#and ive forgotten how Words work after that

[n7punk]

If there was catradora fic out there that was pretty blatantly copying your work would u wanna know about it?

uhhhh this is a stressful leading question. There's not much I can do about it except ask them to stop and I doubt they would care if they're really "copying". But also like, there's a lot of similarities in AUs, tropes, etc so there's a lot of things I wouldn't consider copying that maybe you could be picking up on (I hope, because it's way better than the alternative). Like when I knew I wanted to write a celebrities AU I avoided reading those AU fics until after, and after DITM I read R&B and realized me and Mal just happened to have a lot of similar ideas about the characters just because of how we interpreted them. And that was basically what kicked off our friendship lol

Anyway if it's like, blatant theft then I guess maybe you can report that to the archive(?) if it's reposting-level but otherwise I don't think there's really anything I have the power to do. It's just a major downer that someone would do that. Which like, I assume they have since you're asking. I don't really go in the tags since I have bookmarks I can go to that I know are good so idk what the general Catradora fandom has been up to on AO3 for a while.

Edit to clarify: like, if someone else writes an AU with a similar premise (and it's not like, as wildly specific as Knifepoint or something), or there's some small details in their fic (like idk accepting the headcanon that Adora hums to purr or whatever) that could have been inspired by me, that's not copying. If they follow my plot beats, use my prose, copy lines etc then it is and that majorly sucks.

On one hand I want to know because I want to see it and go "oh this is fine actually" and on the other hand I don't want to know it's not fine lmao

[taesanrot]

[cool with you] leehan x f!reader | 3.8k words f2l, college au, smut (oral m.receiving, making out), alcohol consumption note. most graphic fic ive written so far so proceed with caution, also sorry to anon for taking so long to write this thank u sm for sending requests! hope u all enjoy :3 @onedoornet

"hey guys, this is my friend, leehan. is it cool if he sits with us?" jaehyun's chirpy voice interrupted the current discussion at your table. looking up, you saw a boy with glasses and fluffy hair smiling shyly.

"is this the guy from your health class, hyung? my name is taesan, whats up?" the long haired boy's slightly quieter presence fit into your group perfectly; you, belle, and taesan being the same age as him only made it easier for him to talk to you guys.

to be honest, with how big of a group you hung out with, leehan and your conversations often got drowned out, you being pulled over to ningning and giselle while leehan was caught up in discussions with shinyu and jaehyun.

while you had nothing against the boy, you never really found yourself with the opportunity to get to know him one-on-one, and his presence in the group was merely an afterthought to you.

…

slumping into a seat in your 9 am lecture, you yawned, already regretting taking a morning math lecture. unluckily, you'd completely forgotten to register for the class until just before the beginning of the semester, leaving you no choice but to sign up for the morning section.

as you begrudgingly pulled out your notebook, your text buzzed with a message.

leehan: is that you?

yn: huh

leehan: in mr.shin's math class

leehan: look behind you

you whipped around to see leehan sitting a couple rows back, waving at you with a small smile. he donned the same black glasses he always wore, hair messily fluffed and his figure draped in a loose hoodie. smiling back, you quickly gathered your things, moving to an empty seat next to him. his eyes widened watching you walk over.

while he was on the shyer side, you most definitely were not. plus, you were more than thrilled to see a familiar face in class.

slightly out of breath from walking over, you whispered to the boy next to you.

"hey, how are you?" you were smoothing your hair down and reorganizing your things as you spoke.

looking down at his sweats, leehan wondered how you managed to look so put together at nine in the morning.

"good, i didn't know you were in this class." the boy replied quietly.

he glanced up slightly to see if the professor had arrived yet. you sucked in a breath seeing the boy up close. his side profile enticed you, but you recovered quickly, not wanting to make a fool of yourself.

"yeah, it's a requirement for my program, i suck at math, though." you frowned slightly, fiddling with your nails.

"don't worry, i can help you out." leehan smiled easily at you, earning a surprised look back.

"what? i like math." he retorted. and with that, you finally got to know the long haired boy beyond the snippets of conversation you two shared at lunches.

the two of you frequently hung out, using the excuse of working on homework to get food together, waste time at the library, or hang out at your apartment.

despite his quieter demeanor, you found that you clicked with the boy well. the two of you talked about anything and everything, whether it was your favorite movies or some dumb prank myungjae decided to play on giselle.

sometimes, you felt like no one else knew leehan as well as you did. or rather, that you were the only one who witnessed this version of leehan -- the person he was around you. the serious and quiet mannerisms he had kept up like a wall fell quickly around you. hearing his name made you think of late nights at the uni library, cold ice cream after a difficult exam, and loud laughter at his stupid jokes.

"what does a mermaid wear on her boobs?" leehan's question pierced the calm silence of your study session. looking up from your laptop, you quirked a brow.

"huh?" you were slightly in a daze, the quick shifting of your attention and the warm air of the courtyard jumbling your thoughts together.

"an algebra!" the boy in front of you barely spat the answer out before bursting into giggles, his honey voice bringing you back to earth. you sighed in fake frustration, making him laugh even harder. he dropped his pencil and notebook to hold his stomach as his laughing fit continued.

in that moment, surrounded by the soft grass of the courtyard and hair blowing in the slow breeze, leehan was a sight to behold. your breathing faltered, lungs utterly failing you as you watched his eyes crinkle adorably and as your ears filled with the sound of his pretty laugh. you felt your heart beating in your ears, bringing a hand to cup your cheek.

it was warm, and you'd be stupid to think the sun was the only reason for it.

…

you tapped the excess powder off your makeup brush delicately, finishing the final touch ups on your makeup for the night. you were sitting in your roommate, belle's, room with ningning and giselle. the four of you were getting ready for a party, like any other friday night.

"here." you clicked the tin of your blush closed as you turned towards giselle, who handed you a shot glass with clear liquid. you grimaced slightly at the sight, looking past giselle's outstretched arm to see your 2 other friends with matching shot glasses and similar looks of disgust.

the four of you clinked your glasses together before throwing back the rancid liquid. your eyes screwed shut and you reached for the nearest beverage to chase the shot.

opening your eyes, you made eye contact with ningning, giggling as she smiled at you.

moving over to stand at belle's desk, you poured another round of shots for your friends, opening your phone to play some music in the background.

2 rounds later, you were satisfied with the level of buzz you felt, sitting next to belle on her bed and leaning a head on her shoulder.

"tired already?" she laughed at you, poking your thigh teasingly. you shook your head.

"can't sleep now, y/n, or you'll miss seeing your boyfriend." ningning's voice was singsongy as she teased you. you pulled your head off of your friend's shoulder to flip ningning off.

"he is not my boyfriend." you protested, cheeks burning at the mention of the long haired boy.

"seriously, y/n, we all see how you guys are together." giselle spoke lazily as she straightened her hair, throwing a sarcastic look at you.

"yeah, it's like you guys are in your own little bubble. it's disgusting actually." belle agreed. before you could land a soft punch on her shoulder, her phone screen lit up with a message.

it was a message from taesan. you couldn't make out the full text, only catching a glimpse of his contact picture.

"speaking of the devil, he and the boys are about to head over there. we should get going." the timing worked out perfectly as giselle had just finished doing her hair and ningning had finally picked out her outfit.

you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, doing a quick once over of your outfit. the denim shorts and white halter top complimented you well, and you smiled triumphantly as you tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

you wondered if leehan would like your outfit, stomach flipping at the idea of seeing him soon. he usually didn't enjoy these types of functions, but the boys convinced him to come for once.

"y/n! hurry your ass up!" giselle's voice snapped you out of your daze, and you ran out the door to catch up to your friends.

…

music pulsed through your veins as you pushed open the door. the party was louder than you expected, and you could barely hear belle yelling at you over the music.

"let's go to the kitchen!" her voice was almost drowned out by the music, and she grabbed you hand to pull you in the right direction.

you friends found a bit of solace in the kitchen, as well as the drinks.

"let's take a round of shots." ningning smiled deviously, pouring out four shots of some clear liquid from a bottle you didn't recognize. somehow you had a feeling tonight was going to be more eventful than usual.

a couple rounds later, you and the girls were sufficiently drunk, finally deciding to look for the rest of your friends. before you could turn and enter the crowd of bodies, you felt someone grab your shoulder and pull you in for a hug.

looking up, you were met with taesan's smiling face, making you laugh and hug him back.

"we thought you guys died!" he yelled drunkenly, moving past you to say hello to the rest of the girls. behind him, you saw shinyu and myungjae's flushed faces. the boys clearly pregamed more than you guys did.

as taesan pulled belle and ningning out into the living room to dance and the rest of your friends filed out behind them, you were left in the kitchen with none other than leehan. he was still standing near the kitchen's entrance.

you walked over to him, almost tripping over your foot in the process.

"hi." you giggled. the long haired boy's eyes widened with concern at your unstable steps, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder.

"how drunk are you?" he asked with a small smile on his face. he thought you looked so cute like this, cheeks slightly pink and eyes crinkled. you shrugged teasingly.

"dunno. did you drink?" he seemed a bit more composed than the other boys.

"yeah, i'm just tipsy though." you nodded in acknowledgement before breaking out into another dazed smile.

despite the intoxication running through your system, the two of you fell into conversation just as easily as usual. your head felt foggy as leehan rambled about his day and how he and the guys had gotten to the party. the boy could read you like a book, noticing the way your eyes looked at him but felt far away.

"what're you thinking about?" he asked curiously. you snapped out of your chaotic thoughts. not uttering a word, you brought your index finger up and lightly pressed the skin underneath the boy's right eye. leehan's eyes widened at your boldness, not knowing what you were going to do next.

"your glasses …" you mumbled. you traced your finger under the boy's eye and across the bridge of his nose, where his thick frames usually sat. it was the first thing you'd noticed when you finally approached him.

"do you miss them?" he asked with a small smile on his face, amused at the way you were so perplexed by the lack of the accessory. you shook your head fervently, confusing him.

"no, i like this." you stated, tapping the bridge of his nose. "i get to see more of you."

leehan felt his ears burning at the sweetness of the words melting off your tongue. you giggled again, he didn't know why.

before you could drop your hand back to your side, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist delicately, eliciting a small gasp from you. breathing slowly, he moved your hand so it cupped his jaw, laying his larger hand over yours.

he slid your fingers down his neck, laying the pads of them over his pulse point. you bit your lip slowly, mind still spinning. you weren't sure if you were imagining it but you swore you could feel his pulse thrumming unimaginely quick under your touch. the mere thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and suddenly the kitchen was too warm and too stuffy.

"can we get out of here?" leehan smiled at your timid question, intertwining his hand with yours and letting them both drop and hang in the small space between the two fo you.

craning his neck to the side, he looked to make sure your friends were okay, sighing in relief at the sight of them all dancing together in the living room. turning back to you, he grinned.

"let's go."

…

leehan’s face is flushed red, and he’s happy it isn’t from the alcohol.

it’s you sitting on his lap so delicately that's making his skin feel like it's burning and his lungs feel like he’s underwater.

your fingers comb into his fluffy hair, ruffling it gently as your lips suck on the soft skin of his neck.

you don’t know how long you’ve been here, kissing leehan all over like you’ll never be able to lay a finger on his pearly skin ever again.

the two of you stumbled into your apartment. you barely even made sure the door was locked before pushing leehan onto your living room couch. as you sat yourself down on his lap, you mentally cursed your friends for how well they knew you — your thoughts when it came to the quiet boy were all but innocent.

his hands landed on your hips easily, tilting his face up so you could capture his lips with yours.

in a drunken stupor you almost missed his lips, but the two of you settled into a rhythm easily, like you'd been doing this forever. leehan's long fingers caressed the exposed skin of your side, brushing up and down until your skin filled with goosebumps.

your arms wrapped around his neck as his tongue brushed your bottom lip, coaxing your lips open. you swore you saw stars as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle brushing the inside of your cheek.

the lewd noises you two were making only egged you on further, and when leehan pulled away to catch his breath you tilted your face and attached your lips to the curve where his neck met his shoulders.

the feeling of your plush lips and warm tongue against his throat pulled a loud moan out of him, and his hands instinctively pressed into your shoulder blades, pulling you into him more and more.

pulling the neck of his shirt down slightly, you moved to his collarbone, biting it softly before stroking it with your tongue. the boy threw his head back, pressing further into the couch as his heart pumped impossibly fast.

while adjusting yourself in his lap to get a better angle, you felt something hard poking your thigh. smiling against his neck, you unclasped your hands that wrapped around his neck and let them drift down. your fingers danced across his chest and abdomen, landing at the waistband of his pants. you captured his lips in another searing kiss as you unbuttoned them clumsily.

before you could get to the last button, leehan pulled his mouth away from yours, large hands landing on top of yours on his crotch.

"are you sure about this? you're still kinda drunk." leehan asked breathlessly. he wanted you, that was without question, but the last thing he wanted to do was ruin your friendship because of some drunken impulsivity.

the corners of your lips curved upward as you looked at the boy catching his breath beneath you. you slipped off on his lap to sit on the floor, hands pushing his knees apart.

"leehan, i've wanted you for so long now. let me make you feel good." you cooed at him, and he moved his hands to help you slip his pants and boxers to his ankles.

his dick sprung out, tip red and leaking, and you spit into your hand lightly before wrapping your hand around the top half. leehan groaned as you ran your thumb over the tip, spreading his slick before giving him a few experimental strokes.

the boy was already shaking, sensitive and aching for your touch. after a few more pumps, you licked your lips and grabbed his hand with your free one, guiding his hand to your neck so he could hold your hair for you.

he complied in a daze, combing his fingers through your hair and holding it back, caressing your neck with his other hand.

you smiled up at him before leaning forward to kiss his swollen tip. something in your stomach burned when you heard him hiss, his grip on your hair tightening slightly.

you delicately wrapped your lips around him, brushing the tip with your tongue once before sinking your mouth further down on him.

a moan ripped through the boy as he felt the warm expanse of your throat. you took as much as you could, wrapping your hand around the last few inches. swallowing harshly, leehan used all of the strength he had to not thrust into your mouth.

you moved languidly on his dick, swallowing more and more. your other hand rested on his hip bone, and the boy removed the hand resting idly on your neck so he could hold your empty hand.

the feeling of your mouth full made you moan, the sound sending vibrations through leehan’s body. he tensed and writhed under you, eyes screwed shut. the sight of him unraveling underneath you only spurred you on even further.

you moved up and down on his length at a quicker pace, his tip hitting the back of your throat in a way that made your name spill from his mouth over and over.

he guided your head slightly so he could keep kissing that spot with his dick, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head.

when you swallowed around him he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming your name.

you could tell he was close by the way he squeezed your hand and the way his abdomen was tensing sporadically.

"where-" the boy stuttered, almost unable to think straight.

"can i cum in your mouth?" he managed to spit out between moans. you tried your best to nod, squeezing his hand.

as his climax approached, leehan’s whole body writhed and you pressed your hand down on his hips. breathing in deeply through your nose, you sank down and took almost all of him, his tip hitting the back of your throat roughly. that was enough to send him over the edge, and his whole body stilled as his vision went white.

his cum spilled into your throat and you gagged slightly before swallowing it all. dragging your tongue on his length, you removed your mouth from him with a pop.

you looked up at leehan as he caught his breath. giggling at his dazed state, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“that was amazing” he breathed out, pulling you back onto his lap.

his hand cupped your neck as he pulled you in for a soft kiss, before pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear. you smiled as you let him smooth down your ruffled hair and wipe the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes.

“gonna go get some water.” you lifted yourself from his lap slowly, stretching out your legs slightly before padding over to the kitchen.

you returned with a glass of water and a pair of oversized sweatpants from your room.

“do you wanna change? i think these might fit.” you asked, thrusting the pants forward in his direction. he stood up slowly, smiling at your gratefully as he nodded, grabbing the sweats and walking to your bathroom.

when he came back out, you were sitting on the couch mid-yawn, having changed into an oversized tshirt and some pj shorts.

turning to meet his eyes, you smiled and stood up. grabbing his hand, you led him to your room, slipping underneath the covers and holding them up so he could join you.

“wanna watch a movie?” your voice pierced the silence, and leehan chuckled. you were adorable. from how droopy your eyes were, he knew you wouldn't be awake for much longer, but he reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your laptop anyways.

after picking a movie, you placed the laptop on leehan's lap, snuggling against his shoulder. he wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and resting his head on top of yours. you tangled your legs with his, sighing in contentment. leehan smiled down at you.

he was right -- within 5 minutes you were asleep, having shifted to lay down fully instead of leaning against your headboard. leehan smiled fondly at your sleeping form. he felt so lucky that you felt the same way about him as he did you.

setting your laptop away and plugging in your phone to charge, the boy shifted so he was laying down next to you, throwing an arm over you. you stirred slightly in your sleep, arms reaching out to hug him and cuddle into his chest.

…

you woke up before leehan, rubbing your bleary eyes. you were still sleeping against his chest, tilting your head up slightly to look at his sleeping face. he looked ethereal, hair mused slightly. as you reached a hand up to smooth down the messy strands, his eyes opened, a smile forming as he made eye contact with you.

