. Gender is hard and often it’s difficult to figure out what you’re truly feeling, it took me years to realize I wasn't nonbinary. It’s entirely okay that you feel like this.” Regulus said, releasing James’ hand from his grip. James’ shook his hand out, finally getting feeling back in his fingers. You gave Regulus a small smile.
“Regulus, love of my life, can I please eat your face?” Regulus smiled at you, nodding his head. You quickly made your way around the coffee table to lightly peck Regulus’ lips. You moved past Regulus to kiss James as well. You squeezed yourself between the two of them. Regulus rested his head on your shoulder, moving your hand to play with in his lap. James pressed himself against you, smushing his cheek against yours.
“I'm the love of your life too, right?” James asked, his words rolling onto your cheek. You hummed.
“Yes, Jamie.” Regulus interrupted your sweet moment.
“James, do me a favor and go get my ice cream.” James let out a loud gasp, jumping out of his seat and jogging towards the kitchen.
“My smoothie!” You wrapped your arms around Regulus, kissing his temple.
“I wasn’t insulting your shirt before, by the way.” You whispered into his hair. Regulus nodded against your arm.
“Is his smoothie worthy of stealing?” You muttered as quietly as you could so James didn’t hear you. Regulus let out a snort.
“Oh fuck no.” Regulus said before adding “I’ll give you a few bites of my ice cream.” You gasped, smacking a kiss to the apple of his cheek.
“You’re so kind.” Regulus groaned at your words.
“Not really being kind. It’s my reward for being brave, as James said. And I know that was probably scary for you so technically speaking you do deserve some of it. It has nothing to do with me it's just like the rules.” Regulus said, trying to cover up that he might actually have a heart.
“Right, the rules.” Regulus hummed. James soon returned with his smoothie and shockingly two bowls of ice cream. He handed one to you and one to Regulus. You three sat on the couch as you finished your sweet treats and smoothie. Even though technically speaking your reward was already given to you, Regulus’ spoon would randomly stick out toward you. You thanked Regulus with a peck on his cheek after each spoonful. Eventually, when his bowl was empty your spoon would jut out towards him, he was quite brave coming out to you today. James seemed to notice the food sharing, offering up a sip of his smoothie. You and Regulus both grimaced at him in sync before turning back to your bowl.
#jegulus x reader#poly jegulus x reader#poly!jegulus x reader#james potter x y/n#regulus black x james potter#regulus x james#james x reader#james potter x regulus black#trans james potter#james potter x reader#james x regulus#james potter#james potter x you#regulus x reader#regulus black x#regulus black x reader#regulus black#trans regulus#james loves regulus#regulus black x y/n#regulus black x you#trans regulus black#mauraders#marauders fic#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#the marauders era#jegulus
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Unintended Beneficiaries
*Follow-up of People We Leave Behind*
"Holy shit," Cleon muttered as she looked down at the paperwork in front of them, laying so innocently on the polished wood desk.
Mercy shifted in her seat, pulled on the too-short sleeves of the tweed jacket they found at a thrift store last minute. Cleon decided that they needed to look more presentable once she saw the address of the bank - financial advisor, technically. Said financial advisor - Mr. Barnaby who Mercy vaguely recognized and who smiled at her, asked about her schooling - had left to go finish up the paperwork and withdrawal for the first bit of money Mercy asked for.
"Holy shit, Mercy, this is- this is more than money," Cleon looked at her, eyes wide.
"Yeah..." Mercy shifted, again. She didn't know what to do with her hands as Cleon kept staring at her.
When they sat down, Mr. Barnaby had started on about the shares of some buildings Mercy shared with her younger siblings. Then, how well her investments were doing.
"Your mother was a smart one," Mr. Barnaby had laughed. "She liked those volatile stocks, but they've done well. Eh, mostly, one or two were a bit of a wash, but it barely impacted your overall portfolio. We sold some early last year for you, gave you a good boost - your father approved that management style, of course, but we can discuss that if you'd like to change it-"
That wasn't even beginning to talk about the straight cash inheritance from her father's accounts, which is what they were withdrawing from that day.
"I don't even- You need to keep him," Cleon gestured to the door, referring to Mr. Barnaby. "I mean- Jesus, investments?! You own buildings." Cleon looked at her once more, eyes wide. "You could do whatever the fuck you want."
Yeah. Mercy was getting the sense of that with these papers.
"I wasn't supposed to," Mercy said. Matter of fact, staring down at the paperwork with her name printed neatly under Beneficiary. At Cleon's confusion, she continued. "They had a clause that Cheryl could challenge the trust, if I didn't graduate high school. If I didn't go to college. Before I turned twenty-one, Cheryl could challenge it and it would all go to my siblings. She was dumb enough to let that pass, though...so..."
Cleon shook her head. Rubbed a hand over her face as she leaned back in the chair, "I cannot- Holy shit. Holy fuck, I should not be here."
That startled Mercy. "What?"
"I should not be here. You- this is crazy money. This is real money. I thought- I thought we were talking, like, a lot of money, but...this- this is set you up for life money. This is run away upstate and buy a fucking house money." Cleon stared at the papers, still disbelieving. "Between the investments. The buildings. You and Swan...you could have a life. A real life."