"morning." his raspy morning voice made your cheeks burn. him leaning his head down to place a wet kiss to the side of your head didn't help either, and you were sure your ears were cherry red.

"i have an idea." the boy mumbled, and you tilted your head in curiosity. yawning, he tightened his hold on you, nuzzling his cheek against your hair.

"you should let me take you on a date today." you couldn't stop the grin from forming on your face, giggling. you nodded into his chest, pressing yourself further into him and breathing him in.

his fingers suddenly jabbed into your side, making you shriek. you laughed, pushing the boy away from you.

"i wanna hear you say it!" he said teasingly. you were trying and failing at swatting his hands away, eyes crinkling as you smiled.

"yes! yes! i'll go on a date with you." you exclaimed between giggles, sighing in relief as the boy finally stopped tickling you. he grinned, folding you back into his arms and tucking your head under his chin.

"let's sleep a little longer first."

…

while the two of you were still asleep, your friends sat in the dining hall, grabbing lunch.

"look what i have." belle spoke giddily, grabbing the attention of taesan, myungjae, shinyu, giselle, and ningning.

turning her phone around, she showed them a picture of you and leehan asleep in your bed. it was in the early morning, and you were cuddled into his chest.

"that's where he went!"

"i KNEW they were into each other."

"shinyu! you owe me $15 dollars."

it was safe to say the two of you received a plethora of text messages when you finally woke up.

[nouvxllev]

Request!!

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Jenna and R are like on ldr cuz of her work, after mooonthhss, J surprises R by going back home early to her. J gets so worried cuz R isn't in the house, and she can't contact her. R gets home wasted, J confronts her, R breaks down, rambling about how she just misses Jenna, not knowing it is actually Jenna who she was speaking to... she mistakes her to be Emma..😭🙏🏻

unbearable uncertainty

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: request! ^^

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: slight angst? maybe? bittersweet??

a/n: wrote tara carpenter smut then dipped. oh my god, i truly apologize for going on an unknowingly and unbearable hiatus from writing. but on the bright side, i met someone whos truly so special and i cherish the most on here :] thank you for the request and im sorry if ive been holding it back for months!

(ps. ive forgotten how to write entirely, please be patient with me)

Long goodbyes were never easy.

How could Jenna ever forget the last piece of comfort she felt in your arms as you held her for the final time before she boarded the plane? The warmth and security she found when you whispered "I love you" was something she couldn't find elsewhere.

You hugged her so tightly, Jenna felt as if you were trying to fold her into your very being.

You always did that, always have.

But you held her a little longer. Closer, tighter. As if it'll be the last time Jenna falls in love with you. It felt too surreal when she heard your voice started breaking in tears like there was a cloud over your heart Jenna used to bring life in.

She tried to memorize every detail of your face, every line and shadow, every crease and every feature like you were a past lover she's been searching for, she wanted to hold onto each imperfection and perfection as if capturing this moment in her heart could somehow lessen the pain of parting.

When you reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from her cheek, and she leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth that would soon be gone. It was a gesture so tender, so full of love, that it made her heart ache even more.

Would she have done something differently? Perhaps tell you she got it all wrong, tell the producers and chosen to live in peace with you and frolic in some field of flowers like a coming of age movie.

No, she could only swallow the lump in her throat and urge her heart to stop grieving for something that wasn't even dead but merely distant.

Vermont proved to be a cold comfort, like winter for a thousand nights without somebody to hold on, stark contrast to the warmth she'd known for all these months.

The first night was the hardest—cruel, even. As she unpacked her bags in the apartment paid for b the producers, it was a far cry from the home you had shared. Despite its charm for space, it felt emptier than it should've been. A shell.

Jenna remembers lying awake that night, unable to find solace even in the darkness. Each thought weighed heavier than the last, fearing you would grow to resent the fame she would have declined in a heartbeat if given the choice, that loving her had become more of a chore than a joy.

The frequent overseas flights and constant altering of time zones only added to the strain, affecting even how her heart would beat. Conversations became shorter while days grew longer, and only letters and distant updates from you brought reassurance. She missed the moments of quiet intimacy, the laughter shared, and the smile she could reach up and kiss, the comfort of knowing she was always there for you.

It was a constant routine of staring at the ceiling, desperate to imagine your arounds around her and your warm breath against the neck. The loneliness was a crushing weight, far more realistic than a mere idea it was. Unbearable.

She found herself wanting for the familiar warmth and solace that only your presence could provide her. She would watch herself listening for your voice, remembering how you would tell her if she's been overworking, half-expecting to hear your laughter or even a slight tone or maybe even the sound of your footsteps.

She always found small ways to feel connected to you.

The letters you sent were her lifeline. She would read them over and over as if it were new ink, tracing the words with her fingers that carried your thoughts and reassurances, imagining your voice speaking them. Each letter was a piece of you, a reminder that you were thinking of her, missing her just as much.

The voice calls were both a blessing and a curse.

Hearing your voice brought her comfort, but it also made the distance between you feel even more unbearable. She would stay up late into the night, talking to you, laughing with you, sharing her day and listening to yours. But when the call ended, silence would descend, and the emptiness would return with a vengeance. She would lie in bed, clutching the pillow, trying to replay the sound of your voice.

So it was a huge, pain-in-the-ass problem for her, the amount of calls and thousands of sleepless nights with her arms wrapped around a pillow instead of the love of her life was a step away from insanity. It seemed dramatic, but can you blame a girl!? Love always had a way of making seem things insignificant in comparison.

Another grueling month without the love of your life? She couldn't and wouldn't even bear it, you would have to finally cut the two parts of her brain in half and throw away the other one to endure that kind of torture.

So what started as a joke with her finger hovering over the "book flight" button while on the phone with you turned out to be, surprise surprise, not even close to a silly little joke.

She clicked it impulsively, without a second thought or even a first one.

Her heart raced faster than ever with the thought of seeing you again. Feeling your arms around her, hearing you laugh, smile, and talk was all the motivation she needed. It was like a recurring dream you’d betray another day for to live in.

And here she is now, at your place, luggage in hand in the dead of night, looking like she fled the country, with that familiar airport scent still clinging to her clothes and hair. She smelled like whatever hit-terminal coffee it was that day and recycled air.

Jenna's been muttering to herself all evening, "Pick up, pick up, pick up, oh my God, who leaves their house unlocked!?"

Her phone, balanced on her shoulder, was one slip away from hitting the ground, and she was one missed call away from losing it. She imagine the look on your face when you saw her standing there, unannounced yet so desperately wanted, not like wanting to send out a search party for you!

It was voicemail after voicemail, a ring before a cruel tone that mocked her for seconds, the unknowing certainty that something had happened to you.

You’ve been M.I.A ever since she arrived, and the last text she received from you was a breezy, "I’m going out tonight with co-workers" followed by a thousand kisses. The gesture was sweet, but it’s not helping now that it’s 12 fucking a.m. and you’re nowhere to be found.

She paced back and forth in your living room, the anxiety gnawing at her insides and the sharp pain from her palm to her heart had never been so severe.

Every creak of the floorboards made her thoughts race, hoping it was you finally coming home. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by her thoughts replaying your voice. She glanced at the clock on the wall that displayed digits she seriously did not want to see.

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she saw you with her own eyes, until she could touch you and confirm that you were truly safe.

Her hands immediately went back to her phone, wondering if your co-workers would even answer a distress actress concerned about her girlfriend if there was a high and 100% chance they were wasted with you. Obviously, each call went straight to voicemail.

Why is being sent on delivered the most humiliating ever!?

"Fuck," Jenna cursed under her breath, her head lowered in defeat as she stared at the countless of messages she sent to your friends, co-workers, shit even your family!

The only thought going through her head is "thank you for birthing Emma Myers."

emma

just said goodbye shes round the corner

sent one attachment

going back to her place

Even light couldn't travel as fast compared to how quickly Jenna reacted when that attachment processed in her brain. It was a photo of you (thank fuck), looking a bit tipsy, sure, maybe knocked in the head, but you were unharmed, waving goodbye to Emma.

The wave of relief that washed over Jenna felt like an overall baptism—a splash of water to commemorate coming back to a harsher reality than she didn't expect, but reality nonetheless.

She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but she shoved the thought aside. Her focus was on you, and getting to you as fast as possible.

If you weren't going to come back home sooner or later, she'd come to you. Geared up and mentally preparing everything to combat the cold weather, plants of how she would take care of you, and a surprise. Aka, her.

Is what she would've followed through if she didn’t hear the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock.

The sound was so abrupt. Too sudden and swift it nearly made her jump out of her skin unlike any scare people tried on her.

Her heart pounded as she turned towards the door, hoping, begging, and nearly willing the universe to grant her at least one moment of sanity. She watched the door creak open, and there you were—alive. You stumbled in, eyes bleary but safe, and Jenna felt the tension drain from her body as if it had never been there.

"Y/n—!" Jenna's sudden movement was a blur, barely having time to embrace yourself before she collided with you, the force of her embrace nearly knocking out the ragged breath you had left.

You could've noticed the slight tremble in her frame, heart pounding against your chest, and a hand clinging onto your shirt that pulled you closer if you weren't drunk.

“Daaamn, girl, you walk faast! I swear we dropped you at your street?? Why are you in—shit—in my house??” Your voice slurred and you stumbled as if the very act required more effort than you could muster, mind sluggish and your sense dulled, voice thick and unsteady.

You were undeniably and completely fucked. To say the least.

Drunk, Intoxicated. Mentally impaired. Right, how could Jenna even forget that?

You barely managed to step inside when your legs gave out, sending you tumbling to the floor.

The world tilted and spun around you as if you were a sun blinded by its own solar system. Your vision blurred and you struggled to make sense of the swirling images and a familiar blobby brunette girl in your home.

To no surprise, Jenna was at your side in an instant, crouching down with her face filled with concern as she looked you over, her arms reaching out to steady you. "Y/n… Why on earth do you have a huge straight bump on your forehead?"

"I…" you mumbled, blinking up at her. Her face looked like one of those spiky and blobbed images you see through a rain-streaked window. "I was—I was watching one of those 'how to be a good girlfriend in an LDR relationship' videos on the way home. And—and well, there was a pole."

Jenna's expression shifted, concern to curiosity. "What… What? What do you mean? Why? Why are you searching those—"

You felt like your chest was closing in on you, your throat mimicked those of a barren wasteland, and embarrassment washed over you like a tidal wave. You wanted to shrug it off, to laugh and tell her you were just curious, that it was nothing. But you couldn't.

"Because!" you burst out, voice trembling as you looked away from her eyes, "How else am I supposed to believe that I'm good enough when Jenna's halfway across the world? When every time she touches me, it's like she thinks I'm everything you've ever wished for in a star, and I—"

You faltered, your breath catching, the words threatened to slip away from you, but the emotions, doubt and fear—they had been building up for too long. You couldn’t stop now, even if you wanted to.

"I don't deserve it, I'm not enough for her. There's something more that i should be doing, something more I could be, because how can I be enough when she's there and I'm here? I can't hold her, I can't comfort her when she's stressed, I cant show her how much I care every day like I want to. How am I supposed to truly feel that I'm doing fine and she's feeling loved? Every time she tells me that I'm enough, I try to believe her, but—but there's this voice in my head that keeps saying, 'What if she's just saying it? What if one day, she realized she was wrong? That I'm not great, that she's just loving a version of me she created in her head, that she finds a fatal flaw in me that keeps her away from loving me? What if I'm not who she thought I was?"

You can't speak anymore, but your mouth persists in words like a machine. Your eyes already welled up, you bit your lip to stop it from trembling and forming a frown.

"I want to be perfect for her. I want her to feel like she's never missing anything from me or feel like she's falling short from the love she gives me and I give her. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know anything. So I watch those stupid videos to hope I'll find a way to be enough, to finally feel like I am. But no matter what I do, it feels like it'll never be. How can I be it when I'm not with her? How can I be enough from so far away?"

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to reach out, "I just miss her, Emma. I just miss her so damn much. I thought I could handle it, you know? That I could be strong, that I could keep it together until the next time I saw her. But it's been too long, I keep feeling like I'm falling apart. That my relationship is falling apart for her. I thought maybe if I just stepped back, she'd find what she needed without me getting in the way."

"I try to keep things feeling normal. I try to tell myself that the distance is temporary, that we’re strong enough to make it through, but what if we’re not? What if the longer this goes on, the more we rip apart? I don’t want to lose her, but I feel like I’m losing pieces of us every day."

"I'm scared, Emma," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared that one day, she'll take all her words back, she'll realize it's not enough. That every text she sends me is in complete dread, that she's just staying for the hell of it. That she finds a better relationship than what we have now."

Your gaze was locked on the floor, but Jenna's eyes were on you, wide and creased with confusion. The words you've thrown at her just echoed in her mind, looping relentlessly until they became the only thing she could hear along with the race of her heart thudding so loudly. She had been silent the whole time, listening to you pour out your fears, insecurities, on how much you've missed her.

She shouldn't have. She wasn't Emma.

Jenna's eyes flickered to you, your eyes was stuck on the floor, your shoulders slumped as if you were carrying the weight of the world. And in that moment, despite the ache in her chest, all she wanted was to hold you. It's the only thing that felt natural for her.

She closed the gap between you two, close enough that her knees brushed yours, and slowly enough as if she were afraid that you might pull away. The contact felt like a connection, barely there, yet it grounded you and your worries. It felt familiar.

Jenna's breath as she looked at you, her eyes searching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that you were still here with her.

Without a word, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around you at last. Her touch was tentative, she was unsure you wanted her there, but as her hand rested on your back, she felt the subtle rise and fall of your breathing. You were relaxed in her arms, you became yourself underneath her hands. She pulled you in closer like she was trying to shield you from the weight of whatever thought you had put on yourself.

"Y/n," she spoke, you knew that voice. it wasn't distant or abstract, it was real, present, and undeniably her. You knew this. The fact that you didn’t pull away. You didn’t flinch. In fact, the moment her presence reached you, it was as if a piece of you had been anchored to the ground again.

You knew her.

The warmth of her skin, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as you let yourself pull in her, it was familiar, comforting. You hadn't even realized how tightly you've been holding onto your fears and worries. But now, with her, they're no longe the loud and consuming force they had been before.

"Jenna?" you whispered, your voice was barely audible, trembling as it left your lips and hope it gets through with her.

It was the first time you had said her name aloud in her presence. You could feel her heartbeat against her chest, the steady rhythm that took both of you off. You pulled away from her embrace, looking at her as if you saw a ghost.

"I'm back home," she whispered back, her voice soft like it never changed.

Her words settled into your bones, offering a comfort that you didn't realize you've been craving so desperately. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, you allowed yourself to believe them. She wasn’t just saying it—she meant it. Jenna was here, she wasn’t going to leave.

You didn’t care what she had to say; it felt impolite, selfish even, but all you wanted was to crash into her arms like you had before. You were no longer standing at a distance. You didn’t think, you didn’t hesitate, you just moved.

With a sudden rush, you wrapped your arms around her as if she were the only lifeline you had in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control.

You clung to her as you murmured her name over and over again as if it was a prayer the heavens needed to hear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt and every part of you was aware of her. How her body felt against yours, the way she held you felt like a promise saying she wouldn't let you go in her life.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, your voice shaking as you pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, your tears blurring your vision. "I'm sorry for everything. For doubting you, for pushing you away when you clearly didn't want to.

"You’re finally here," you murmured, as you looked up at her, "You’re back with me."

Jenna's grip around you tightened, and you could feel her smile that always made you float in the air, even though you couldn't see it. "I missed you," she said softly, "I was so worried about you and I kept thinking about all the things we used to do together. I missed the way you laugh, the way you always know how to make me feel better. I just wanted to hear your voice again, to feel close to you. Don't worry about falling short, I'm already standing on a mountain of love that you've given me."

It was her, she was the same Jenna you've always loved. How she held you in your arms, how she kissed you after apologizing countless of times, how she feels in your arms, how she moves, how she laughs, how she makes you feel like you're safe and secured. Uncertainty washed away from you.

[fir3ylolol]

smile! you're on camera

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Staying at Johnny's house is really nice, except...something feels a little off. You find out the hard way when you decide to entertain yourself on the couch.

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, making out, face fucking, sex tape, dom/sub, switch!reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, sex in a theater, i physically cant write men who dont whine, he needs pussy!, afab!reader, he wants you so bad omg, smut, shameless smut, porn with light plot

a/n: hehehehehehe...this is inspired by the voice clip in the invasion mode of mk1 where he says he has cameras everywhere. ive been rly inspired lately, but im gna open up requests on here soon, so keep an eye outtt

word count: 2.63 k

Ao3

Something was really off about Cage’s house. After coming back from the tournament and training, you weren’t ready to get back to normal life. And Johnny had offered you a starring role in the movie he was planning to make about Outworld. You accepted quickly, after making sure you wouldn’t have to get naked or be a horrible person or anything like that. But rent is rough, and Johnny is so generous as to let you stay at his place.

His casual, gigantic mansion-y place.