Mercy stared at Cleon. "I don't want that life."
"Mercy-"
"I still have the money. I can make life easier for us. For all of us, but I'm not leaving. And you're crazy if you think Swan would let me take her away from Coney," Mercy said.
"You should at least talk about it with her."
"We already talked about it."
"Yeah, when you were vastly underestimating how much money this was!" Cleon once again shook her head, as if she could barely believe the situation, a somewhat dazed movement. "You shouldn't waste it-"
"Shouldn't you be considering our previous plans less of a waste, since it's way more than we thought?" Mercy asked. "Besides, it's generative. According to those numbers, it'll recuperate within six months."
Cleon blinked, owlishly, as she realized Mercy was right. "That is a disgusting fact. How are you making money with it just sitting there, that doesn't make any damn sense?"
Mercy just shrugged. She never understood much about this stuff, either.
Mr. Barnaby returned with the envelope of cash and the small new checkbook.
"Do you have a car waiting outside for you?" He asked as he handed the items to Mercy. "We'll be happy to call one for you, but I must insist on you not taking the subway with this much on you. Remind me next time you come in to set you up with a debit card! I won't bore you with all the details now, but it truly is ingenious."
"We have some friends waiting for us," Mercy smiled and, as he walked them out of the building, sincerely hoped none of the Riffs chose to stand outside of the car in their colors.
Fortunately, they did not, though Barnaby did seem rather perplexed as he watched her and Cleon get in the car.
"Did it go well?" Masai asked as they began the drive back to Coney.
"Eh. Well enough," Cleon said, ever calm and collected.
Mercy felt like her pocket was on fire.
No one said anything as Cleon described the meeting, Mercy sitting on the couch, holding the envelope of cash. The envelope of more cash than they initially planned on withdrawing. Far more.
It was silent, everyone staring at Cleon or Mercy once Cleon finished.
"Wow," Cowgirl all but whispered, breaking the tense atmosphere.
Ajax barked out a laugh, incredulous and shocked. "Wow is fucking right! I mean- damn. What do we do now? Buy the island?"
"We are not buying Coney Island and we aren't doing anything," Swan narrowed her eyes. "It's Mercy's money."
"Aw, no fair, that means Swan's gonna get all the shit," Ajax whined, kind of teasing, but Mercy could watch as everyone started to come to the same conclusions Cleon had.
This was way more money than Mercy assumed. This was more money than any of them thought they would see in their whole lifetimes. This was money that could get them killed if any gang got even a hint that they had it, even the Riffs, even with the alliance.
Mercy set her jaw. Opened the envelope and started counting while feeling heavy eyes on her. She pulled out a good majority of the envelope, a healthy amount left over, but a good amount now in hand.
And handed it to Cleon.
"What the fuck." Cleon stared at it.
"That should be enough for rent for the year."
"This is way more than our-"
"For all the apartments. Use it for that or put it in the pot, but...If that's okay." And now Mercy felt self-conscious. "I mean, it's not like I earned that. And, really, my father would have hated this, you're doing me a favor-"
"Oooooh, we could break our lease and get a place without roaches!" Cowgirl exclaimed. "Cleon, please, please let us use that money to break our lease. I am sick of the bugs!"
"We talked about this," Cleon kept her voice low as she looked at Mercy.
"This is what I want to do," Mercy said. "I want to help my family. Let me."
"I cannot believe I am letting you do this," Cleon muttered under her breath, her eyes closed, before opening them once again. "All right. Okay. Rent is cleared for- Yeah. Uh. Cowgirl, Cochise. You can break your lease and- Mercy, we are having a conversation about money, because I am starting to think you don't have a clue what things cost if you think this is how much are rent is."
"Yesssss, no more bugs," Cowgirl cheered to herself.
"They are not that bad," Cochise said.
"Yeah. You lived in the jungle for two years. You don't get an opinion."
"I lived in an army hospital."
"Army field hospital and you have described the bugs-"
It was a weird feeling, having the money. Toeing the line between wanting to spend it on the people she cared about, but also not insulting them. Making sure no one felt like it was charity.
Like when Rembrandt complained about her cans on a tagging mission and Mercy spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how to offer to buy her new cans.
It ended with Rembrandt catching her trying to read the label on her current cans.
"The fuck are you doing?" Rembrandt asked. Not even mad, really, but bemused.
"Do you want new cans?" Mercy blurted out, because this was already awkward.
Rembrandt blinked at her. And then - realization. "Oh, my God. Yes. Yes, I do."
And...
Well.
They went a bit crazy at the art supplies store the next morning. They dropped them in the middle of the living room and Mercy helped Rembrandt sort it all into three separate art bags. One for tagging, one for her murals, and one for her at-home-only supplies.
"...What happened in here?" Mercy startled at Ajax's voice, looking up to see Cleon, Swan, and Ajax all staring at them.
"Art," Rembrandt said in the most gremlin like voice Mercy had ever heard in her life. "So much art. I got the fancy spray paint." Rembrandt laughed. Maniacally. "It'll take at least three layers of paint to cover it."
Oh, boy.
"I think you broke my girlfriend," Ajax said after a moment.
"I'm sorry." Mercy wasn't, not really, but there wasn't anything else to say really.
"Don't be. Yet. Do those cans need special masks?"
"I got them in five different colors," Rembrandt held up the special masks.
Ajax covered her mouth, very clearly trying not to laugh as she nodded slowly and managed to say. "That's great."
Then, that night, a night that Cleon had decided was to be for fun and bonding and going out, Mercy tried to subtly slide more money into the piles Cleon was making for everyone.
"I can see you," Cleon said, not looking up from her pile making. Mercy stood, stock still, money still in hand as Cleon looked at her. Cleon rolled her eyes and held out her hand, "You are ridiculous."
That night, Cochise raised a suspicious eyebrow at her portion. Then, to Mercy's horror, "Dead dad money?"
"We are not calling it that," Swan said immediately.
"My father was against women drinking," Mercy tried to explain.
Ajax's head immediately whipped towards Mercy. "He was against women drinking?"
Mercy shrugged. "He said it was immodest."
Ajax nodded slowly. "Yep. Okay, let's get blasted on dead dad money."
"We are not calling it that!" Swan insisted, but Ajax was already in the bar. "Jesus Christ."
"We can call it that, I don't mind," Mercy promised at they went in themselves. "I didn't like the guy anyway."
Swan shook her head. "Its not that. If we start running around talking about dead dad money in our colors, someone's going to think we killed him."
Mercy considered it. "Yeah. Probably for the best we don't do that, his death was suspicious enough already."
Swan paused. Looked at Mercy. Looked away. Looked at Mercy.
"I'm kidding," Mercy smiled.
"You are the worst."
"Eh, I'll buy you a drink to make up for it."
"Yeah, with dead dad money."
Which was the worst time for Swan to make that joke, because there was Ajax suddenly, handing them both drinks and saying, "We aren't calling it that, Swanie."
"Oh, fucking bite me," Swan grumbled, before slamming back the drink.
It was three days later when Mercy dragged Swan into a bookstore.
"What are we doing here?" Swan asked.
"Books."
Swan eyed her. "You don't like reading that much."
"But you do," Mercy said. "And...we do have Dead Dad money."
Swan rolled her lips, eyes darting between Mercy and the rest of the store. "Will you stop calling it that if I say yes?"
"Probably not," Mercy smiled.
Swan picked out books, anyways. Not as many as Mercy urged her to, but enough to satisfy Mercy.
"You don't need to do this," Swan said as they left the store. "The library is good."
"The library's great," Mercy checked Swan's shoulder gently. "C'mon. I don't get to spoil you a lot, let me?"
And Swan did not say anything to that, but the red on her cheeks said more than enough.
It wasn't always big things or fun things. It wasn't always trips to the art store or nights out.
It was getting to go to the Urgent Care instead of the free clinic when Cowgirl twisted her ankle going down a fire escape.
It was buying the nice butter or multiple kinds of ice cream for the apartment.
It was being able to turn down jobs when they needed to. Like when Ajax and Swan both came down with the flu at the same time.
That had been miserable, even with the medicine from the fancy aisle at the pharmacy.
Over the months, though, the Warriors got used to having their fall back. They got used to having a bit of fun here and there. Subtle fun, because no one else needed to know.
But fun all the same.
In the back of Mercy's mind, though, she knew that this did not come without strings. There was nothing Cheryl could do, she went back and triple checked with Mr. Barnaby, explained the situation in the vaguest of terms. Cheryl could not touch the money.
"I must tell you, though, when your siblings turn eighteen, you will be in contact with them," Mr. Barnaby said. "It's simply the nature of how your father split his real estate assets."
Mercy considered it. "Can I sell them? When they turn eighteen?"
Mr. Barnaby shook his head. "Not without a discussion with them. They have right of first refusal."
Fantastic.
"What about before?"
"Then that would be a conversation with your stepmother."
Amazing.
So. Yeah. The money meant not being able to leave that family behind. But it also meant being able to safeguard her family.
And that would always be more important.
#warriors concept album#warriors musical#my writing#mercy the warriors#swan the warriors#swercy fanfic#swercy
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Something About a Birthmark
[ A/N ] - this is the first fic that I have written for Harry I decided to make a new blog to share content on and I’m hoping you all enjoy it. I have lots of ideas, but don’t hesitate to talk to me :) the reader in this blurb is suggested to be black, but I left it pretty vague, so anyone can follow along and enjoy!
EDIT! part 2 is here "From Birthmarks to Pancakes"
[ Pairing ] - Harry Styles x Reader!
[ Genre ] - Fluff and slightly suggestive at the end
[ Masterlist ]
///
Never could the sunshine look more beautiful than it did when it glistened upon your skin. The sky was clear and the heat was comforting against Harry’s own skin as he sat on the blanket you placed in the grass. You were laying down reading just next to him. The pages flipped in the low wind every so often but you kept a hand on the right side to keep your place. Dark hair covered your neck and went around your shoulders too. Leaning forward Harry lifted the hair away from your face.
“Let me get a good look at you.”
His voice was low as he spoke but you hear him just fine and the words lifted a smile onto your focused face. The grass tucked between the blanket and your bodies shifted around as you giggled. Looking up at Harry through squinting eyes you thought he looked like an angel from down there. His brown curls sat atop his head and his silhouette was illuminated by the sun. Turing to lay on your back you twisted with your head near his lap.