But it was nice. You had your own space, a full fridge, and could still ignore things like work for a bit longer. Plus, Johnny was a surprisingly great host, hosting movie nights in his private theater. Everything was great, except…

You always felt like someone was watching you. As long as you weren’t in your room or the bathroom, it felt like there were eyes on you. Getting a drink of water? It’s there. Sitting on the couch? Being watched. Just wandering into a room? Oh yeah, you for sure feel it. But you brush it off and don’t bother to say anything to Johnny. You figure it’s just dumb paranoia.

After about 2 weeks without any work from Johnny, you’re getting bored. He’s never home, he has work to do and a movie to plan. So you sit around the mansion all day, waiting. Usually, you read, watch stuff, or even just take laps around the house for exercise. But today, you’re just scrolling through social media. Even that is boring to you today. You decide that, hey, you can think of a good way to pass the time. For a quick moment, you forget about feeling watched. Your fingers dip below your waistband, shivering at your touch. It’s been a long time, you’ve been training and then living in someone else’s house. When would you have the chance?

Slowly, you begin to tease yourself, fingers circling your clit. It’s quite embarrassing how much it affects you, but you’ve lost your ability to feel shame. You lose yourself in your actions, whimpers and moans echoing through the empty house. Unable to stop yourself, you finish with an almost violent snap, panting harshly. Pulling your hand out, you finally feel embarrassed, with how fast you were, and how hard you came. Shakily, you stand up and walk towards the bathroom to wash your hands.

You've forgotten what you did by the time Johnny gets home that evening. Smiling as he walks in, a grocery bag in one hand. “Here comes Mr. Celebrity to pass out treats to us poor folk,” you throw your hands out in a joking manner. But there’s a weird look in his eyes, not matching his characteristic smile. “It’s movie night, I had to make sure we had enough snacks,” he walks towards the kitchen, you shortly behind. “Oh yeah! What’s the movie tonight?” You lean against the counter, searching through the bag.

“The Thing. We haven’t done any horror movies yet.” He grabs a glass of water, drinking deeply. But that look is still there. It almost scares you away at how sharp it is. “Ah, ok. Well…I guess I’ll see you then.” You back out of the room, almost running when you’re out of his sight. Catching your breath in your room, confusion floods your mind. Did you do something wrong? Is he tired of having you here? All you can do is wait and wonder until tonight.

And tonight comes much too fast. You find yourself stumbling into the theater room, meeting Johnny’s eyes as you walk in. But he seems much happier. Maybe he was just tired after work. As you get settled, a bag of snacks next to your leg. As Johnny starts the movie and turns the lights down, you start to get nervous. What if he’s mad at you? He is pretty rich, if he wants you dead, it wouldn’t take long.

But Johnny sits next to you, settling down and looking towards you. You try not to look at him, fearing that you might meet a cold gaze. Unable to stop yourself though, your eyes meet his. The weird look is still there, no longer hidden under sunglasses and smiles. Ever the considerate movie-watcher, he leans in to whisper in your ear. “So, did you have a good day? It must get lonely here.” Trying to stay calm, you whisper back, “It was ok, I can’t complain. Was your day ok?”

“Yeah, more progress made on my movie. Studios are eating it up. But…” He pauses, looking at the screen shortly before looking back to you. “I did see a very interesting movie on break.” Turning fully, you look at him confusedly. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh yeah? What was it?”

“Well, you know, I do have cameras set up like everywhere, right?”

Oh shit.

Your entire face drops, frozen in shock. You finally remember the fun you had earlier on the couch. The watched feeling finally makes sense. “O-oh…” You stumble over yourself trying to think of excuses. This is humiliating. But Johnny doesn’t falter like you. He pauses the movie, reaching his hand out and taking yours to pull your focus back to him.

“You put on quite a show for me, you know?” You finally recognize the look in his eyes. It’s intense curiosity and...lust? “Only wish I knew what you were thinking about. Care to enlighten me?” He leans slightly closer, hot breath fanning over you. Swallowing hard, you try to avoid his intense stare. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was just…bored?” He laughs slightly, holding your other hand. “Really? I was sorta hoping you were thinking of me, but that’s a little selfish, huh?”

“H-huh? What? Do…do you think of me like that?” You fluster further at his words. “Maybe…does that bother you?” He falters slightly, realizing that he might be making you uncomfortable. But you can't stop yourself from blurting out, “No! It doesn't bother me. I-” Cutting you off, Johnny leans in closer, lips an inch apart. “Then what's the problem?” You swallow hard, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, and finally answer.

“I just don't know what to do when fantasy becomes reality.”

Luckily for you, Johnny knows.

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you like your life depended on it. You wrap your hands behind his neck and lean back, pulling him impossibly closer. Your tongues dance against each other, lips crashing. Suddenly, you get a surge of confidence, one that defies your previous apprehension. One of your hands slips down his chest slowly, inching along until you reach his growing bulge. He pulls back slightly, panting and staring directly into your eyes. “H-hey now, you’re not playing fair,” he manages to get out, slightly whining at your touch. 

“You started it, watching me like that,” you whisper in his ear, fingers slowly rubbing along his waistband. He gasps lightly, head turning away from you. “You liked it, right? Did you touch yourself watching it?” Your fingers move further past his waist, inching towards his cock. “C’mon, you can tell me,” your voice almost sing-songy and teasing. He manages to stutter out a shaky “y-yeah” as you continue down. But you suddenly stop, much to his disappointment.

Instead, you move to kneel in between his legs, looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looks slightly confused until you undo his pants button. Biting his lip, he watches you with intense, pleading eyes. You lean up, taking the zipper of his fly in your mouth and undoing it. He looks like he could honestly cum right now, but you won't let him. As you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, his cock springs up, the tip angry and weeping. He blushes at the sight of himself like this and you, looking up at him with his hard dick right in front of you.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, stroking him a few times. You just want to watch him squirm and squirm he does. He is whining, head turning back and forth, with one hand on his thigh and the other over his mouth. You kiss the underside, looking up at him through your lashes. With a muffled moan, he looks away again, face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. Slowly licking at the tip, watching as he continues unraveling, you finally take him in your mouth. You fit as much as you can at first, reveling in the loud gasp you earn from him. You continue a relentless pace, gently massaging his balls as well. 

This pleasure is intense for Johnny, so much so that he’s starting to tear up, eyes welling up as he holds back as many sounds as he can. But that only lasts so long as you lift your head off him, taking a deep breath and rasping out, “Do you wanna come, baby? Huh? Then come on, fuck my face like a good boy.” 

You go further down this time, causing him to jump at the feeling. Scurried hands grab at your head as he's bent forward, bucking at a frenzied pace. Loud, slutty moans roll from his lips as he loses himself in the feeling. And as you kneel there, trying to stay there for as long as possible, you feel yourself growing wetter. You did this to him, got him so riled up that he could barely control himself. Amongst his hurried moves, you manage to push past your gag reflex and fully take his entire cock down your throat. A loud, long breathy moan is all Johnny can get out as he almost immediately cums at the feeling. Focusing on holding your breath until you can no longer feel him pulsing in your throat, you savor his sounds, his whines, whimpers, moans.

As you move up, taking a deep breath, you admire him in the lowlights. His face flushed and sweaty, eyes rolled back in his head, usually perfect hair messed up. Beautiful. But he only stays like that for so long, because you move up to kiss him. As if his body is reacting without him thinking, he wraps one hand behind your back and uses one to tangle in your hair. After a short kiss, he pulls away. You manage to half-whisper “That was quite a show you put on,” chuckling afterward.

Johnny lazily motions for you to sit next to him, and you oblige. But before you’re even fully down, he's on you, kissing and pulling you closer. Now it's his turn to tease, fingers traveling under your shirt to play with your nipples. You let out light gasps at the feeling, as Johnny starts to bite and suck at your neck.

Mumbling against your skin, you can hear him say, “I'll give you a show.” He manages to pull your shirt off before you even realize what's happening, his eyes still desperate and wanting. He has no grace or subtlety as he pulls your pants and underwear off, he doesn't want to wait any longer than he has to. Shrugging his shirt and pants fully off, he stares at you intensely. He moves a finger to swipe across your wetness, knees buckling slightly as he feels you. He leans in against your chest, beginning to beg. “Please, please, I wanna be inside you, love. I wanna give you a real show, show how good I can be. Please?” God, he's kind of pathetic like this. It's hot.

With a quick nod, he springs up. He wastes no time as he practically lifts you and turns you around. Now, with your hands grasping the back of your seat and ass in the air, Johnny leans over you and presses against your back. Kissing between your shoulder blades, he slowly moves his hips to yours, cock gently rubbing against your wet pussy. Unable to control himself, his hips buck at the sensation, earning a groan from both of you. Face still against your back, you feel him lightly bite you, trying to ground himself. 

Finally, he manages to calm himself, standing up and taking a deep breath. After a pause, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly. With a long whine, he manages to bury himself inside you, pausing to adjust. With a strained voice, he quietly says, “Oh god, you feel so good, squeezing against my cock like that. I’m already sensitive, you know.” After a short pause, he starts to move, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces against him. “Shit, I should’ve fucked you earlier. I’ve been missing out,” he manages to get out as he speeds up, reveling in the way you mewl under him.

He’s moving at a breakneck pace now, gripping your hips desperately, and sputtering out praise. Without slowing, his hands shoot out, wrapping around your neck and grabbing your jaw. He’s using your head as leverage, but he manages to fuck you even deeper. He gently turns your head to the back corner of the theater, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention. “See right there? That’s where the camera is. Go ahead, put on a show, baby.” Despite his confident words, his voice is higher than normal and breathy. His words shoot straight to your dripping pussy, clenching even tighter around him. His hips buck in as he laughs slightly. “You like that? You like being my own personal pornstar? Then come on, let me see it. Get louder, these mics only pick up so much. Don’t hold back, yeah?” 

You decide that he’s getting a little too cocky, and decide to shut him up a bit. Moaning out obscenities, you begin to bounce back against him. His hands shoot back to your hips, using you to stabilize himself. Gone are his confident words, replaced with the most gorgeous whimpers you’ve ever heard. His head dips lower, resting once again against your upper back. You can hear his quiet whispers of “Oh fuck” repeated over and over again like a prayer.

With scrambling fingers that dart under you, he starts to play with your clit, bouncing at the same rhythm of his thrusts. “What fun is it if I’m the only one cumming? Besides…” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I studied the game tape.” He begins moving in circles, and suddenly it’s like you’re fucking him for the 50th time. He knows exactly where and what feels good, what directions, and how much pressure to use. But you have no time to wonder how many times he watched you before his hips started snapping in shaky thrusts. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and with the energy you have left, you decide to put on a major finale. Head tipped back, you begin pleading with him, crying out, “Please come for me, please, please. You’ve done such a good job, I need it, I need you, please please please…” Unable to hold back, he cums with a harsh final thrust. But even in the throws pleasure, he manages to continue to play with your clit. You cum shortly after him, he whines at the feeling of you spasming around his extremely sensitive cock. He slowly pulls out, taking a long second to admire the sight of you bent over and dripping arousal.

He guides you into the chair, helping you sit down and catch your breath. He sits next to you, snuggling into your side and planting his face against your neck. He breathes deep, inhaling your scent and kissing lightly against your sensitive skin. He manages to mumble into your neck, looking up with sweet, half-lidded eyes, “So...there’s about 56 cameras in the house. You mind sticking around for an extra few weeks?”

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it. 

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack. 

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s. 

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun. 

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best. 

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening. 

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him. 

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either. 

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins. 

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no. 

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hihihi rae!!!!! congratulations on 900 followers🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻i still remember the day u first posted ur jason fics aaaa ive loved every single one of ur fics ever since!!!

for the event, how about something angsty since ur the kween of angst!!!

“cmon, open your eyes. please, just open your eyes”

~900 words

It didn't hurt at first. The shrapnel in your side was a nuisance, of course. It slowed your movements, made you sluggish as you helped pull person after person out of the rubble.

But it didn't hurt. You knew, realistically, that it did, that adrenaline could only keep you on your feet for so long. But between disarming the rest of Fireflys bombs and getting the surviving victims to paramedics, you'd brushed off your own injuries.

Just one more person. One more life. The mantra repeated itself over and over in your head. Over and over until there was no one left to help. Then, and only then, did you follow the other vigilantes to a nearby roof.

Batman is the first to speak, gaze set on the scene below, "There's been no other sightings of Firefly. We'll split into teams of two and look into his usual hideouts. Robin and I will take East End. Spoiler and," you tune out the rest of his orders, more focused on not swaying on your feet.

You discreetly press your hand to your side, fighting the urge to wince at the blood seeping into your armor. Your vision is starting to swim, and you can practically feel your body crashing.

You shift your weight, trying to steady yourself. If you can just make it it a couple more hours, if you can just find Firefly before anyone else gets hurt–

"You okay," a quiet voice asks. You turn your head as Red Hood settles himself at your side, head tilted like he's observed your every movement.

You debate lying. Jason's always been observant, but it's not really a lie if you are okay, right? Sure, maybe there's some blood, and maybe it's starting to hurt when you breathe, but you are okay.

You open your mouth to tell him as much while putting on your most convincing face. Instead of getting to say a word, your world just kind of tips to the side.

One second, you're standing and the next? Nothing. A void of blackness and silence.

You must not be out for long, because you slowly wake up to shouts and firm pressure to your side.

You're not sure when you got so cold, but the body cradling you is warm. It draws you further away from the darkness threatening to take you under again.

There's a hand cupping your face, a thigh bracing your back, and a chest pressed to your side. If you had the strength to move, you'd want to curl into it, to savor how safe it feels.

A pair of hands work over your side, and you start to register sharp words and pleading tones. It takes more effort than it should to start to recognize what they're saying.

'Lost a lot of blood,' you manage to pick out. Something about getting the cave ready. Reassurances that you were caught before hit your head, and you've survived worse than a piece of metal to your kidney.

But it's none of those words, none of those voices that will you to open your eyes.

It's Jason. His voice cuts through the hazy fog in your mind, "C'mon, open your eyes. Please, just open your eyes." He sounds like he's begging, desperate and anxious for any sign of life from you.

You hate it. Hate that you made him worry. Made him scared. It takes all the strength you have left, but you crack your eyes open.

His helmet is off, thrown somewhere and forgotten, and you've never seen him look so relieved, "Hey, hey, sweetheart. There you are. You need to keep your eyes open for me, okay? We're gonna get you taken care of."

You'd like to nod, but all you manage is a weak hum. Your body feels heavy, your eyes even heavier, but his thumb is stroking your cheek, and it's so soothing that you actually want to stay awake, to soak up every soft word and gentle touch.

"Good," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving you, even as the others work diligently over your injury. "Just stay awake, stay with me," he pleads.

Someone says something about the batmobile, but it's getting more and more difficult to focus on words. There's a brief argument about it being too dangerous to move you, at least you think there is.

Then you're lifted into the air, held tightly in Red Hood's arms. Your head lolls to his shoulder.

You know he's still speaking to you, you can hear the way his voice is starting to pitch into something more desperate again. But whatever he's saying is lost to your dazed state.

Lights seem to flash in your vision, but the warmth of him never fades. The engine of the batmobile roars in time with your eyes rolling back.

You know you've lost some time. You must have blacked out somewhere in between the roof and getting to the cave.

Your eyes flutter sluggishly. There's an IV in your arm, a hand clutching yours, and a white light baring down at you.

The familiar sensation of stitches pulling your skin back together registers. It's enough to know you won't die, even if it feels like you are.

There's a soft voice in your ear. The words sound like gibberish, but the tone is comforting. Sleep starts to drag you back under, but there's a peace to it this time, comforted by the idea that when you wake up, and you will wake up, that voice will still be at your side.

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[yeowangies]

mutual understanding

Chapter I: The butt of the joke | II | III | IV | V

PAIRING: Kenpachi/AFAB!Reader CONTENTS: AU - Fantasy, Medieval, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pining, Explicit Sexual Content in later chapters. WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: None. WORDCOUNT: 3914

Summary:

Marrying a complete stranger was something you had come to terms years ago, but marrying Kenpachi Zaraki, out of all the possible options, was something you didn’t want to settle with. No matter that he had saved your life, you weren't going into the marriage happily, even more so, you were afraid he would be a brute in every aspect of the word.

To your own surprise, however, no one had ever treated you better.

Notes:

So uh. Hello. I started writing this a few months ago and I didn't think it'd be so long so, it's a kenpachi chaptered fic now lmao

This is heavily inspired by the webnovel 'under the oak tree', though only inspired. If any of you had read it, you'll notice the similarities and how small they are.

As a medieval au, I tried to write with a manner of speech according to it mainly for the reader character, but I might be a little stiff for that lmao

This will have smut (in the 3rd chapter if i calculated everything right), so if you're waiting for it, it's coming 💖 For now, this chapter works as an introduction and setting to the rest of the plot!

header by me, divider by @/benkeibear

You rolled your eyes, frustrated, as you waited in the corridor for your father to come out of his office, with a speech prepared in your head to dissuade him from making this arrangement happen. 

Marrying a complete stranger was something you had come to terms years ago, but marrying Kenpachi Zaraki, out of all the possible options, was something you didn’t want to settle with. There was only so much you could do against such an union, but you had nothing to lose, so talking your father out of it was probably the last and only resort. 