“How am I looking?”
You teased him for his previous statement and smiled cheekily as his hand came to the side of your face. Harry hummed as he looked down at you. Brown skin glowing soft hair and plump lips curved into your cheeks. The necklace he gave you as a gift dancing between your breasts that were covered by the bikini top that you insisted on wearing outside in your back yard. You were so soft to the touch. The shorts you had on exposed your thighs and sat just below your bellybutton. Light brown stretch marks snaked along the sides of the dimpled skin of your belly.
“Perfect darling.” A small smile followed shortly after.
Both you and Harry often wondered what you did to deserve each other. To be so deserving of having a partner who understood what the need to be seen felt like. You didn’t always feel perfect but Harry made sure you knew how he felt about you.
“You know I love you, right?” You always did that. Asked if he knew of your love for him. Harry nodded and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.
“And you know I love you.”
Sappy. The air around the two of you was soaked in emotion. It had to be. You wouldn’t see him for some time again when he returns to tour. You wanted to know what it would be like to love him everyday not just when you both had time. Eventually that time would come and both you and Harry waited for it with baited breath.
The pair of you relished the comforting silence for a while before Harry laid down next to you. He had on shorts that sat low in his hips almost exposing the tattoos on his hips. You watched him before you said anything more. How the muscles of his torso and back stretched and how he flipped onto his back before covering his eyes with one hand and part of his bare chest with the other.
Harry settled back into the blanket and you found a new place on top of him. Legs in either side of his. Your knees brushed against his sides and it ticked him a bit at first.
“We’ll hello again.” Harry chuckled and placed his hands atop your thighs. His head propped up on a bag you carried snacks outside in. Green eyes looked in yours as you began tracing along his inked skin.
“Would you ever get one that reminded you of me?” You hesitated a little before you asked. Harry looked down at his assortment of art and words that adorned his body. He thought perhaps maybe one day he would.
“Yeah..s��pose.” His eyes returned to you sitting on him. He moved his right hand to your hip and his fingers trailed along your side.
“Hard to forget you though.” Your face grew warm at his statement and you smiled at the man beneath you. After a few seconds you noticed his fingers stopped on your birthmark. The skin was darker and near your navel. Splotched in the shape of what looked to be a love heart. Harry loved it. Ever since he saw it the first time he’s placed kisses atop the dark skin.
“Harry, stop staring at it.” You began to feel embarrassed about his inspection of your birthmark.
“m not staring at you, m admiring you.” Harry spoke with confidence. He enjoyed every inch of you especially this one and he wanted you to know that.
“Now I saw you brought some fruit out here.” Harry questioned so you could get your mind off the embarrassment. It seemed to work. You twisted around and picked up a plastic bowl of mixed fruit. Holding it up you picked out a strawberry and held it up to Harry’s face for him to get a bite.
“Mmm mm you first darling.”
It had to be the way you ate them. How your lips formed around the fruit. Parting slightly so the whites of your teeth peeked slightly before sinking into red flesh. The juice being left on your bottom lip and your pink tongue pulling it back into your mouth. It was on the verge of being obscene. And soon Harry would think of other things for your lips to be puckered around. You took the half wren fruit from your lips and placed it back into his. Opening his mouth Harry let you feed it to him. The subtle sweetness reminded him of you and how you tasted. His mind would soon wander to more, succulent places but for now he just wanted to lay here with you as you fed him strawberries.
#harry styles#Harry Styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x black!reader#harry styles one shot#one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#hslot 2023#harry styles and y/n#fanfic#Harry styles x reader smut#harry styles fanfiction
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Legend of the Selkie and the Pirate
Am I a dumbass for starting another story? Yes. Do I care? No.
This will be a bit like Cats & Ships where we switch POV, but also inspired by prompts I found in an old document.
Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)
Rating: Teen/mature (we have non-graphic nudity stated)
Part one of ?
Pairing: Buggy/Selkie!Reader
Warnings: Violence, hinted attempts at sexual assult by background characters. Followed by... more violence.
The seal I personally imagine is the leopard seal, but I try to be nondescriptive so you can have your own ideas.
Summary: Even in a world of monsters, devil fruits, pirates, and fishmen, selkies were considered a myth. Especially in the East Blue where the waters were too warm for seals to live anyways.
Except that myths were always seeded with truths, and stories always had a habit of coming to life.
Alternate Summary: You thought it would be easy to follow the stars home to the Arctic when you ended up far too south. Unfortunately, you were wrong.
Fortunately, another kind of star kept pulling you in-- the Flashy Fool: Buggy the Clown.
Unfortunately, this also leads you to question where 'home' really is.
(Meanwhile, Buggy is likewise conflicted. He handles it poorly.)
Ao3 | masterpost
Prompt: Dreams/Nightmares
For Buggy, he swore it was a dream the first time he met you. It was some nameless town whose populace proved less than thrilled by their not so free entertainment. Even though his freaks had put on an extremely flashy show, the townspeople had barely clapped.
Watching the waves lap at the rocky beach under the full moon, dreaming of the treasure lost beneath (that he would never be able to reach) was still one of his favorite ways to unwind after a long day. Even if the sea hated him, he was still in love with it.
Yet that night something else broke the waves other than rocks or a boat.