“Father,” You called out for him, loud enough to make him look at you once he walked out of the room. He only kept walking as you chased after him, holding onto your dress as each of your steps resonated in the hallway. “I beg of you, please do not let this union take place!”

“Why should I do such a thing?” He asked, voice cold, not even presenting you with a quick glance as he kept on walking. 

“I do not wish to marry that man!” 

“I am the one who decides who is to become your spouse, however.”

“I understand that, but please, I must insist!”

He came to a full stop once he reached the door towards the banquet hall, and you tried to catch your breath as he turned to look at you with a stern look. 

“What do you have against him? Kenpachi Zaraki saved your life, if you must remember, my child.”

“I remember it perfectly well, but… giving him my hand in marriage as payment is atrocious to me, Father!”

“Surely you are not suggesting not to reward his actions.” He quirked an eyebrow in your direction. You knew you were testing your father’s patience at this point. “You are the princess of this kingdom, or have you forgotten?”

“His honorable actions deserve every reward possible, and we must not repair expenses if he demands food, or treasures, or perhaps a bigger fief than the one he already has. But, please, give him my life in exchange? You cannot be serious.”

“If I did not know you well enough, my child, I would assume you have a vendetta against him.”

“A vendetta!” You repeated, amused and exasperated at the same time, and you couldn’t help but raise your voice when you went on. “Father, he is a barbarian! He is violent and does not even seem to know any rules regarding etiquette!”

“Let me remind you that he is incredibly powerful too.” Your father said, as serious as always, not paying attention to any of your objections. “So powerful that even without belonging to a royal family, he has his own army. People who follow him, who are loyal to his physical strength and character. Kenpachi Zaraki would be a great ally to have if we ever have to face a conflict with our neighboring kingdoms, as it had happened in the past. And there is no safer place for you to be than with the strongest man in this land.”

The political agenda weighed heavily in this situation. You assumed that was the case, but you have just been explicitly told that was probably the main reason behind this marriage, and you couldn’t argue anymore. At a loss of words, you let your father turn to leave towards the banquet hall, sparing you a daring look before walking in. 

You sighed, clenching your fists in defeat. No other argument you could have possibly said would change this predicament.

When you walked into the hall moments later, you were taken aback to see Kenpachi talking to your father, in the most casual manner.

“I do not need a wife.” Kenpachi said through gritted teeth, emphasizing every word with anger. “I don’t want one!”

“Do not be so unreasonable, Zaraki,” Your father replied dismissively. “You will need someone to care for your fief while you are away.”

You had to control the urge to roll your eyes this time. 

“My people do that just fine!”

“It has already been arranged. I will not take any more objections. I am being more than lenient with you, Zaraki, considering your past activities, I am willing to overlook them for this union that will benefit us both.”

“I do not give a crap about that.” Kenpachi replied, low and intimidating, but you still couldn’t help but look at him with eyes wide open when he cursed like that so openly in front of you and the king. 

Kenpachi clicked his tongue as he turned to leave, looking at you with a glare when he strode past you, and slamming the door shut. For such an antic complaint, you wondered why he didn’t stand his ground more, he certainly could if he truly didn’t want this union. 

As much spunk you had in you to face situations like these, his size and imposing aura just left you breathless. You barely even reached his chest when he walked past you. You were terrified he might just accidentally kill you by simply putting a hand on you. 

“Father, please, please!” You turned to your father with imploring eyes. “I beg you, do not let this happen!”

“My child, if you have any more objections, I would be glad to hear them, but you better have a spectacular argument.” He said to you, frustrated yet purposely mocking you.

“He is just… so old!” 

You turned red when your father suddenly laughed.

“Oh, other royal men choose their spouse much, much younger than you, when they are even older than Zaraki himself!”

“I am well aware that it happens…”

You sighed again, completely given up, as you turned around.

*

The wedding ceremony took place almost two weeks later. Knowing what little you knew about Kenpachi, you were surprised he didn’t take off before the date. 

He was cold during the service, and barely looked at you during the banquet. He must have hated this arrangement as much as you did or even more by the way he kept glaring at everyone who even tried to talk to him, and you were left in charge of exchanging niceties with the guest wishing you good luck in this new period of your life. 

You couldn’t help but wonder constantly about what your father mentioned, even as you were in the middle of a ball with a room full of people. ‘Past activities’. Whatever did he mean by that? You knew your father merely saw you as a political tool, but you were concerned he had actually sold you to a man who could physically harm you. 

It was inevitable not to dwell on that, especially as you were getting ready for the wedding night. With your maids trading comments about how happy they were that you were married, but concerned that Kenpachi was such a big man with such a stern expression, it was difficult to relax. Their worries had been your own for weeks, and it was only making it worse to hear other people comment on them. You kept your words to yourself however, not dismissing their conversation, as they brushed your hair and helped you change into your nightgown. 

You weren’t clueless about what couples did in the intimacy of their bedrooms, but no matter how much you knew, you had never experienced it. It was almost impossible to hide your nerves; you only knew so much about this man, and what little you knew only made you more worried. 

Kenpachi practically burst the door open, getting you out of your head and making you and your maids jump from surprise. 

“Leave us.” He demanded, fixing his eyes on you as your servants scurried away. 

You bit your lip, looking at Kenpachi with what little courage you had at that moment before standing up from the chair by the vanity. You had only seen him wearing different kinds of armors throughout his stay at the palace, but to see him in only a tunic and pants made you realize how muscular and thick he naturally was. His gaze was smoldering as you approached the bed, carefully lying on it as gracefully as you could, trying not to show how nervous you truly were. He was sitting on the bed in the blink of an eye, and you closed your eyes when you felt the mattress shift as he took off his tunic. 

“Fucking unwilling women isn’t really my style.” He said, making you open your eyes to meet his briefly. “Do you want this or not?”

Apparently you were doing a terrible job at hiding your anxiety. 

Looking at him when he was completely shirtless only distracted you more, and you swallowed loudly before attempting to speak, but only an unintelligible babble came out of your mouth. Kenpachi clicked his tongue, and when he averted his eyes, you feared he might walk out of the room. If he did, not only would the unconsummated marriage fall apart, but you’d be terribly and publicly humiliated. 

When he brought his thumb to his lips, biting it hard enough to draw blood, you stared at him with eyes wide open. He let the blood drip onto the sheets in the middle of the bed before wiping off his finger, a crimson stain forming immediately. You were too confused to react when he reached for your nightgown, pulling it over your thighs before pinching the skin there, strong enough to make it hurt. 

A loud squeak came from your mouth, and you instinctively swatted his hand away, sitting up and pulling back. 

“Why did you do that?!” You asked, soothing your thigh with your hand over your gown. 

“Why do you think?” Kenpachi replied with a smirk, entertained by your reaction. “That slap you gave me wasn’t so bad.”

“Well, you hurt me!”

“We’re even then.”

You looked at him, confused by his words, as he lay on the bed beside you, kicking off his boots. 

It took you staring at the blood stain on the bed for a minute as you rubbed your thigh to fully understand what had just happened. A priest would come and check if the marriage had been consummated the next morning, and there was proof. The little yell you let out would convince anyone who might have been listening outside.

Kenpachi had just let you out of a situation you weren’t ready for, without even a second thought. 

“Thank you.” You said softly, looking at him as he closed his eyes. 

“Just go to sleep and let this day be over with.”

You hummed in agreement, relaxing even more when you noticed he wasn’t going to try and touch you at all. You lay beside him, taking a quick glance in his direction as you got comfortable, covering yourself with the blankets and turning to the side so as not to face him. 

*

Leaving the palace you had grown up in was difficult but you knew it was coming as soon as the wedding ceremony was over. 

The morning after the wedding night, your maids had already prepared most of your luggage, and by noon you were already on a carriage, on your way to Kenpachi Zaraki’s fief. Him and all his men traveled by horse, the only privilege of having a nice comfortable seat was given to you as the only woman. 

You caught some topics of conversation here and there. How hilarious it was that Kenpachi had gotten a wife without even trying and your difference in age and size were the most common. It made you chuckle to even hear comparisons like ‘beauty and the beast’. But what got your attention the most was the name that occasionally popped up, ‘Yachiru’. 

‘Yachiru was waiting for them.’ ‘One of the few times Yachiru did not accompany Kenpachi.’ ‘Yachiru must feel lonely all by herself in the castle.’

You were starting to wonder if maybe Kenpachi wasn’t as single as he seemed, and that’s why he refused to marry you initially. A woman waiting for him at his fief could only mean one thing, and anger bubbled up inside you. It wasn’t uncommon for men to have other women outside their marriage, but it was unfair that he had one while you were getting married. 

“Why are you sulking?” Kenpachi asked you while you looked out the window, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I am not doing such a thing.” You replied, even though you knew you were.

“We’ll get to my place by night, put up with it until then.”

His horse went up ahead as you stared at him, still surprised by his lack of finesse in his words. 

True to them, however, you reached his fief after nightfall, when you were hungry, and most importantly, ready to sleep. You didn’t even have the energy to pay attention to your new home, though the darkness was making it difficult to even look at it in detail.

“Wait here, I’ll get food.” Kenpachi said once you were both in what would be your shared bedroom from then on. 

The chamber was dark with a high ceiling, stone walls keeping the light away, with only one big window that made moonlight crept in. It was warm due to the fireplace, which you assumed the help probably started earlier. To your own surprise, it was spacious, with even an ample desk with a chair; and the bed was big enough to comfortably fit three people, with soft blankets and covers made out of fur. 

It wasn’t the kind of room you expected from a man like Kenpachi. 

When he came back a few moments later, carrying a tray with plates for the both of you, you practically gulped down everything on it as soon as you had it in your hands, forgetting about being polite and delicate for a second. 

“So you can eat.” Kenpachi teased you with a smirk.

“I apologize,” You said with your mouth full, slowing down for only a second to drink water. “I was just famished.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” He asked, looking at you curiously. “You royals are too complicated. If you’re hungry, eat.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” You replied, tasting the bread on the side, that was made recently, still warm and soft on the inside. 

You didn’t exchange words while you both finished your meals, and you eyed him with intrigue every once in a while. Kenpachi seemed just as hungry as you were, swallowing down everything faster than you, and drinking what was probably wine from his cup. He lacked manners, you knew he did, but it only made the situation more endearing. 

His lack of social graces made it difficult for you to like him at the beginning; he seemed aloof at best, or completely ill-mannered at worst. But maybe you had looked at him wrong. You’ll have the rest of your life to figure it out. 

“Can I get a maid to help me get undressed?” You asked once he removed the plates from the bed. 

“The maids are sleeping. I didn’t know you needed help for that.” Kenpachi stared at you blankly for a second too long and you inevitably blushed.

Ashamed, you remained quiet, avoiding his eyes. You didn’t want to ask for his help in removing your dress, but you couldn’t do it alone. 

“Can you help me then, please?” You finally asked, looking at him with embarrassment.

His gaze remained on you, unfazed for a moment, before he nodded and gestured to you to come closer. You stood in front of him while he sat on the bed, and turned around, holding your hair back so he could see the back of your dress. 

Kenpachi sighed loudly, and the feeling that you might be annoying him made you tense. He took his time, carefully undoing each button. You shrugged off your sleeves once he had reached the end, nervously holding onto the front of your dress. Before you could tell him to loosen the satin tapes of the corset underneath, he was already on it, hooking his fingers and undoing the knot before tugging softly at the tapes to open it up. 

Your face was hot from embarrassment for having to ask for his help, for feeling like a bother in doing so, and for exposing yourself like this. You stepped away once he was done with the tapes, and while you held tightly onto your dress to prevent it from falling, you looked at him over your shoulder. 

“Can you turn around, please?”

Raising a brow, Kenpachi eyed you up and down before getting up from the bed and turning towards the fireplace, keeping his back to you. 

“I don’t even get why you’re making a fuss,” He said, removing his boots. “I saw you in your sleepwear yesterday.”

“It is not the same situation.” You replied quietly, as you quickly shrugged off your dress, letting it fall to your feet before shimmying your way out of your corset. 

“What’s the difference? I’m gonna be seeing you undress for the rest of our lives.”

You gulped loudly, but didn’t reply. 

Once you removed your bottoms, you were left in your tunic, tying the tapes in the front so no skin from your chest was visible. 

“You can turn around now.”

When you looked at Kenpachi, his shirt was gone, and that only made your face blush harder. He scanned your shape with his eyes quickly before sighing, approaching the bed and lying down on it. 

“Come on, let’s sleep, I’m beat.”

You nodded, though you didn’t think he even noticed, as he closed his eyes as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

Sliding on the opposite side, you covered yourself with the blankets, and turned to your side, your back to him like the night before. 

“Good night.” You whispered quietly, and closed your eyes.

*

When you woke up the next day, the sun was already high up, and Kenpachi seemed to have woken up a long time ago by how cold the side of the bed was. You took the opportunity to explore your new home as soon as you finished breakfast, and it amazed you how enormous the castle truly was. 

Its design on the inside reminded you of a fortress, with a lot of long corridors and rooms that would make anyone lose themselves in there if they were to go deeper. Or perhaps it was just you; the castle was mostly made of stone with only a few windows, and every corner looked exactly the same. Completely different from the palace you used to live in that had tall windows with luxurious decorations and items in every wall. It would take some getting used to living in such a place, but you really couldn’t complain about it; it was still a big castle that offered you comfort and security. 

As you headed downstairs to explore the outside, you stopped in your tracks when you heard some maids talking to each other as they passed by. 

“Yachiru was her usual cheerful self now that Sir Zaraki was back.”

You frowned as you kept walking, offended that everyone in the castle seemed to know that your brand new husband had another woman. One that had been with him long before you knew it. 

You didn’t really care if Kenpachi had other women, you even expected it since he didn’t have any intention to marry you in the first place. But you hoped he was at least careful about it so the entire world wouldn’t find out. Apparently it was a little too late for that. 

The garden left a lot to be desired. As you walked through it, overgrown grass and weed invaded most of it, and even the trail was uneven. While you headed towards the training grounds, you already decided to ask Kenpachi for permission to fix it. 

The training area was spacious, and currently occupied by almost every boisterous soldier Kenpachi had under his command. Dust flew in the air as they yelled and exchanged sword blows, blood occasionally splattering on the ground, and you stood, mesmerized by how eager to fight these men were. Violence only attracted more violence, and there was the proof that Kenpachi Zaraki only attracted more people who were exactly the way he was. 

But you were shocked to your core when you saw a little girl in the middle of it all, her pretty pink hair contrasting the atmosphere and uniforms of all the men. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You jumped when you heard Kenpachi’s voice beside you, and he stared at you, impassive, when you turned to him. 

“I-I was just… getting to know this place.” You replied nervously. “What is that child doing there?”

“Training.”

“W-What? She is only a child!”

“And she’s stronger than most men here.” Kenpachi replied, staring at her as she swung her sword like she was playing with it. 

“Whose daughter is she?”

“Mine.”

You inevitably choked on your own saliva when you heard him and started coughing, loud enough that almost every man present turned to you, which only made blood travel to your face faster. Most of them bowed to you, but you could barely acknowledge them as you tried to recover.

A daughter? At this point you were convinced you were the butt of the joke. 

Kenpachi was staring at you between curious and amused, but he remained quiet. 

“W-When were you planning on telling me that?” You asked him once you regained your composure, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“Tell you what?”

“That you have children!”

“Oh.” Kenpachi said, as if it was the most boring thing you could be talking about, and it only made anger start to bubble inside you. “She’s not actually mine.”

“What?”

“I found her in the woods when she was a baby and took her in.”

“Oh…” You whispered, extremely embarrassed about the situation. “What is her name?”

“Yachiru.”

It all made sense then.

You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, and stared at the group of men in front of you, who still had their eyes on you. Ashamed of introducing yourself in such circumstances, you bowed as you said your name quickly before making a quick exit and turning back to the castle. 

You knew you would have to socialize with Kenpachi’s army of men sooner or later, but you were still embarrassed they saw you red as a tomato and sputtering nonsense, so you ended up having dinner in your room. 

“Did you stay here all day?” Kenpachi asked when he walked in at night, making you jump slightly. You still couldn’t really get used to his loud gruff voice.

“Not precisely.” You replied, eying him from the bed as he took off his boots. “I explored the rest of the castle before returning here.”

He only grunted in acknowledgement before removing his shirt and eyepatch, and you averted your eyes quickly, trying not to stare at him. However, when he took a clean shirt and walked towards the door, you couldn’t help but look at him, alarmed that he was leaving. 

“I’m going to sleep in another room,” Kenpachi turned to look at you with his usual hardened expression. “You stay here.”

You couldn’t even let out a single protest as he walked out the door.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Jake Seresin And The Unfortunate Hat Situation

jake seresin x fem!reader 3k words

summary: You’re visiting Jake’s family in Texas for the first time and so far, it’s been going well. Just that Jake may have forgotten to mention the hat rule. 

another cowboy fic because i fucking can

disclaimer: strong allusions to smut. im not kidding. this is basically straight up dirty talk all the way through

a/n: i’m warning you once about all the inaccuracies in here and thats it. read at your own risk. i have literally no clue whatsoever about texas and/or cowboys and did not have it in me to research cowboy history for hours on end, like- i tried, okay? i really did try. i know facts about cowboy hats now that i never felt the need to know (though “dont sleep with your cowboy hat on”, um... yeah? thanks? i totally would have done that otherwise) but i still do not have the information to back this shit up lmao

top gun masterlist

(yes i did have to use an everybody wants some gif. during the past week ive rewatched this film more times than i can count and i will take every opportunity i get to talk about it)

“Enlighten me”, you chuckled, spreading your arms, a bottle of beer in your right hand. “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats? Isn’t that kind of their thing?”