A seal.
That instantly caught his attention. He hadn't seen a seal this far in the East Blue, and only had vague recollections of seeing them when serving with Gol D. Rodgers’ crew in the colder waters of the poles.
Yet before he could ponder that oddity for long, things became weirder as the seal shifted, its skin becoming nothing more than a cloak over a woman's shoulders.
A very curvy, naked, woman.
His eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at the stars, a frown on her face and apparently unaware that she had company on the small beach.
Well, he had to fix that, didn't he?
~*~
For you, that night was a living nightmare.
You gazed up at the stars, comparing them to the map you had (somewhat) memorized of the stars back home.
You… were lost. You were very lost.
"Mother Sea," you swore, rubbing your face as you tried to think. If the North Star was there, then you were… to the southwest? Or southeast?
Well, too south either way.
(What if that wasn’t even the north star?)
"And what do we have here?"
You froze at the unfamiliar voice, pulling your seal-skin closer as you turned. You had been warned about land-kind (humans and fishmen both) stealing one's furs right off one's back and using it as blackmail for all sorts of things.
This one was human, you decided, judging by the tall thin form walking out of the shadows. (How did they survive without any meat on their bones to keep them warm?) Though you hadn't seen a human with a bright red nose like that… or strange markings on their face…
Then again, you hadn't seen many humans this close either. Usually it was as a seal, and they were washed out by the bright light of the sun.
You bared your teeth at him in a snarl as he walked closer, causing you to inch closer to the sea. "Back, human! Or I'll bite your hand off."
Oddly, the human smiled, apparently amused by your words. With a flourish, he snapped his wrist and the rest of the hand came flying towards you, making you scramble backwards with a startled yelp.
"Already off, sweetheart," he laughed as he booped your nose. "So let's try again. Who, and what, are you?"
You didn't think, not when waves washed over your feet beckoning you home. (To safety, at least. These waters were too warm to be home.) You turned and melded back with your furs, ignoring the sharp yell behind you as you splashed into the waters.
Prompt: Avarice
Buggy was a greedy man, he could fully admit to that. Greedy for wealth, fame, power. Just like every other pirate, really.
"You collect freaks, right?" The man pleaded as Ritchie dropped him at the pirate captain's feet. "I-I have a freak for you!"
Despite the smile on his face, Buggy felt something twist unpleasantly in his stomach (or maybe something hadn't connected just right?). "You want to trade another's life for your own?"
His freaks weren't slaves. Sure, he was their captain and they obeyed them, but it was voluntary… mostly. Usually.
They could leave any time was the point.
And implying anything else already had condemned the man’s life. But then he led him back to the small merchant ship and pulled the so-called fream from the storage space from the hull of the tiny ship.
Chains bound your wrists, your mouth gagged with a strip of fabric. Dressed in nothing but a literal sackcloth.
But Buggy was enticed by those dark wide eyes. So full of rage. It took a moment, but the clown-pirate recognized you from that moonlit cove just a few nights before. The mottled skin, oddly-sharp teeth. Those squishable curves.
"--A real life selkie,” the merchant continued. “Her coat’s on another ship, just to make sure she didn't grab it. But--"
His words were cut off as Buggy grabbed his throat despite the space between them. "I accept,” Buggy grinned as he looked at the merchant. “Her life for yours. Except she gets to keep hers. You don't. Not unless you can swim."
Buggy's hand carried him a few yards over the open ocean before dropping him, causing the pirate crew to laugh as the man struggled in the water. Meanwhile, the clown-pirate looked back at the woman, easily seeing the tell-tale signs of fear despite the attempts to cover it with anger.
Selkie? At first he wanted to scoff: those things were a myth. He remembered listening to the other pirates of his youth tell stories of beings that lived in towards the poles and looked like seals, but could shed their skin and become human.
Which is exactly what he had seen that night. And after all, the Chop-Chop Fruit was supposedly a myth too.
He stepped closer, carefully studying the odd mottling of your skin, your just-a-bit-too-wide eyes, and the sharp teeth trying to gnaw through your binding.
"If you bite, I get to bite back," he jested with a grin before undoing the gag, wondering if you even remembered him from the beach.
He half expected you to snap or spit considering the expression on your face, but you did neither as you adjusted to no longer having the cloth in your mouth. "Water?" You asked after a moment, your voice sounding like someone who had screamed themself hoarse. "Please?"
His grin softened slightly, becoming just slightly less manic. “Well, since you used the magic word.”
Prompt: Difference
Not having your furs made you… jumpy. It was like a piece of you was missing, which did not make your odd situation any better. You weren't one that typically socialized with those of the land. So being stuck on a ship with a motley pirate crew was certainly an… experience.
Not a bad one per say, you actually were enjoying learning so much about their culture as you did small tasks about the ship to help out (your title was apparently chore-girl, or so it seemed). Most of the pirates were friendly enough, either asking questions or just ignoring you.
A few you had to show that you were not as defenseless as you looked when they cornered you looking for 'special favors,' having heard ridiculous rumors about your kind.
That, and apparently some human saw a naked person and presumed they were interested in sexual intercourse.
Cabaji had been kind enough to provide you with more 'appropriate clothes' after that. Leading you away while their Captain reminded the idiots of their manners. (Granted, the fact the hand you had bit off was not going to return was probably punishment enough.)
It was easy to tell their captain, Buggy, was… different. For one, he could detach his body parts and send them flying as if a puppet on a string. (Devil fruit, some old memory in your mind spoke. Forsaken by mother sea and cursed by the Sea Devil himself. But you pushed such childish stories away.)
But just the way he acted. Talked. It was different and had caught your attention in more ways than one. He may have been as thin as a piece of kelp, but he proved to be far stronger than he appeared.
(Okay, you would admit it. He was handsome and charming. For a human.)
You tried to convince yourself that all you cared about was the agreement you had reached after they had rescued you from the merchant ship: "We get your fur back, you do a little diving for us for some sunken treasure. It's a win-win."
But even if you were able to find you fur like they promised, you were still so very lost. And unlike the others, the crew was welcoming. Buggy was welcoming.
Not like the men who had caught you unaware while you had been trying to cool down from the hot tropical sun.
You gazed up at the night sky, trying so hard to find something familiar and failing. You hoped it was just the bright moon and clouds partially obscuring the night.
"Starting to think you’re a night owl." There was the tap on your shoulder, yet all that met you was a waving gloved hand that booped your nose before pointing to your other side.
Buggy had his usual grin on his painted face (another human thing you were slowly getting used to) as he raised the arm missing its hand. It was so odd to see it return to its proper place and loom as if it had never left. "I heard Mohji had you bathe and groom Ritchie, so I would figure you'd be exhausted after that disaster."
You shrugged your shoulders. Trying to wash the lion had been fun, considering the cat hated the water. And afterwards, all Ritchie wanted to do was play as you tried to comb out his fur. And yet… "It's… hard to sleep." So many thoughts and worries constantly running through your head. Missing the heavy warmth of your fur.
Missing being able to just swim to help relax. You knew humans swam, but how was a mystery to you.
Buggy nodded as if he understood while he leaned against the rail of the ship, looking out over the waters. And you'd be a liar if you didn't take an extra minute to appreciate his form; long legs crossed, that thin lean body stretched out and muscular forearms braced against the wood.
"I can help tire you out, if you want," he offered as he caught you staring, his grin wide as could be, punctuating his words with a wink.
You had a feeling that it was a joke--as most things were with him-- though you didn't quite get the punchline. You tilted your head curiously, mimicking his pose as you waited for him to elaborate.
Only his smile faded once he realized his joke didn't land quite right. "Geez, give a man a beautiful gal and she's as innocent as a lamb," he muttered under his breath.
"It's not my fault your humor is… different," you defended. "I'd like to see how you do if you were around my kind."
"Can't swim," he grinned yet again, but one of those smiles that didn't feel sincere. It was a kind that reminded you of a threat, though you had never felt anything akin to fear when around him. "Pretty sure I'd end up as fish food." He paused before tilting his head thoughtfully. "Selkie food?"
You shouldered him playfully before snapping your teeth at him. "Yes. Because our favorite food is pirates. Especially those with big red noses."
His demeanor changed quickly, which you did not anticipate. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a dark look that seemed unnatural on his face. "I'll give you this time just because you're you, but no nose jokes." He growled threateningly, making you instinctively back up.
"I-okay?" You offered placatingly. "I'm sorry? I don't understand, but I won't say anything more, promise." The last thing you needed was him upset and throwing you overboard without your fur.
Nevermind the fact you didn't want to upset him even if you could swim.
He glanced over you for a moment before his expression switched again, and he was soon ruffling your hair. "Relax doll. It's just a tender subject."
You nodded silently, slowly relaxing but still on edge as well. You had seen his tempers, and don't particularly want that directed at you. "... for what it's worth, I think it's perfectly fine." You couldn't help but state, looking back at the inky black waters.
Buggy huffed dryly. "You thought Mohji's little bear ears were real, so forgive me if I don't use you as a reference on what looks 'perfectly fine.'"
You blushed as you sunk lower against the rail. "How was I supposed to know?" You had been so confused to see him with his hair flattened by the sudden rainstorm a few days prior. Which had been a riot to the rest of the crew, apparently.
"Damn it,” Buggy swore under his breath. “You're lucky you're just...adorable." There was a hand at your opposite hip that suddenly pulled you into Buggy's side, his arm already waiting to wrap around your waist. "I could just eat you up."
You squealed as he nipped at your ear playfully, continuing the little joke between you. Yes, you threatened to bite him that first meeting, but it… was also a way your kind established and kept bonds between friends. Family.
Mates.
Not that he would know that. It was just a game to him. And you would happily keep it that way.
Prompt: Child
Buggy had to admit, despite the fact you were obviously a fully grown woman, there were times it was hard to see you as anything more than a child.
Especially those wide eyes of yours opened in wonder as you marveled over such simple things like electricity or Cabji's unicycle. Granted, it did wonders for the egos of him and his freaks to have such a beautiful gal clap enthusiastically during training, complete with delighted laughter that needed no prompting.
Okay, it was very intoxicating the way you watched. Like he was the most amazing thing you had seen. Forget the spotlight, he wanted the light in your eyes to always remain on him. He wanted to hear you laugh. He wanted to see your smile.