You were visiting Texas for the first time - a week off of work, away from the Navy and the Dagger Squad for a bit, to meet Jake’s friends and family back home. You’d talked to most every one of them over the phone whenever he had found the time to call, but you’d never actually met them in person before this. So it had been an adventure from the start: getting on a plane in San Diego to take you to Texas where Jake had grown up, being picked up at the airport by his mother, driving two hours to the farm they owned (”You grew up on a farm?”, you’d asked when he’d told you, wheezing at the mental image of teenage Jake herding sheep), meeting his dad, being surprised by both his sisters, getting to see his childhood bedroom. 

And then, to top it off: the sound of his alarm at the crack of dawn this morning to go teach you how to ride a horse. 

Needless to say that you’d been buzzing with nervous energy for the past few days. Not that you weren’t happy - it was just all a bit much at once. 

After lunch he’d taken you into the city and you’d gone shopping for some real cowboy boots. He’d planned to take you to a bar in the evening, to introduce you to some friends. After all you only had a week here and neither of you felt like missing out on something. 

When you’d wanted to try cowboy hats in the store too, Jake had snatched them from you and grabbed your hands, pulling you close to him, telling you that you’d get one when you’d become a real cowgirl. Since you doubted that would ever happen, you’d pouted and tried to convince him with kisses and, when that hadn’t worked, half-hearted threats, but he wouldn’t be persuaded even the slightest. He’d only looked down at you with raised eyebrows until you’d caved and satisfied yourself with cursing under your breath. 

So here you were: Cowboy boots, jeans shorts and a button-up and no cowboy hat in sight. 

Actually, there was one in sight. Jake was wearing his, in all his Texan glory, laughing with some of his friends at the bar. The thing was, he was the only guy wearing his hat. There were some cowboys strutting about with them on their heads, but most of them didn’t have one - hat hair, yes, but no hat. Hence your initial question: “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats?” 

“Shit, Jake didn’t tell you?”, Kendra - one of Jake’s only female friends here, who’d immediately decided she liked you and pulled you to one of the tables for some girl talk - let out a laugh. “No wonder it’s still on his head. We were getting worried already.” 

It was pretty clear to everyone that you weren’t from around here, so you saw no reason to hide your confusion.

“Now you’ve lost me entirely. What?”, you asked, masking your frown with a laugh. You’d been here for hardly two days and you didn’t think you’d felt as embarrassed ever before. You knew about literally nothing. At least you’d done somewhat well at horseback riding, which could’ve been because of Jake’s arms around you and his hands over yours as you - he - held the reins, but either way you were proud of yourself for not falling off and landing on your ass. 

“It’s like this: Ladies didn’t wear hats for a really long time. Cowboys wore the hats. So when you saw a lady with a cowboy hat on - that was her man’s. A sign that she belonged to him. Property shit and all.” She waved it off as if dismissing the concept. “Changed over the past few decades, of course. Better that way too. Ladies can wear whatever they want now. But the thought kind of stuck. You see a guy without a hat, he’s probably taken. You see a girl with a hat, that’s probably her man’s. And before you ever steal a hat, you should know the hat rule.” 

You raised your eyebrows. Your stomach did weird little flips as she talked. Jake hadn’t explained any of this to you. 

“The hat rule?”, you asked. Kendra grinned and leaned in, pretending to let out some big secret. 

“You wear the hat”, she said and paused for a second for dramatic effect, “You wear the cowboy.” 

You breathed out. 

“Oh.” 

Oh my ass, you thought. 

Jake hadn’t let you buy your own hat for a reason. And then he’d gone ahead and not given you that reason. What the actual fuck. 

You would’ve loved to wear his hat. You would’ve loved the thought of him claiming you like that, letting you wear his hat, showing everyone that yeah, you were Jake Seresin’s girl. But no. He’d left you completely in the dark, hadn’t let a single word slip. And he was still wearing that goddamn hat himself. 

Like a single fucking guy, not a man in a loving relationship.

Somehow, now that you knew, you were more annoyed by the fact that he was wearing it than that he just hadn’t told you at all. God, he could’ve left it at home. He could’ve taken it off. He could’ve just put it on your head without telling you why if he didn’t want to. 

And right there, that was the part you just didn’t understand. Why hadn’t he told you? He should have known you well enough by now to realise that you would absolutely adore wearing that hat. Not only because you wanted to wear a hat (which you did) but also because you wanted to wear his hat (which you did even more). After all, it wasn’t only him claiming you - it was you claiming him as well. And as horrible as the history of that hat rule was, in this present day you felt like it would only have been fair of him to tell you. You wanted to have that chance of showing him off. Of him showing you off, which he did so happily back in San Diego. 

“Hey”, Kendra said, her expression a bit more serious as she put a hand to your arm and pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m sure Jake didn’t mean to hurt you. He may seem like a bastard, but he’s actually a real sweetheart.” 

You snorted at her, nodding along. 

“He is”, you agreed. “Which is kind of why it hurts even more. I don’t get why he wouldn’t just tell me. It’s not like he’s ever been scared I’d say no to him or something.”

Kendra smiled and squeezed your arm reassuringly. 

“Try not to worry about it too much. Just ask him when you get home later, yeah? Communication is key.” Her smile turned into a grin. She winked at you. “And hey, you can always wear my hat if you’d like.” 

You forced yourself to smile as well as you took a sip of your beer. “If I actually were single, I’d definitely take you up on that offer, but I’m not, and I don’t think Jake would like it much.” 

Her grin only deepened. She had dimples, you realised, and the hat on her head matched her eye colour. You were glad to have her here with you. She was someone you were sure you could become good friends with over time. 

“That makes it even better”, she said conspicuously. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles over the edge of the table as she tipped her hat back. “He never told you about the hats. You don’t know anything in his eyes, honey. Use it against him.” 

There was a twinkle in her gaze that told you she was looking for nothing short of mischief and you had the distinct feeling that she’d been the ‘bad influence’ on Jake in high school that he’d talked about so often. She seemed like a troublemaker. But she also seemed genuine. And she was right - in Jake’s eyes, you were getting to know one of his friends, talking about some girly stuff (which he probably assumed was himself), having a nice night. Not learning about cowboy customs that he’d just so forgotten to mention. 

Jake usually didn’t get jealous. He trusted you the same way you trusted him. But he got possessive nonetheless - always with a hand on your back when you were talking to someone he thought was flirting with you, kissing you at the most inappropriate times, making sure that everyone knew you were his. Now he’d had the goddamn chance and hadn’t taken it. And you didn’t fucking know why. 

But you were damn determined to find out. 

Kendra slid the hat off her head and offered it to you. You took one deep breath before you reached for it. 

You let your fingertips skip over the rim for a moment. Were you really about to do this? Then you put it on your head. 

Alright. If Jake wasn’t going to tell you about the way this worked on his own accord, you’d make him tell you. 

Kendra emptied her beer and you followed suit before the both of you got up. She grabbed both bottles in one hand, turning to you to send you another of those winks. 

“I’ll bring these back to the bar and get us new ones. The dancefloor’s all yours.” 

With a nervous smile, you adjusted your newly aqcuired hat and made your way onto the dancefloor. There was soft music playing in the background - country, of course, loud but not loud enough to disturb conversation. It wasn’t late enough for that just yet. Which was honestly a relief, since you had zero clue whatsoever about line dancing or whatever it was they did down here. This way there were only a few couples twirling each other back and forth and some people moving to the beat all on their own. You let out a breath and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to really feel the music: the guitar, the steady drums, the vocals. 

Slowly, you started swaying - from one side to the other, turning, twirling, one step, then the next, heels here, toes there. A grin was making its way onto your face. The music grew, not as much in volume as in pace, and you didn’t know just when you had started to forget about everything except your movements (like the people watching, for example), but then the song changed and you gasped as you realised you knew it. Eyes fluttering open, hands coming together to clap, lips twisting into an actual laugh as you sang along, catching Kendra’s gaze and waving her over. 

She joined you with a laugh, grabbed your hand to twirl you around, and god, her voice was heavenly. For just a split second you wondered how Jake hadn’t ended up falling for her. You certainly would have. 

And speaking - more like thinking, but whatever - of the devil, you felt an all too familiar hand on your shoulder. You turned at the same time that Kendra let go of you, allowing you to admire your boyfriend in all his furious glory. 

Not that he actually looked furious. Not to anyone but you, not with that facade he wore whenever anyone got under his skin. But you, well... You’d been with him long enough to understand that twitch of his jaw, that tension in his shoulders, that flicker in his eyes. And yet - the cowboy hat still sat on his head. 

“I got it from here, Kendra”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, as you held your breath. She snorted, but still made to move away, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t catch. Then Jake spoke again. “Take your hat, Kendra.” 

He grabbed it from where it rested on your head and threw it at her without looking away from you. She sucked in a breath. 

“If you throw my hat again, I’ll kick your ass, Seresin”, she said and you could tell that even though they were friends, she wasn’t kidding. Shit, the people here were really fucking serious about their hats. Another reason why you were mad at Jake for not telling you about any of it. 

“Next time, don’t set it on my girl’s head”, he growled - growled, really, you didn’t know what else to call it. She scoffed and walked off. 

“How could she know I was your girl?”, you whispered, challenging him even though he already looked like you’d crossed some line that he’d drawn without telling you. “How could anyone?” 

For a few moments, he kept quiet. You defiantly stared up at him. Should he think whatever he fucking wanted to, this was entirely his fault. 

Then something changed in his expression. 

“You found out about the hat rule”, he said, “And the first thing you did was go and put on somebody else’s.” 

“Well if my boyfriend doesn’t want to have me wear his hat-” 

You couldn’t react as quickly as Jake had gripped you by the waist and pulled you close to him, forcing you to tip your head back to keep looking at him. He was, in fact, so close now that you could just kiss him and honestly, you were tempted. Just as tempted as you’d been when he’d come out of the bathroom looking like that, just as tempted as you’d been when you’d left the house, just as tempted as you’d been in his truck. But you were also stubborn. And you had good reasons not to kiss him right now (even though they were getting harder and harder to remember by the second).

“Darling, I’d go wild for you with my hat on.” 

You swallowed. Hard. 

“So why am I not wearing it?”, you asked through gritted teeth. You couldn’t quite believe just how easily this whole situation was getting under your skin. But it seriously hurt your ego - and not just that. The fact that Jake hadn’t told you about something so important in his hometown, some, as ridiculous as it may be, piece of culture, something that would so clearly show everyone that you were dating him, really, actually, seriously dating him, stung more than you wanted to admit. It was like someone had asked him outright if he was taken and he’d said no. 

“‘Cause I told you to wait”, he drawled, “Didn’t I? Wait ‘til you’re a real cowgirl.” 

Curiosity and frustration were mixing in your stomach, a weird, dangerous combo. You grabbed for his collar, pulling on it just a bit too hard - nothing he couldn’t stand his ground against. You were feeling insulted by all this and you found that you should let him know. 

“What’s a girl like me gotta do to become one in your eyes, hm, Hangman?” 

Hangman. You only called him that when you meant business. It was like a mother using her child’s full name whenever it got in serious trouble. Jake stiffened, fingers digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure you’d be able to see the marks in the mirror later on. You’d hit a nerve. Always did when you called him by his callsign. No more Jake, no more baby, none of that. 

“Behave”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, that one word carrying so much more meaning. You didn’t care. For once, you really didn’t fucking care. You wanted him riled up, wanted him furious, wanted him right at this breaking point. So you smiled.  

“Like a dog?” 

He’d smashed his lips on yours before you could react. 

All teeth and tongue, decisive, possessive, angry. You didn’t want to give in as quickly as you did. But he hardly left you a choice - he was everywhere, arms wrapped so tightly around you, chest pressed so firmly against yours, not giving you the option to escape, to duck away, to tease him any further. So instead of doing that, instead of making him run after you more, you let him have the control. All of it. Instead of turning, instead of making him chase you, you pulled him close to you by his collar with all the force you could manage, pulled him into you, pulled him with you as you stumbled backwards from the sudden change of weight, put your entire trust in him to keep you upright. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to if that meant letting go. 

Not with how much emotion you were putting into this fucking kiss. 

Jake was the one to break away first. Pupils blown, cheeks reddened (you were sure you looked even worse), panting. You loosened your grip on his collar and ran a hand through your hair instead. 

Somewhere in the back of your head, you remembered that you were still in a bar, still in the middle of the dancefloor, still under the watchful eyes of his friends. A different part was screaming at you to fuck it and fuck him right here, right now. 

“Shit”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. His hat let a shadow fall over both your faces. “You’re gon’ be the death of me someday.” 

“Hopefully not too soon”, you teased, a smile playing on your lips as he pulled back just a bit. “I still gotta find out how to become a cowgirl after all.” 

The corner of his mouth quirked up as well. He raised his eyebrows, examining you for a second. 

“You really wanna know, sweetheart?” 

You let out a laugh. “Fuck yeah.” 

He leaned in close, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, and you had to swallow. This felt intimate, somehow. 

“You’re gon’ be a cowgirl once you rode your cowboy.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. He pulled back with a grin. Smug, you realised. He was so fucking proud of himself for this - for having caught you off guard like that. You couldn’t let him win that easily. Not with that already inflated ego. 

“All of this just to get me into your bed?”, you chuckled. “Damn, Seresin. Lotta work for no reason, hm? I’m in it at the end of every day anyway.” 

He shrugged - as best as he could with his hands still on your waist. 

“What can I say? I aim to please.” 

You couldn’t help but grin too. The angry, sizzling tension had dissolved into something much more pleasant, much more dizzying. Something that set your skin ablaze and your mind on fire. You grabbed one of his hands from your waist and intertwined your fingers with his. 

“Want to get out of here?”, you asked. He leaned in and kissed you with a smile - slow and steady and sensual, wholly different from before. 

When he pulled back, you were breathless again. 

“Always.” 

[afewfantasies]

Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - Confirmation - IV

COMPLETE MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: You and Benny reconnect and learn a little about your lives here and now.

Word count: 2K

“You’re doin’ laundry and combing your hair” Kathy comments entering the house to a sight that was new to her. They had shacked up pretty quickly, Kathy and Benny. It had been instant attraction and Benny was bull headed and handsome. Then after one of the meetings she’d made a comment about marriage and Benny had agreed with a shrug. Since then nothing had gone right between them. It was like the prospect of forever was a curse. Kathy only wanted to get closer to him, learn about him and have the same things every other woman wants. But there were things Benny would never talk about, never open up about and never share. The emotional distance became a wedge between them. Kathy needing someone to blame took it out on the club. But in all of their fights she’d never come home to Benny’s clean clothes laid out on the couch folded. Benny turns to her cigarette between his lips as he tucks the comb in his back pocket.

“One less thing for you to complain about” Benny mumbles.

“What are the other girls gonna think and say about me huh Benny? She makes her man do his own laundry?!” She snaps.

Benny sighs.

“Where were you it’s been two days?” She asks with folded arms. 

“Christ,” Benny mutters in his head looking up at the popcorn ceiling. He didn’t know where to start with Kathy, it was starting to become a nightmare. 

“Had a dress dry cleaned for you, there’s someone I want you to meet” he mutters. Kathy’s suspicions dissolve in an instant.

“Benny, babe it looks better than new” she smiles holding it too her. “Where are we going?”

“Johnny’s kid’s getting confirmed. There’s gonna be a dinner party afterword.” Benny mumbles.

“And this person’s gonna be there?” She raises a brow.

“Yep” Benny nods stepping back. He folds his black denim pants hoping it’ll do well enough and gets a black shirt. It was as formal as a bikeriders got. In her head Kathy’s heart flutters hoping for a proposal. Heading upstairs she gets all dolled up. Benny sits waiting on the couch. He wonders how today is going for you. He hopes your father’s family isn’t running you too ragged. Hopes your errands for your mother are going well. Most of all he hopes you’ll come tonight. The gang all seemed to like you and want you around. In his mind he couldn’t help but wish Kathy had your disposition about the club, it would make things a hell of a lot easier. He needed to be around you again, needed to feel safe, at peace and revel in the quiet. Half the reason he joined the club was for the chaos. There was always noise somewhere between the boys, the engines, boots, glass on the bar, the hum of the tv or radio, the hiss of a match being lit. The sound of pool balls being hit.  The sound of cigarettes being popped out of their cartons, the flick and snap of metal lighters. There was no room for thoughts, no room for anything but the present.

“How do I look?” Kathy smiles interrupting his chain smoking.

“Good” Benny forces a smile getting on his feet. Tiptoeing Kathy kisses him.

“Thank you” she says. It’s a rarity.

“You’re welcome” Benny nods leading the way out and to his bike. He starts the engine and she holds on tight.