He wanted all of it.
(God it was so hard not flirting with you. He was a pirate, but he did have his own code of somewhat-honor. And you were thoroughly making him want to rip it to shreds because of the mix signals you sent.)
And then came the times where it was clear that while you had a child-like wonder, you were far from defenseless. Those teeth weren't just for show as you proved when an idiot tried to cop a feel.
You weren't kidding that night when you threatened to bite his hand off. He wasn't even sure how you managed to bite the man's hand clean off, but you did. By the time he arrived to the startled gathering crowd, blood smeared your face like a mockery of his own makeup and the ex-crewman was wailing as he held a stump of his hand.
The crewman shortly went overboard while level-headed Cabji found you some less provocative clothing. And he warned the rest of the crew that if anyone tried that again, he'd let you do as you please.
Even if it was ripping out their throat.
At the time the thought was a bit of an exaggeration. Especially as weeks past and he got to know you better. Your violent side was forgotten even as you'd smile and playfully nip at him with those sharp teeth. You were you, after all. Innocent as a lamb…
And then they finally hunted down the fisherman who had your fur.
Even Ritchie shirked back as you took your revenge, and Buggy was both disturbed and uncomfortably aroused. He hadn't realized how sharp your nails were. How quick you were on land. How vicious you were.
There was no mercy. And by the time you had your dark silvery fur wrapped around your shoulders like a cozy blanket, most of your body was painted red with the blood of your victims.
"Join my circus," he offered as soon as your eyes landed on him. If only to stop him from begging you for something else as he stepped forward over the tattered remains of those who had wronged you, his arms spread as wide as his grin. "Join my crew." (Be with me forever. Stay by my side. Don’t leave me.)
And for a moment, he thought you would take his offer, as you turned towards him, hand partially raised to take one of his. He already had planned that as soon as you touched him, he'd pull you into a hug. To hear you squeal with surprise and laughter. He looked forward to feeling those full curves pressed against his body, the soft warmth radiating from you.
His crew would be even flashier with a selkie. Such a beautiful deadly creature. Being. Person. He didn't even care what roll you took on, you would be amazing. You brought a new spark of life to his crew, and he needed it to stay.
But your hand dropped along with your expression as you stepped away from him. That light in your eyes shifted as you looked away, pulling your fur close to your body. "We had a deal. I'll gather treasure from the seafloor for you, but then I-I should go home."
It was like you had ripped his heart out, and he couldn't will it back into his body. He lowered his arms, though he didn't dare let his smile fall.
No one could know how disappointed he was. Or the fact you had just completely devastated him. "Right. Back to your little selkie pals, even though I haven't seen a single one of them trying to help you. Not like we have. We take care of our own, we'd take care of you."
Okay, maybe a little of his anger seeped out, judging how you shied away. "I'm lost,” you tried to defend. “They don't know where I am, or what happened."
It didn’t settle well with him. Because if you were his, he'd scout the whole four seas for you. Fuck a map, he'd go to the Grand Line blind to look for you. Raid the entire Red Line.
But you weren't. And you would never be.
Because his crew weren’t prisoners. “Okay then, doll face. A deal’s a deal, and it’s time to uphold your end.”
Prompt: Running Away
How could someone look the absolute same, yet act so differently?
Tension filled the air when you returned to the ship. Even though you had your fur and should feel complete, you felt… wrong as Buggy all but ignored you, snapping at the crew to take the ship to wherever you would finish your end of the deal.
Was he that mad that you turned down his offer?
But… you didn't belong here. Not just aboard the ship, surrounded by landkind. But in their whole society. You kept messing up, you were the odd one out. You couldn't contribute any to their circus acts.
Besides, they had seen you overreact to knowing you had found the ones who had stolen your fur. Even after washing yourself as good as you could with a cloth and basin full of water, scrubbing until your skin felt raw, you still could smell the coppery tinge of blood. Taste in your mouth. Remember the feeling of pure bloodlust and rage.
If the crew had tried to interfere, you would have hurt them.
You didn't know if Buggy could recall a limb that had been torn asunder.
Buggy avoided you as the ship tore across the open sea. Before, he would find you several times throughout the day, dragging you to show you something. Or venting about something or another. Or just… teasing you in his own Buggy fashion.
Now it felt like he avoided you.
The crew as well, who would give you looks but usually just left you alone.
You… missed it. How it used to be.
But it was proof you didn't belong. Right?
Finally, after days of awkward silence, you came upon a piece of ocean marked by rocks and shipwrecks. Masts and dark stone raised above the deep blew, rubble crashing upon both as the waves turned wicked.
Finally, Buggy appeared, though avoided looking at you directly, and instead stared at the harsh ocean. "Deadman’s Stacks. Pirates have been trying to use it to escape marines for centuries, often with little luck. Only the best can navigate through the rocky outcropping and the wreckage. And rumor has it, it is a treasure trove beneath the waves."
Cabaji held a bag out to you, "Fill this with whatever you can find, and a deal's a deal."
You took the large rucksack, studying it and making a mental note of how to carry it when in seal form, before glancing at Buggy.
Who was still not looking at you. He used to always catch your gaze with his, and you loved the spark in his dark blue eyes. They were like the tropic seas you had begun to enjoy. Vibrant, warm, playful with a hint of treachery.