___

You stand against the wall overwhelmed by the bustle and the informality. You hold the gift for the boy’s confirmation behind you as the place bustles with activity. It’s not your expectation of a church. There are no long robes, candles or stained glass. You forgot how forgotten this part of Chicago was. So much so there was no money to pry out of congregants to make the church beautiful. You see some of the guys being put to work ad women looking you over. You’re about to leave when Johnny catches your eye. He pauses a moment before smiling and passing off what’s in his hands to Cal.

“You came” Johnny smiles.

“I did. For your boy” you smile handing him a present and his eyes light.

“You didn’t have to” he says.

“It’s bad manners to come to a party empty handed” you shrug.

“Have you met us?” Johnny jokes. He’s was like the father figure you wish you had. “Come with me” he says giving you a half hug. “Babe, this is Benny’s old neighbour. The one I told you about. She brought the kid a gift and is standing all alone. Make her feel comfortable” Johnny says.

His wife turns to you with an easy going smile.

“Stylish, you look like you can set a table” she says.

“I can” you nod and she smiles.

“You don’t look like you’re from Benny’s neighbourhood” she says entering the basement with you. Everything has been plopped in a pile on the table.

“I am, moved away as a kid though.” You explain.

“Never known Benny to have women friends, he’s more of a lone wolf” she comments.

“I wasn’t a woman when we met. I was three.” You explain. “We had a tough childhood Benny was there for me more than my parents were and vice versa” you explain. Her eyes go misty before she swallows shaking her head.

“I know what it’s like” she smiles. “You're gorgeous and the girls can be territorial but don’t worry Johnny’s the president and I’m his old lady. You’re okay with me” she smiles touching your shoulder. You work together on the party decor making it cheerful. When you’re finished you head back upstairs with Johnny’s wife who introduces you to her friends and family. 

That’s how Benny finds you bouncing a baby on your knee. He smiles.

“What’s she doing here, Johnny has some nerve bringing his -” Kathy starts.

“Stop it Kathy, that’s who I want you to meet. We grew up together” Benny snaps being short with her. Leaving her behind he goes to you and the little one.

“Hey” he smiles hugging you again.

“Hi Benny” you smile holding the chubby baby on your hip.

“Everyone been treating you well?” Benny asks.

“Johnny made sure I was taken care of, he’s a good man” you tell Benny just as a throat clears. The woman from the precinct emerges looking dissatisfied.

“Kathy, I’m Y/N, Benny and I grew up together” you smile holding out a hand. She looks at it for awhile so you withdraw just as she decides on shaking. It’s awkward and you smile shaking her hand anyway. When you look up at Benny you can see he’s upset from the glare he’s giving Kathy.

“Benny, it’s alright” you assure him patting his side. The baby squirms from the tension and you anticipate tears. “Let me go find the boy’s mom” you force a smile leaving the couple. Kathy isn’t what you pictured for Benny as far as personality was concerned. You give Benny space not wanting to complicate his life at home and stay with the kids until it turns into taking to the guys. The service is short and sweet and everyone mixes. It’s a cast of characters but it feels like family. There’s none of the terror of your childhood or the sterility of your adolescence with debutant balls, straight posture and decorum, decorum, decorum.

You're trying to keep up with the kids’ new dance moves when you feel a hand on your waist.

“Easy there” he smiles drawing your movement to a stop. You turn to face him, every time you lay eyes on him he’s dreamier.

“You combed your hair” you smile. 

“I did” he nods letting his hand slip from your waist to your hand. He walks from out of the basement leading the way. You don’t ask questions heading up onto the roof. His eyes are all over you taking you in.

“I’m sorry about Kathy” Benny apologizes.

“Don’t be sorry” you shake your head.

“It makes me sick to see you mistreated” Benny confesses. It’s a childhood trauma of his reimagined.

“Benny, we’ve survived worse. I’m okay” you assure him.

“You shouldn’t have had to” he sighs and you take his large hand.

“Benny don’t let me be the reason you get so mad. I don’t like to see you like that. We don’t deserve to live like that again” you remind him.

“I mean look at you you're all fancy and you don’t turn your nose up at this, why should she be like that” Benny reasons.

“She probably comes from a good family Benny. Where the parents were together and functional, maybe the mom bossed the dad around and the dad nodded along in quiet compliance like in the pictures.” You shrug.

“Look at me” Benny points at himself and it’s the second time today.

“Practice in the mirror, yes Kathy, no Kathy” you tease making Benny laugh. Sighing he looks up at the stars.

“It won’t work, I’m gonna end things so I don’t end up a version of our parents yelling all the time” Benny mumbles knowing it’s for the best.

“Can’t you work it out?” You ask.

“No. She hates the club” Benny sighs sitting he leans against the sloping roof. You go to sit beside him. “It’s dirty” he warns but you sit beside him anyways. “We should go to the fair and have our pictures taken before you leave” Benny whispers pulling you in.

“Ok” you agree.

“Just the two of us” he specifies.

“I’d like that, hope the bike’s given you practice for handling the rides” you tease and he laughs. He’s laughed more in the past seventy-two hours than in all the years you were gone. “Benny don’t be careless with her, treat her well please.” You say remembering your mothers tears.

“You don’t know her, you should be on my side” Benny Scoffs.

“I am” you smile pinching his cheek. “Little Benjamin never wanted to make girls cry” you tease. Benny laughs before nodding and recalling the promises he made to myself.

“I’ll clean things up and then we’ll go to the fair” He relents.

“Good, pick me up from the hotel. I’m gonna get going.” You say.

“I can drop you,” Benny says.

“it’s alright Johnny’s wife offered. Says it’s better to skip out before the boys get crazy and after the other night I’m with her” you smile standing again. Benny follows you down the stairs and back down from the roof. You both stand outside looking out into the fields. Benny watches you, the furthest he’s been while in your presence before he walked up on you at the funeral. You’re away in deep thought, he can feel you floating, in your head and away from the party, away from him. A few steps clears the distance and he stands beside you.

“There you are, I was looking for you” Johnnys wife smiles exiting the venue. You smile at her and her son.

“Needed some fresh air and quiet” you tell her and she nods.

“Benny, you should head in and speak to Kathy” she smiles at him but in a moment Kathy materializes.

“See you later Benny, bye Kathy” you smile going to leave but Benny follows you. In plain view of Kathy he holds you tight. The trauma of you driving off without a proper goodbye fresh in his bones.

“See you for the fair” he says placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“See you then Benny” you smile letting him go and getting in the back seat.

“Benny, where were you?!” Kathy snaps as the car walks pulls off.

“I was on the roof with Y/N” Benny sighs.

“You think disappearing with a strange woman is okay? What if I did that? An old guy friend of mine comes around and I disappear with him?” She asks as Benny’s eyes follow the car down the long road.

“Kathy I don’t want to argue right now” Benny says his temper wearing thin.

“Benny!” she shouts.

“Kathy, I’m done. I’m leaving I’m clearing all my shit out. It’s over okay?! I won’t be here any longer to make you so got damn miserable. There’s nothing more to talk about” He snaps silencing her. Swallowing Kathy realizes she’s pushed too far again. He hated arguing so much leaving was always the best option in his mind.

“We can work it out later on”

“Ain’t no working it out Kathy. Do you want me to take you home?” Benny asks. “Okay get your things” he sighs after Kathy nods. Cigarettes calm his bad nerves. Kathy arrives looking sheepish. Getting on the back of Benny’s bike she holds on tight again, not wanting to let him go.

NEXT CHAPTER

Authors Note: Thanks so much for reading🩵 🎆 ! Don't forget to comment, like and reblog.

TAGS: @mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring @astrogrande @palomavz @thesaturngurl @peggyao3

[t1red-twilight]

OMG OMG can you do something with angst request #10 "i miss you. your side of the bed doesn’t even smell the same anymore" with peter :)))))) Ive been sad and need some angst to match the mood and who better to ask!!!

bereavement

summary: “i miss you. your side of the bed doesn’t even smell the same anymore.”

content/warnings: gn!reader, andrew!peter, angst, major character death, grief, descriptions of ptsd, disordered eating (if you squint)

notes: omg tysm!!! i GOTCHU girl (gender-neutral). i really really tried with this one, i hope you enjoy it. i hope you feel better, dear anon. this fic made me cry lol

word count: 1k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

you had had a grueling day at work. you hadn’t slept the night before; your head plagued with dreams and regrets that you would carry as long as you would live. everyone was bothering you in some shape or form, plus, you had forgotten your lunch.

all you wanted was peter. you opted to walk to his home instead of trying to bear the late night traffic.

when you saw him, your shoulders finally released the tension that they had been holding.

“hey, pete.” you sat down next to him. “you would not believe how hard work was today. a rude older lady harassed me about messing up one of her forms, even though she was the one that filled them out.” you slouched and looked at the ground.

the honks of busy city life filled your ears. the smell from the rain lingered. “i forgot my lunch again. i don’t have enough to eat out right now either, so i just didn’t have lunch. but that’s not a big deal.” stomach pains were something that you were becoming quite familiar with. inhaling deeply, you continued. “i canceled more plans. i know you don’t want me to, but i just want to spend any time i have, with you. I can’t bear to be further away from you.” the sound of him scolding you felt like whispers against your damp skin.

you reached up and wiped a lone tear from your cheek. smiling as wide as you could handle, you tried to ignore them.

“i want to move to somewhere quieter, but i could never leave you.” you fiddled with your fingers out of habit.

there was a pause. your ears rang. “you don’t ever have to worry about me leaving, okay? i promise. i’ll stay here as long as you need me too.”

you waited; your eyes trailed downward, head turned away. the street was still slick with the combination of the oil from the city mixed with the rain. your breathing was fitful now, tears soaking the neckline of your top.

“i miss you. your side of the bed doesn’t even smell the same anymore,” you choked out, your hands rubbing the sockets of your eyes. you scanned the graveyard before returning your gaze to where peter rested.

Peter’s headstone was simple; he never would have wanted something grandiose. you and may picked out a simple granite. it was more may’s choice than yours, you had been too hysterical to even cope with the fact that the funeral you were planning was his.

even through hysterics, it never really hit you that he was dead. not until he sunk in an urn into the earth.

he always insisted an urn, better for the environment. neither you or may could handle having him sit on your mantle. you both decided that it felt too dehumanizing.

his headstone read: Peter Benjamin Parker: Lover, Son, Hero.

“it’s not getting any easier. i still love you more than anything, peter. i’m not capable of loving someone else, i think.

“you’ve ruined me romantically.” you laughed at the thought. it was a joke, even though it rang truer and truer as each day passed.

“you are the highlight of my existence. good lord, peter. you mean so much to me. there is nothing that i wouldn’t do to see you again. or, at the very least get your pillow to smell normal again. it reeks of me.”

-

peter died in your arms.

you could not quite recall the turn of events completely, but you could very clearly remember what he had said to you last.

he stumbled into your apartment through the fire escape. it got blurry after he thudded onto the carpet.

there had been some criminal ransacking the city who had a particular vengeance for peter. every time peter went out, he came back worse and worse. the name of the scum that killed him laid dormant somewhere in your mind. you refused to even think about him, as far as you were concerned, he was beneath you.

you had known that peter’s crime fighting could result in something serious, but pete had always insisted that everything was going to end up all right.

“i got him,” he had said. you ran over to help him. everything you remembered was from the third person, like you were watching yourself from above. you couldn’t recollect anything you said in response. “finally you’ll be safe from-”

from this point everything was crystal clear. you could name the shampoo still faintly straggled in his hair. it was your shampoo; now tarnished with the intense irony scent of blood that congested the throngs of your shared bedroom.

“peter, we have got to call an ambulance.” you were getting frantic. you tried as hard as you could to hoist him up, but he resisted. his arms rested atop your shoulders as you tried and tried to lift him up.

“it’s my time, love, it’s-”

“no. just let me get you to the hospital. if you hold on just a little bit longer, we can get you fixed up, okay?”

he inhaled like he was going to say something. his forehead fell to your shoulder.

“honey?” you shook him. “peter?”

“pete? peter?” you hand moved to his scalp. you tried to thread your fingers through his hair to no avail. the matting from his blood halted you fingers as soon as you began.

“c’mon, darling. stay awake, okay?”

“peter?”

your screech was pathetic as he laid limply in your arms. his chest was concave and his left foot had been barely hanging on.

-

you changed your shampoo after that; the smell of it only ever brought you that night. whenever you closed your eyes, you saw visions of peter. you could not decide which was worse: the memories where he was happy, or the play-by-play of his soul shrinking away from yours.

nights were now filled with television reruns, your ceiling, anything that could keep you awake occupied your time. when you were asleep you could be with him again. but, you never wanted to wake up. the hollow throbbing pains of having him ripped away from you again when you woke made you an insomniac.

you doomed yourself to repeat this cycle. it was as if you ever managed to get over peter, you’d lose everything that you had of him. so, you clung to every crumb that remained. even though those crumbs were slipping through your fingers like sand and disappearing with time as days passed.

[fortunapre]

𝐀/𝐍𖧞 this is the last part. I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW: “dont stop! your writing is god-tier!“ i heard you all chant in unison.

Dont fret little ones. 🖐️🙂‍↕️ Ive surely got some more ideas in the bank...If you haven’t, go check out my prompts list <3

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𖧞 16+ (entire fic rating), swearing, mention of alcohol, mention of intoxication, a little bit o’ mischief…not really but you’ll see ;)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 oscar piastri x fem!reader

Go back?? (Scene vi) Click Here!

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𖧞 Scene VII 𖧞 (𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞)

be honest im 𝒻ℯℯ𝒹𝒿𝓃𝑔 yall

December 17th, the same night

We both walked into the room in silence.

The only noise was the shutting of the door and a barely audible “Santa Baby,” playing from the other room. Instead of looking at Oscar, I surveyed the room.

Unlike the front room, there were no Christmas decorations. It was a plain bedroom, a guy’s bedroom by the looks of it, with only a small desk and a bed. I tried to distract my gaze from the man in front of me, but the tension was growing too thick.

I reluctantly looked away from the uninteresting room and focused on him. He was no longer facing away from me- he was leaning back on the desk, hands gripping the desk on each side of his body. No matter how relaxed he seemed to be trying to look, I could see how rigid he really was.

He was looking at me, no smirk present. With how serious he looked, I thought to myself about how I kind of miss his ever-lasting grin.

He let out a deep sigh and moved to fold his arms, his body still leaning back against the desk.

I watched as he slightly turned one of his folded arms, looking at his wrist. I assume he was looking for his watch, but forgotten he’d given it up to the festive host earlier. He sighed again and looked away.

I only kept looking his way. I was blatantly staring, but what else was I supposed to do. I was hoping to get him to look at me.

My staring worked, as he probably felt my burning gaze. He looked up, brown eyes meeting mine.

“I’m guessing there’s still about six minutes left,” He finally broke the silence, and told me.

“Yeah…” I had no idea what to say. Did he want to get out of here? Or rather, did he want to get out of a locked room with only me? “..probably.” I added.

“This is stupid.” I heard Oscar mutter. I'm not sure if I meant to hear him, but I felt kind of sad at his words.

“7 minutes in heaven is always stupid. I’ve always tried to stay out of party games.” I told him, trying to save myself from feeling embarrassed. While we were sitting in a circle, and as I waited turn after turn, I dreaded when I’d be chosen. I dreaded being chosen, because I was secretly hoping the person to choose me was Oscar. And now that I’d gotten my wish, he didn’t even want me here.

He saw my reaction and acted quickly. “No, that’s not…” his words trailed off. I waited for him to finish his sentence, slightly confused. “Not the game,” he added. “That's not what I’m talking about.”

“What then? Being stuck with me?” I didn't mean to say what I was worrying about outloud, but I continued anyway “Trust me mate, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do.” I lied through my teeth. I definitely sounded defensive.

He scoffed and I saw him poke his tongue in his cheek. “Y’know what?” Oscar spoke and he sounded deeper and sharper. Apparently what I said riled him up. “Maybe If you’d let me speak, I’d tell you. Don’t start saying shit just to start something.”

I’d almost flinched at his tone and curse.

“Ok.” His anger only fueled mine. I unfolded my arms and put a hand on my hip, trying to look as unfazed as possible by his presence. “Enlighten me.”

“First of all, why would you think I wouldn’t want to be near you? Did me kissing you not once, but twice, not mean anything?” His voice was raising, but he didn’t look angry so to speak. I scrunched my eyebrows at his omission. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care, actually.” He suddenly added, catching me off guard.

It was my turn to scoff. God, and he accuses me of being an instigator. “Asshole! Of Course it meant something, it takes two to go as far as we did, you know.”

The argument held confession-notes in between the lines, but any affection or truth was smothered by our matching anger. Neither of us were understanding the words that came out of our mouths, and instead becoming more riled up by the yelling. Which, we were definitely yelling now.

“Don’t lie and try to make me feel better, Y/N. You were probably just filled with adrenaline.”

“Do. Not. Tell me how I feel. I know what I'm doing, I knew what I was doing just fine both times.”

“Really?” He had a monotone accusing tone, trying to find a lie. He seemed to be unimpressed with anything I said now.

“Yeah. Really.”

I hadn’t realized how fast my heart was beating now. I tried to slow my breathing and be the level-headed one because his head was definitely not thinking straight. Apparently he had nothing else to say, but neither had I. This argument was stupid and we both knew it.

We both stayed silent and slunk against something behind us, not daring to look at eachother.

Then, I heard him speak again and prepared an eye-roll.

“Now, what I was saying was…” Oscar started still not looking at me. “Was that I meant that I’m what's stupid.”

“That’s an understate-”

“Don’t.” He stopped me. “Don’t try to be snarky, Y/n. Let me speak.”

I just looked at him then raised my eyebrows and moved my head in a ‘Well, speak!’ motion.

Despite my attitude, he stayed calmer than before and took a deep breath. “Do you remember Christmas, two years ago?”

That same question.

What was so important two years ago? “You already asked me this…”

“Just. Yes or No? Do you remember?” He seemed suddenly on edge.

“I mean, I remember it, yeah, but are you talking about, like, a specific thing that happened? I don’t understand…” I spoke, trying to convey my confusion. He looked stern, and intent on hearing everything I had to say.

“Yeah,” he clarified. “I, um, I’m talking specifically about that night. Christmas night.”

My mind whirled as I tried desperately to pick out an obvious memory, but nothing was coming to mind.

That Christmas was the year my brother and sister didn’t come.

That Christmas was the year I was gifted the worst sweater by my mom.

That Christmas I stayed up practically all night.

I remember staying up all night, because the next morning, my mom forced me to go into town with her. I remember vividly how sluggish I’d been the whole time. But… that’s all….

Suddenly, I remembered something.

The thought of staying up triggered another thought: that night, I remember sitting on the sofa, watching a movie, when someone scared the shit out of me.

I had been peacefully wrapped in my blanket at around 4 am, when someone barreled through the door.

Oscar.

It was Oscar that scared me. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, especially Oscar since I didn’t even know he’d been out.

Two years ago, we didn’t ever talk to each other except to tease, so it’s no surprise he didn’t bother to tell me he was going somewhere.

When he came in, I was confused. My confusion grew as I’d taken in his appearance. His eyes were barely open, and his focus was darting all around the room. When his eyes met mine, his eyes opened and his body suddenly stopped. Full stop. He planted his feet and stared at me. His jaw was slack and his cheeks, from what I could tell in the little light from the kitchen behind me, was pinker than normal.

He was drunk. Oscar had come home drunk that night and had seen me when he walked through the door.

At the time, I remember laughing at him and turning back to my movie to ignore him.

But that’s not where the altercation ended– drunk Oscar had said something.

I remembered Oscar stopping, looking at me, and then he showed the broadest smile (one I'm sure would never have been directed towards me, had he been sober). Then, he sauntered closer to the sofa, out of the doorway and in front of my view of the television.

“Oscar…” I groaned. “Just go to bed, mate, your wasted.”

He stayed in place, restricting my vision and looking at me. Actually, he was staring at me. Actually he was staring all over me.

That night, I was wearing my short PJ shorts, and a Star Wars t-shirt. Nothing special, but it definitely caught drunk-oscar’s attention.

“Hello?” I tried again, but he was unrelenting.

“What?” was all he answered with.

“Get out of my way, that’s what.” I snapped, just trying to watch Princess Diaries.

He looked behind him to the screen and a grimace filled his whole face. Usually Oscar’s expressions consisted of mad and smirky-jerk, but when he was drunk, tons of emotions flashed on and off his face.

“That’s shit.” He must have been referring to the movie. His voice was groggy and deep, probably tired after what seemed like an exciting night.

“Whatever.” I gave up with the television and just wanted him to leave. “Just go to your room before someone else catches a visual of your post-party debauchery.”

“Dirty girllll,” he said slowly, borderline slurring. “Stop thinking about my de-whatever.” I quirked an eyebrow and shook my head at him. He seemed so incredibly out of it. I should totally hold this over him. Where’s my phone? I should totally film this.

I gave up looking for my phone, and looked back at oscar. Still standing there.

“Wait, what? I wasn’t at a party…” Oscar spoke, referring to my earlier statement of his “post-party” inebriation- an incredibly late reaction.

“Okayyyy…?” I said slowly. “Then what’s,” I motioned to all of him, “this?”

“Nothing.” He said rather quickly. Then his tempo changed as he looked down, almost shy. “None of your business, alright?” I nodded, but he kept speaking. “Actually, this has nothing to do with,” He copied my motion with a serious amount of sass and gestured to all of me, “…you. Ok?”

“Yeah, alright.” I was over this. He’s obviously completely drunk.

“I'm serious! Don’t accuse me of getting drunk because of my feelings, ok? Don’t even think about it. Why would I care about you… let along get drunk over fucking childhood crush on you? That’s ridiculous, and entirely possible— That’s not the point!”

Wait.

Back to the present- I now know why Oscar’s worried about that night.

Oscar must not have been that plastered if he now remembers what he said. Or rather, what he confessed. At the time I ignored his rambling and walked him to his room, away from me.

Now, I’m not sure all of that was just drunk-rambling.

Oscar was watching me figure everything out, watching me realize what he was so afraid of.

“I remember you rambling about having a… but there’s no way.” I said out loud to him, voicing my spinning thoughts. He just kept looking at me. “Right?” My voice got softer as I took in what Oscar’s silence might mean. “But you hated me.”

“Y/N.” He spoke like I was stupid.

“What?” I fired back, getting defensive.

“I never hated you, think about it.” He was trying to make me realize it, but all of my memories of him are arguments– save the past week.

“I am thinking about it. You always picked on me and fought with me. You said the meanest things and I always fought back. We’ve never gotten along…” I tried to list.

Then, all of a sudden, a smirk formed on his face.

That same smirk I’d claimed I’ve been missing, now felt weirdly… intimate?

“Oscar, you…” I didn’t know what to say.

“Yeahh” Is all he replied with, smirking and telling me all I need to know with one look. He started to move closer to me.

Step by step, he slowly walked towards me like he was testing my reaction. I just let him come closer and closer until we were face to face. Pine and wintergreen filled my senses. Our eye contact never waivered.

“Y/n, I don’t mean to bring this all up now.” he gestured to the door. His smirk lessened in intensity as he tried to apologize.

I suddenly remembered we’re in the middle of a 7 minutes in heaven game. And that it’s definitely been longer than 7 minutes.

(My sister was the culprit of our unexpected extra time, having told them to leave us alone.)

I focused back on the man in front of me. The man who had practically just confessed to me that he had a childhood crush on me. A childhood crush that he claims has never left.

“This is stupid.” I copied his words form before.

“Oh?” Oscar almost recoiled, hurt flashing on his face.

“No! Not… Not you! Not this.” I reacted and grabbed at the front of his shirt, not wanting him to misunderstand me and turn away.

Both of our breathing hitched at the contact, and the proximity it brought.

“Ok, then what do you mean?” He said, softly. His eyes were trained on my lips. I opened my mouth and closed it again, not knowing how to say this.

“I mean I’m stupid. Im stupid for not realizing it sooner. Im stupid for being so harsh and rude and-” I started apoligizing as my emotions began rising.

“I was rude too.”

“Yeah, but you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. His confession was still new. However, the more I thought about him— Oscar Piastri, my rival and hater in every way—my mind started to clarify.

“Yeah, I…” He couldn’t say it either it seems.

We both stood close, not fully saying what we meant out loud yet still fully understanding what each other meant and wanted.

Seconds passed by of us relishing the new emotions, my grip never leaving him. We practically shared air at how close we were and our eyes locked. I started to feel what could only be described as butterflies.

It washed over me and the idea hit me like a train: I wanted him too. Maybe more than he wants me.

At this revelation I tugged him to my level and brought my lips to his ear.

I didn’t want to waste anymore time arguing or lying to ourselves.

I took a short breath and then whispered, “let’s get out of here.”

Then in almost one motion he smiled, a devilishly handsome smirk, then he grabbed my hand and took us away from the party.

Away from prying eyes.

hehehehhehehe 🫵💋

OH? WHATS THAT?!?! YOU GOT HERE FIRST BECAUSE, gasp!, you’re on my taglist?!?!?

any other people i missed or new people that want to be tagged, COMMENT or MESSAGE ME!

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𖧞

@someinsanefangirl @iloveotters11 @chunkpiboli @marauders-wife @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @verstxppen33 @silverxxs-world @zupercoolgirl @forza-charles @il0vereadingstuff

my apologies if i couldn’t tag you but hopefully you got my messsge <3

[acerathia]

drowning in you || Rafayel | Qi Yu

Summary:

Valentinesday doesn't work out, does it?

Wordcount: 2.5k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Qí Yù | Rafayel / Reader | MC

Tags/CW:

established relationship, dancing and kissing in the rain, flirting, bathing and washing each other, non-sexual intimacy, references(spoilers) to Mainstory and Myth, Moles as lasting kisses from the last life, implied sexual content after fic, domestic fluff

Note:

Happy Valentines!! I wrote this bc I go insane for him oops

With a little smile, you let your phone slide back into your bag. Rafayel has told you to come to the park nearby, and you wonder what he’s planning, hopefully not another trip on a boat, the simple memory makes you shiver. After that incident, you would never trust him with an oar ever again. But because you’re supposed to meet him at the entrance of the park, you assume it must be something slightly drier.

– where r u? ive been waiting for ages

omw! close to the entrance of the park –

You round the last corner, and immediately spot his figure, arms crossed, close to the park. For a moment, you take your time to look at him, the way the sun shines between his hair, giving him some sort of underwater feeling. But you can’t help but squint when you notice his attire, one you have seen before, one Rafayel usually wears when meeting for some art stuff of his. You brush it off, it’s usual for him to wear something that draws the eye, being an artist and all, he does love showing his aesthetic with his clothes.

He seems to have sensed you, because he turns in your direction, and while you smile at him and hurry your steps to get closer to him, his lips push slightly forward.

“Finally, I thought you had forgotten about me! Did you look at the time? It’s been ages, I feel like I’m about to see fish walk on land,” he mutters the moment you stop in front of him.

“Well, I think I already see one,” you grin, before cupping his cheeks carefully. “In fact, this fish is right in front of me.”

The pout doesn’t disappear entirely, but it does soften as he leans closer to your skin. “See? I was right, you’ve left me waiting for too long.”

A huff of breath hits your face softly before he straightens up, not even waiting for your answer as he takes your hand in his, entwining your fingers together. “It doesn’t matter, you’re here now. Let’s go.”

Hand in hand, you both enter the park, and follow the path for quite some time. You have no idea what Rafayel wants to show you, so you only walk by his side, simply enjoying this quality time while looking around the place in peace.

The park seems huge, as before you both even arrived at his set destination, you begin to feel something cold hitting your head. You scrunch your face and look up, only for a drop of water to hit your cheek, your eyelids. You blink in surprise as the rain falls, multiplying with each second, with each step.

A groan, and your gaze immediately flicks to Rafayel, who’s gingerly holding a hand over his head. “Great, now everything is ruined… Did the weather forecast make a mistake? I even checked it for today” He turns to you and meets your eyes. “Let’s go back, c’mon.”

He sighs, disappointment apparent in the way his shoulders slump. “I guess, we’re going to make it up another time… Let’s hurry up and escape this annoying rain.”

You squeeze his hand as you follow his brisk steps into the direction you both came from. “It’s okay, spending time with you is more than enough for me.”

Your words only seem to make him walk faster, the rain hitting your face softly, and you can’t help but slow down slightly.

Laughing, you can’t help but tease him. “But let’s slow down a bit. You’re not going to turn into a mermaid the moment water touches you, are you?”

He turns around to face you, his face scrunched up in a pout. “How ridiculous! That only happens in those TV series. And we’re both already wet, wouldn’t it be too late to consider that anyway?” He cocks his head to the side, before a smug look takes over. “Unless you want me to turn into one to ogle at me, hm? Wouldn’t you like that?” With these words, he leans closer towards you, a grin over his plush lips.

Your eyes flick towards them before returning to his eyes, his lashes clumped and longer with the dripping water. You feel a heat creeping up your neck, and now you’re the one with a small pout on your lips. For a moment, you don’t have any comebacks, so you decide to do what always works the best.

Your free hand grabs his shoulders and you stretch slightly towards him. Your lips meet his. And despite the cold water, his skin is warm against yours. Without missing a beat, his arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you closer, stealing another peck before you could fully pull away.

Once there’s some space between your faces, you can’t help but grin at the redness spreading over the tips of his ears, but you want to see that color over his cheeks. So, you put your lips against his cheeks, closer to his ears.

“Of course I want to see you naked,” you whisper at him, and he immediately pulls away, the color bleeding into the rest of his face.

He holds his hands in front of his face, shielding it from your view. “Wh-what are you talking about?” he stammers, taking a small step back.

You can’t help but think how adorable he looks this flustered, but you stop teasing him, as the rain makes you feel cold, and you imagine he starts feeling the same. Taking his hand once again, you step closer to him and let your forehead rest against his chest.

Almost immediately, despite his embarrassment, his arm winds up against you, his face hot against the skin on your neck. Your other hand comes up to stroke through the wet strands of his hair, now closer to a darker blue when soaked like this.

You don’t know who starts it, but you both begin to slightly rock, a small dance under the rain, interlocked, heart against heart, listening to a tune only you both could hear.

“Let’s go home…” you whisper against his skin, feeling the goosebumps over it.

A sigh on your own skin, and he straightens up, his gaze wandering over your face, filled with something complex, something that warms you despite the cold seeping into your clothes.

Once he nods, you both are on your way again, heading towards the closest apartment of one of you. It doesn’t take long, and you’re glad to be out of the rain, because the moment you enter your home, the rain picks up, the wind sweeping over the streets. You really don’t want to know how it feels to be there.

Soaking wet, you begin to strip yourself of your shoes and socks. “I’m going to take a shower to warm up,” you tell him, and without words he just follows you on your heels.

It’s a burdensome task to get rid of the wet clothes sticking to your skin, but you manage it nonetheless. The heat of the turned on water is already spreading through the air, and you’re almost excited to get under it. With your focus on the upcoming warmth, a squeak of surprise escapes you, when you feel his cold fingers around your waist, his lips against the back of your neck.

You turn your head slightly towards him and kiss the corner of his lips, your fingers intertwining with his, before you fully turn around, your fingers carefully helping him out of his wet clothes, scattering soft kisses here and there over his cold skin. After that, you wordlessly pull him with you to stand under the warm rain of the shower.

For a moment, you let the heat seep into you, relax your muscles, before you grab the shampoo bottle. But instead of slathering it onto your own hair, you motion for him to lean down. Once he does, you put a good portion of the shampoo into his hair, and begin to massage it in, spreading it over his scalp and hair. You watch as he closes his eyes, leaning closer to you.

After you’re thoroughly done, you let him lean his head under the water once again, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair with soft strokes, your hands taking care of each strand, massaging his scalp. Once everything is truly gone, you grab one of your conditioners to take a bit of into your hands, spreading them over your palms before you begin to rub it into the ends of his hair.

A low hum sounds from him and he shuffles a little closer, his hands finding your waist, as always, keeping them there to anchor himself.

Allowing the conditioner to set, you grab his loofa, the one he has deposited ages ago, making himself at home in your home, sharing it with you. Making sure the foam has spread properly all over it, you begin to gently scrub his skin, his shoulders, his arms. You can’t help yourself but scatter some kisses here and there, on his jaw, on his neck.

Coming up to his chest, your eyes lock onto the tiny mole there. “Did you know, some people say that moles are an indication of where our past love has kissed us, over and over again,” you whisper against his skin before kissing the mole softly. “I will love you, for all of my lifetimes, over and over again… And I want to give you something to remember this one, and every one after…”

You’re vaguely aware that you have met Rafayel in your last lifes. And even if your memory is hazy, pieces coming up to you in blurry dreams, you know that you have loved him, and you will continue to love him, for as long as time allows you to exist.

You look up to him, his eyes wide, glazy with swirling emotions. Instead of saying anything, he leans down and catches your lips with his in something sweet, filled with love, of the past, present and future. You melt into his touch, into his warmth, into his steady presence. There isn’t another place you would love to be more than at his side.

For a moment, you let your thoughts focus on him, on the way he calls your name, on the way his ears blush when flustered, on the way he teases you with so much affection.

One last peck, and you continue with your endeavor, gently scrubbing his skin, massaging the tension out of his muscles.

After you make sure that he’s relaxed and clean, you once again guide him towards the water, letting the water glide over his body, warmth seeping into him and relaxing him a bit more. You gently grab his hair and massage all the conditioner away, until all that’s left are his pretty strands of hair.

Your lips meet his forehead, before you turn to take care of your own hair. But before you could even grab the bottle, he does, a bit of the liquid on his palms to slather onto your hair.

With the amount of knowledge he has on you, on your routine and day to day life, he manages to perfectly take care of your hair, his fingers carefully moving on your scalp, caressing the tension there out of your head.

A sigh escapes your lips and this time you’re the one stretching closer towards him, arms around his waist.

Rafayel rinses your hair carefully, each strand flowing through his fingers, and you enjoy each touch of his. Especially when he swipes your hair away to reveal your neck, placing a soft kiss there.

Despite being done, you both stay like this for a moment, his face against your shoulder, your fingers drawing random symbols on his skin, intertwined, skin to skin, warmth to warmth.