Yet now they were as hard and cold as the waters of your home.
You shoved the thoughts and emotions hounding you and quickly stripped the borrowed clothes, feeling the ocean spray briefly as you wrapped your fur around your shoulder.
And jumped overboard.
You heard the start of gasps behind you before you broke the surface of the water, the seal skin furs melting into your body as you changed, senses adjusting to being underwater.
The damage above was nothing compared to below. You couldn't even see the sea floor through the wrecked boats, though the sea life had adjusted and seemed to thrive in the land-kind's ships.
With the strap of the rucksack bitten between your teeth, you dove and searched. Finding the bits and bobbles that the pirates seemed to love and carefully placing them in the bag. Which was hard to do without hands, but you managed.
Time was a foreign concept to you below the ocean,but eventually the rucksack was as full as could be without spilling and you returned to the surface.
To your seal-eyes, everything was overly bright and hazy, but you could make out the large ship at least, swimming toward it. You could hear the crew once they saw you, whooping and hollering in excitement as you drew closer.
You… never thought how you were going to get up.
Just as you realized this, hands gripped your sides just behind your flippers and hiked you up into the air. You bit the strap of the bag in both fear and to keep it from falling as you were lifted up to the deck of the ship.
Into Buggy's arms. You could make out the red of his nose and blue of his hair amongst the bright light, his mouth spread into a grin.
Yet before you could do anything, he had set you down on the wooden deck and gently pried your rucksack from your mouth. Even with your poor senses, you could see and hear them clamoring over the treasures you had brought up.
You had done your end of the bargain. Now it was time to leave. Part of your heart wanted to stay, and threw a fit as you forced your body to wiggle towards the edge.
You heard Buggy call out for you just as you threw yourself overboards, freefalling into the waters below.
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Heyy! I hope this isn't a bother, but I'm absolutely craving some Fyodor x Reader! Sooo, imagine this—Fyodor was your husband in a past life, and now he finds you again in Yokohama, working for either the ADA or PM. Obviously, he can't just let his *wife* be with someone else, right? I’d love to see more of that whole 'immortal x mortal' vibe, ahh! And to keep it true to his character, he calls Reader 'Anna' even though they have a new name now. Hope you have a great day/night! ☺️
(Make him have this yandere 'I'll kill every human that matters to you' vibes as cherry on top🤫)
This is another short one. I tried to pack in as many details as I could, really craft the scene despite that. And, I hope Fyodor is in character, I tried to keep him lmao. I hope that’s clear, and I hope that it sates you! I kept the reader somewhat gender-neutral and vague, and I hope that helps more people enjoy this lil ditty.
Reincarnation wasn’t something Fyodor Dostoevsky usually bought into. The concept came from ancient vedic religions, usually polytheistic ones, which Fyodor didn’t tend to follow closely nor care about. He preferred more monotheistic religions. That way he didn’t have to share the attention and love of his followers with anyone. And, that way, nobody else could think to challenge him.
Yet, as the pale ravenette sat wrapped in his cloak in the lightly busy cafe to watch you politely order your daily coffee and muffin. His violet eyes locked onto you while you stood at the baked-good-littered counter, he knew. The way that you stood, shifted on your feet while you waited on the barista, it was all familiar to the russian who sat with his inky, shoulder-length hair pulled up into a ponytail. You may have not looked quite the same, but he’d learned everything about you in the years you’d been his. So, he knew it was you, reincarnation or not.
How exactly you’d come back?...he couldn’t say, much to his annoyance. But, that didn’t change what he saw now on that chilly winter morning. That didn’t change how easily he recognized your features a week before, and right now. Though, despite how easily he’d recognized you, he knew that you weren’t likely to have the same moment of recognition he had. No. He thought while he watched you thank the barista and make a beeline for the door. Quick to vanish into the flow of civilians to start your shift at work. They would need to fall in love all over again. They don’t remember me.
He sighed at the thought, his eyes returned to the cup of coffee that he had no interest in. The warm fragrance of caffeine mixed with the scents of muffins, cookies, and cakes as he sat at the slightly wobbly table in thought. I’ll need to remind them. Remind her of our time together in the past, and of the vow they made to me. He decided, It’ll take time, but I have plenty of that. The only real threat is their current partner, and their friends. I can’t rely on our childhood bond, she wasn’t raised in any cult in this life, let alone my family’s cult. So, I’ll have to be a bit more ruthless in keeping her attention on me.
He hummed a bit to himself and nodded at his own plan. before he got up and picked up the now-cold coffee he’d ordered at least an hour ago at this point. Just need to get rid of her friends and lovers. Keep her safe until she regains her memories. He thought, a small smile on his lips as he tossed the cup and strolled out into the busy streets of the winter day.
Normally, the cloak-clad russian would follow you to work to judge how friendly you were with your coworkers and boss, but, today he meandered off towards your home instead. The throngs of people alive with chatter, gossip, and complaints of their daily to-dos. Did any of them know you? Were they your best friend? He’d spent the week on a hunt through your internet footprint to find any connections or information he could use. He knew who your friends were, and he recognized nobody as he passed, but that didn’t mean the strangers weren’t somehow aware of you, somehow a threat to Fyodor’s plan.
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