Just when you notice your fingers getting prune, do you turn off the water, reaching for the towels to dry up. You pass him his own, and watch as he dabs the water away, before wrapping it around his waist. You begin to feel a little bit warmer when he reaches up to swipe his hair away from his face, running his fingers through the strands, making them stick like that.

You turn around to take care of yourself and leave the bathroom to step into the bedroom, one supposedly belonging to you, yet filled with his trinkets and clothes. You step around some paint brushes clustered on the ground and grab a shirt and other clothes.

Once you put them on, you notice how the shirt belongs to him, something he has left behind after one of his escapades from the journalists. You don’t take it off though, rather you turn towards him as he pulls his pants on, a soft piece of clothing, perfect to sleep in.

His eyes glance up to you, getting stuck on his shirt on you, and you smile as you watch the redness bleeding into his ears, into his cheeks.

He crosses his arms, looking away. “So, you’re now also stealing my clothes now?”

You raise your eyebrows at this. “Uhm, what else have I stolen from you, Rafayel?” you ask, well aware that everything scattered around your place is due to him bringing it over. You can’t say you don’t love seeing his stuff around your place, though. It makes it more livelier, happier.

At your words, he turns around and begins prancing towards you, and you take a step back, your shins hitting the edge of the bed. He leans closer to your face, his eyes running over your face, admiring every single feature of yours, almost like his eyes have landed on an artwork.

You suddenly feel shy under his gaze, so you try to lean back, but when you try to do so, you end up falling onto the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

Instead of letting up, Rafayel puts both his hands on the side of your thighs, supporting himself on the bed to follow you.

“How dare you forget. You have stolen my heart, over and over again,” he whispers against your lips, before dipping in and taking a taste of your lips once again.

A small laugh of yours is drowned by his lips, as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him with you onto the bed. Drops of water fall onto your face from his wet hair, yet you don’t care at all. All that matters is him, Rafayel in your arms and his lips on yours.

With a puff of air, he lands on you, and as the kiss breaks apart for a moment, you take your time to admire his face, the soft lips, his translucent eyes, almost glowing every time he catches your gaze. He doesn’t give you much time, though, before he kisses you again, and again, each kiss making your heart thump with excitement, with all those emotions he manages to awaken in you.

And you’re happy to be the one waking up by his side, spending every lifetime as the person he loves. To be the person who loves him truly in every life.

You can’t help but shudder when his lips move over your jaw to your throat, when he softly murmurs against your skin.

“Let me drown in you…”

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

Imagine: Mike is back at his mall security guard job, and reader works at the support desk, but more specifically; is in charge of the lost and found.

1st time was because he found an forgotten phone (or something), and was told to take it to the lost and found, where he first met reader.

Then he starts being extra vigilent when walking around, looking for any item that looks misplaced or lost, no matter how unimportant, just as an excuse to go to the lost and found to talk to reader

(Ive never done this before, so sorry if i did anything wrong!)

lost and found | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none! just a nice little fluffy piece about a sad sad man lol <3

to the asker, i hope you know that i saw this in my inbox and literally squealed, i was waiting for someone to drop a mike request

i hope that this is to your liking, i was going back and forth trying to decide how to start this off and coming up with tiny little ideas to add

also this probably goes without saying, but i have never worked at a mall nor interacted with mall staff if i can help it so if anything sounds off, feel free to correct me

to anyone who also writes on tumblr, pls tell me how you avoid using y/n, i tried to work around it as much as possible but some times just called for it

you hold your polite (albeit strained) smile to the blubbering woman walking away, unsure what to do with yourself as whoever she stands with rubs her back in comfortable circles. another lost wedding ring, gone to the test of time as long as the mall shall live: it's not that you didn't feel bad but after wedding ring #120, you kind of start to get used to the routine of things. lost and found wasn't your first choice when you first started working here but as long as you were getting a paycheck, you weren't going to complain. your side of the mall was rarely visited anyway, giving you the opportunity to do plenty of people watching when you weren't rummaging through piles of lost sweaters and purses.

you let out a quiet sigh once the customers are gone, sitting back in your seat and picking up the book you had once been reading; not like there was anything better to do. fully immersed in your book, you don't even notice the footsteps coming up to the counter. "um, hey." you jolt a bit at the sound of a voice, your gaze snapping from your book to whoever is standing only a few feet away. you have to hold back your reaction when you meet his eyes, tired but trying their best to look interested; it takes you a second to realize this is security and not another customer. "shoot, sorry." you mumble with an awkward smile as you sit up, resting your book in your lap to give the man in front of you your full attention. "how can i help you?" with a thin-lipped smile, he holds up a purse; from the looks of the logo on it, it's obvious this is designer.

you whistle as you take the purse from him, examining it with raised eyebrows. "well, you don't see this everyday. someone should come back for it, thanks." you say, flashing a grin at the security guard as he gives you a much more genuine smile. "no problem. if i had known lost and found got to see stuff like this, i would have put in to work over here instead." he says with a chuckle, folding his hands in front of him as he leans on the counter. "oh, we don't get interesting stuff that often, i promise you." you say with a roll of your eyes, putting the purse behind the counter; anyone in their right mind would come back for this thing. "enlighten me." before you can say something, the security guard outstretches a hand to you with a smile. "i'm mike, by the way. i work security." he says as you shake his hand, raising your eyebrows at him playfully. "(y/n). to give you some insight into how very little happens here, try and guess how many gachapon toys i have behind this counter."

and just like that, you've made a friend; not that you'd admit that mike wasn't sore on the eyes this soon. you just found it easy to talk to him considering you had never seen him around up until this point. after your first meeting, mike would regularly stop by whether he had something lost to leave with you or not: if you were lucky, he would even join you for lunch or walk you out at the end of a shift. little by little, you couldn't help but anticipate his arrival, the same relaxed smile always on his face much unlike the first time he'd approached you.

it's been almost a month by this point, you've had so many lost items deposited to you that after a while, throwing things away or reselling them (specific orders from your boss who was rather shocked at how many items you had in the back room) was required after a certain amount of time: not like anyone came back for them anyway. today was no different than the rest, the sounds of buzzing conversation in the distance from the more crowded areas of the mall. you pop the gum in your mouth as you paint your thumbnail a light-yellow color, scrunching your nose a bit at the smell of the nail polish. you blow softly on it, your eyes glancing up to scan your surroundings. what you see nearly makes you laugh. mike is walking over, seemingly at his normal pace before something catches his attention; whatever it is, you most definitely can't see it. when he stoops down to inspect it, he makes a face that you can only decipher as him being slightly annoyed. he catches you looking at him, an embarrassed smile on his face as he makes the rest of the walk of shame over to you when he realizes he's been caught.

"well, what is it this time? a broken watch? some cap with an unexplainable stain on it?" "what kind of person do you take me for? i'm just a faithful employee trying to do my job." mike says as he extends his arms with a playful smile, making you role your eyes as you abandon your nail polish to look up at the man in front of you. you close your eyes as you hold out your hand to him expectantly, waiting for him to drop something into your palm; after how often he came around, you made it something of a guessing game as to what mike was going to bring out. surprisingly, it's small, definitely plastic from the muted sound it makes when it lands in your hand. "it's a toy." "warm enough. you can open your eyes." you start to say something, opening your eyes and inspecting the item in your hand before you pause.

a small, plastic cat sits on a swing, it's paws holding on to the small chains attached to a brightly colored tab; it's obvious you could hang this off a shelf. your cheeks redden a bit as a sheepish smile grows on your face, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as your other hand holds it up to inspect it further. you'd never actually stopped at the capsule toy machines yourself, starting your collection only a few weeks after starting your job when they popped up so frequently at the counter. "you like it?" you blink at mike as he smiles fondly at you, one hand propping his chin up; you swear you can see a hint of smugness in his gaze. "it's..yeah. it's cute." you say, unable to help the way you giggle a bit as you hang the toy on the edge of the counter. "good. better hope no one come's looking for it." he chuckles softly, his eyes dropping from yours for a moment as you stare in delight at the newest addition to your collection. "i wouldn't give it to them anyway. not knowing you got it for me." mike's lips part a bit in shock, a scoff of disbelief leaving him despite the smile on his face as you smile up at him knowingly. he tries to defend himself, stuttering to say something before you're called by one of your coworkers. "duty calls." you giggle as you rise from your seat, pretending not to notice the way mike is still trying to recover from being caught as you make your way over to your coworker, a smile tugging at your lips.

SECOND ONE SHOT IN A WEEK HOLY MOLY THIS IS NEW to the asker, i hope you enjoyed this, i tried to add my own little spin to things just to give it that little extra romantic flair lol BUTTT i hope that all of you are having a good rest of your day/night/afternoon and stay safe! :D

[kuni-is-daddy]

I just want Scara to be an asshole giving me mixed signals, he sees us one day talking with Dottore and that’s a big no. He’s going to have to show you that your his (please I’m so down bad for this man) 🛐🛐

OMG AAA THAT MADE ME SAD BCUZ I SPECIFICALLY DONT FW DOTTORE BC OF SCARA. BUT THATS WHY HES SUCH A GOOD VILLAIN 😭

Brat.

DOM!Scaramouche x SUB! Female fatui harbinger reader.

Scara fic list

1.2k WORDS. FILTH.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Dottore trying to convince you to antagonize scaramouche and take advantage of him just so he can get off more experiments. Mentioning how its visible that scaramouche has a 'tolerance to you' unlike the rest of the fatui(except his 'bestie' Childe) Scaramouche would overhear this and only this part of the conversation.

Scaramouche would distance himself from you during dinner and missions for the rest of the week. During a gathering to honor childe and La signora for retrieving the geo archons gnosis you'd stand next to him and begin the conversation.

"Kuni? Love? How is your missions going? You've been busy lately and...we really havent had much time to talk. Do you want to catch up at my place after?" Scara had no intention of talking to you for god knows how long because he was truly hurt after seeing you talk to dottore. He started to believe over the course of the days he's been distant to you that you just didnt care, but after hearing 'you've been busy lately' he just assumed that you really we're oblivious. At the thought of it he smirked and then scoffed you off with a "Ok" while you smiled and gave him a one sided hug.

Scara who would purposely leave the gathering early just to wait for you inside your room in your house, Only with a black shirt and shorts on. "Oh- Kuni..Your already..here..I forgot you had a key. I see you made yourself at home" Youd try to brush it off with a laugh but his cold gaze upon you just gave you shivers. He pinned you against the wall and asked you immeditately. "What we're you doing with dottore?"

Smutt:

'Dottore..how did-' "S-scara We're you spying on me?!" he scoffed "Of fucking course i was? Where the hell we're you?! Ive been looking for you for fucking days and then I catch you with that bastard?! Have you forgotten what HE did to me y/n?" "No! No i havent.. Is that what this is about? because i talked to Dottore 1 time your all frustrated like this?" Scara was even more pissed off. first you talk to his enemy then act like its nothing. He was beyond fed up. "Kuni.. please, It was just for work. I would kill him in a heartbeat if it wasn't for our Excellency." "Yeah I know what fucking work you two we're talking about. Taking advantage of me? Huh? is that what you wanted to do Brat." "What?! no Kuni I'd never hurt-" He slammed his hand around your throat "AGh- Kuni-" "how about I take advantage of you huh? You want that?" You knew you were going to get punished anyway, god you despised your job even more. "Y-yes.. Kuni." "Good, that's what I wanted to fucking hear from you brat. Take off your top."

You nervously strip Infront of your s/o after he releases his grip off of your neck, gasping for air. "Shit look at these tits.." he leaned his head towards your chest, looking up at your expression before licking around your boobs. "Kuni~ stop.." you moaned while placing your hand against his smooth hair. "No. I'm going to mark your fucking body so you know your mine. Take it like a good girl." He caressed both of your breasts with his hands while rubbing your nipples with his finger. "K-Kuni! Be gentle..ah..your going too rough~" "shit.. I love how sensitive you are around your breasts. Makes me so hard. Are you wet for me Y/n?" You panned your face away and pouted. He grabbed hard on one of your boobs "AH~ Y-YES KUNI~" "Your so pathetic y/n, I'm trying to take your punishment slow yet you can't even answer for me. Maybe I should take you right now." He pulled away from your chest and moved his fingers down to your pants. You tried to pull away yet only now realizing you we're still against the wall. "Your so..wet y/n....love hearing your body throb for me..just like that.", He bit into the side of your neck, sucking while rubbing his finger against your clit "Scara..please AH~"

"Mmm mmm brat~ don't fucking beg for me now. I don't care about some shit rank, you need to know your worth. How your mine. How your my cocksleve. We're you showing yourself off to that sick fuck? Could he make you moan out like this?" "N-nO master~ I wouldn't..im' all yours~" Kuni's hard on grew though his pants. "Yeah theirs my good girl. Say master again and I'll let you cum on my fingers." His pace became rapid, scara put 2 inside of you as both of your body's jerked back and forth against the wall as if he was fucking you. It was too much, you could feel your heartbeat fastening in your chest, the lewd moans you let out while scara kept moaning praises in your ear "Yeah..just like that. Cum on masters fingers, be my good girl. Y/n. Cum for me. Cum baby."

"M-MASTER AH~ F-FUCK KUNI~" you gripped onto his back hard as you came along his fingers, legs shaking from the burning orgasm you just had. "God..look at how much you came on my fingers." He licked up your juices. "Ugh...you taste so good y/n. So fucking good. Maybe I shouldn't punish you since you did so well." He began picking up your shirt and bra. Up until you got on your knees, sticking your tongue out while pointing towards your mouth. He turned his head and immediately dropped your clothes. "Mmm look at this. And here I was thinking to let out off the hook" he squatted down to your height. Staring at the newfound desperation in your eyes while grabbing your hair.

"I don't care if the tsaritsa herself or the divine wants you against me. You'll only listen to me. And you'll only be mine, Y/N."

[stevie-petey]

Hi m! I had a short blurb idea for you. Could we see Jonathan's pov after his fight with Nancy, and what drove him to go to bugs house? Also his POV throughout their car ride together? Thank you! ❤️

finally had time to get to this one and YES i can <333

enjoy !

"well then i guess we just dont understand each other anymore."

the pain in nancys voice hasnt left jonathans mind since he dropped her off at home hours ago.

he lays in his bed, sheets cold as the night creeps upon him. do they really not understand each other anymore? jonathan knows he understands nancys frustration, how painful it is to be overlooked, but how can he explain to her that hes unable to understand the feeling of security?

hes never had that before in his life. ever since he was a boy, his life has been defined by instability and insecurity.

it was meeting you that brought some sense of security into jonathans life. youre the only thing jonathan considers a constant in his life; he trusts that youll always be a part of him.

he isnt like nancy. he doesnt have a mom who attends to his needs. a house in a cul de sac with freshly painted shutters. jonathan doesnt have the privilege of being a kid, not when hes been helping to pay for his familys rent ever since he was fourteen and legally able to work. he isnt able to lose a job that can pay for his college like nancy can.

security is a foreign concept to jonathan that he cant understand, yet he understands that the burn within him is his love for nancy. and he understands that he cant lose her.

sighing, jonathan gets out of bed and towards the phone in the kitchen. he has to hear your voice, soothe his nerves, maybe even cry. right now, jonathan needs his best friend.

youll know what to do. you always do.

when he calls you and you sound just as exhausted as he feels, he knows that tonight will be one of your driving nights. a few years ago, when your only worries were exams and parental issues, you and jonathan would drive around hawkins late at night and pretend you were the only two people to exist.

as you got older, the need to drive became few and far between, but tonight jonathans chest is heavy and your voice sounds frail.

hes at your house in ten minutes, and within fifteen he has you in his passenger seat with an old mix tape playing as julys cool night seeps through the car. and, within thrity minutes, youve unwoven all of the intricate strings of fear and uncertainty within jonathan.

he loves you for how easily you put him at ease.

you simultaneously support jonathans side while also vehemently defend nancys. you console him, yet you also gently pry his head out of his ass.

"it frustrates me how you always manage to say the right thing." i love how you love me.

"youve known me for years now, its your fault for not getting used to it." ive grown up learning how to love you.

its easy. its as easy as breathing when it comes to you, and jonathan inhales as much of you as he can. for as long as he can, for as much as hes able to.

and then you break jonathans heart with six words.

"im terrified he'll be another 'almost'."

its as easy as breathing, and jonathan wishes that he could exhale for you. he hasnt forgotten the lines that were once almost his to cross. how he had you, all of you, and now youre steves and hes nancys.

in the end it was all for the best, but jonathan hates the scars he left behind. he hadnt meant to, they will always mar your body, and he will never forgive himself for it.

"im sorry, bug." he shouldve apologized earlier. he knows this.

he wishes that there was more he could do, more he could say. but hes never been good with words and hes scared he'll overstep somehow. say the wrong thing, hurt you even more. so instead jonathan holds your hands, kisses away your tears, and silently prays that steve doesnt make the same mistake that he did.

youre steves now, anyone can see that. you love him so deeply and freely that jonathan cant help but admire how beautiful it is. he can see it in steve, too. how much he loves you.

that boy adores you.

jonathan understands the feeling. he always will.