#assorted shower thoughts

[kisakunt]

megumi’s pissed— pissed with a big, capital p. he’s bothered a lot; irritated and agitated with people daily, no stranger to fingers curling into a fist either at his sides or to the top of someone’s head. but right now, in the cold of your room, he’s pissed.

“take this shit off.” he won’t dare lift his hands himself because if megumi is a man of anything it’s principle. you laugh— louder than a giggle but nonetheless muffled by your pursed lips— and shake your head.

“no can do, nutmeg.” and now he’s really mad.

“don’t call me that.” he’s itching, his normally protruding hair flattened, his palms clammy, his breathing shallow.

“c’mon, why are you so miserable all the time?” it’s a slow drawl, a whine that he has to force himself to ignore. “can’t you show a little joy? maybe even some jubilance? or dare you say it might kill you?”

your name comes out stern, calculated and pointed in a way he knows will get to you, and simply, he repeats himself.

“take this shit off.”

megumi fushiguro is not a big believer of tradition. he has never obsessed over a birthday— although he did buy you a singular cupcake and candle on yours— or stressed at the thought of marriage. he’s not big on anniversaries and he couldn’t care less about a baby shower or bachelor party, so naturally holiday’s mean nothing to him.

you on the other hand are, in his own words, a nutcase. you’d met him two weeks before the christmas prior and insisted you get each other small trinkets. on valentine’s day you gave everyone you knew a card, on easter you mastered the art of making your very own chocolate, on halloween you bought a costume that he refused to wear.

and now, here you are again; snow on the ground outside and a small, and frankly sad, tree in your room symbolizing not only the biggest day of your year but an absolutely grueling year of knowing you.

you sit in front of him, criss cross, with a goofy little grin on your face. he can’t help but think it’s utterly disgusting that that’s doing something for him. regardless though, he stands his ground.

“if you don’t take this off right now i’m not talking to you for a week.” you laugh for real this time, shaking your head with more energy than before.

“well we both know that’s a lie. i’d probably drop dead if you did that and then, overwhelmed by guilt, you’d turn into an even weirder and sadder old man.”

“i’m not old. take this shit off.” atop his head sat a truthfully horrific santa hat. it couldn’t have cost more than two dollars, assortment of dim led lights on the trim. he can’t help but think of how many little, lice ridden kids must have tried this on. but he still won’t budge.

“you know you can just take it off yourself, right?” he does know that— obviously— but again, he has beliefs. he has pride. it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you’re looking at him like he’s heaven on earth or the matching hat smothering your own hair. it has nothing to do with you at all.

he shifts, leaning his body weight onto his left side as he presses his hands into the plush of your bed to lift himself up. he makes a little show of it, slow and meticulous as he barely raises himself.

it would be so easy to avoid this situation. it would be so simple to shake his head or yank the hat off or have stopped you from putting it there to begin with.

megumi’s pissed, but it’s not with you.

“i’m serious. it’d actually be nice to have a moment of quiet in my brain.” megumi is furious, livid and squirming in his own skin. he’s absolutely, unequivocally angry.

he’s angry because he can’t figure out why for the dear life of him there’s a tightly wrapped gift tucked in the bottom of his bag, or why he knows the nearly exact color hex of your eyes, or why he’s hummed— hummed— the song ‘war is over’ twice this week.

you grumble, butt hurt and annoyed now too, and you reach over as fast as you can and snatch it off of him.

“there,” and now megumi’s even more upset because that upset him and his head feels cold and empty now. “happy now?”

and before he can think, before he can be as calculated as he always is, it slips.

“no.” and in that moment something shifts. it’s both of you, just a little bit towards each other, it’s the tension that’s now (and always has been) in the air, it’s the way your hat slips a little to the side.

“well i just can’t win with you, can i?” the— his— hat lays loose between your fingers, your voice quieter than he thinks he’s ever heard it.

megumi wonders time to time if he’s a coward. he knows he’s strong, he knows he’s just in his opinions, he knows he fights. but sometimes he freezes and sometimes he panics and sometimes he can’t look you in the eye.

maybe it’s time for him to be brave. he leans into you, closer to you, breathing you all in and, brushing your fingers in the process, he takes it back from you.

suddenly it’s warm again. suddenly you’re matching again. suddenly he feels close to you again.

“there.” for once, it feels like christmas to megumi. “happy now?” and it feels like he’s got a gift in front of him.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of blood and injuries, survival instincts are non existent, hints at past violence/abuse, toji is an asshole but he's trying !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: ignore that i formatted this part all pretty while part 1 is just an ugly drabble. i just didn't expect to turn this into a series lmao. anyways please read part one before reading this so that it actually makes a lick of sense !! also i added people who asked for part two to the tag list so if you wanna be added/removed just lmk :3

you mutter a quiet curse as you step in a dirty puddle, eyes squinting through the torrents of rain pouring from the dark sky. it's bad enough you got out of work so late, but the heavy storm did nothing to make the journey home easier. you grip your umbrella tighter, even though your clothes have still been dampened by stray droplets, and speed up the pace.

it has not poured like this in your city for quite a few weeks now, and the change in weather would be pleasant if you weren't being hit by it full force—indoors, curled on your couch under a blanket, would be ideal. that's what you plan to do after you get inside, after a warm shower and dinner.

speaking of dinner, you're late for your routine meal drop off for your new hybrid acquaintance. though you're almost sure that toji won't be in his usual spot in the alleyway by your apartment in this weather, probably taking shelter where he normally does when the outside is too harsh. plus even if he decided to take his chances to come for food, he would've left as soon as he noticed his plate wasn't there.

you haphazardly push yourself through your front door, nearly tripping as you attempt to close the umbrella while simultaneously avoiding the rain. you inhale deeply once you're safe, leaning back against the door as you catch your breath. the rain sounds are muffled now that you are in your little cocoon of an apartment, and you immediately pull your wet shoes off with a grimace.

half an hour later you're stepping into the warmest, most comfortable pajamas you own, body now clean and thrumming with the freshness that only a good shower can provide. your stomach growls as you step into the kitchen, the rain still slapping against your window, and you immediately try to throw together whatever food you can find.

thanks to toji's daily rations, you have an assortment of meat in your fridge, but you settle for eating some rice and curry, choosing to leave meat for a day where the wolf is actually around.

you're halfway through your meal when you hear familiar sounds in your alleyway, and you can't help the way your jaw drops.

"oh my god there is no way," you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to your door and slipping on your shoes. grabbing your umbrella and snapping it open, you duck under it to avoid once again getting drenched by the downpour, the splashing sounds of your footsteps echoing through the alleyway.

even though he is soaked to the bone, toji looks unbothered, sitting against the wall lazily. his dark ears are laying low against his head, but they twitch to life at the sound of you approaching. you ignore the normal distance that is kept between the two of you, opting to stop right in front of him so you can hold the umbrella over his head. "what are you doing out in this rain?"

"you're late today." he ignores your question, green eyes sliding up your figure to meet your gaze. you shake your head in exasperation, staring down at him with a frown.

"yeah i got held up at work." you adjust the umbrella a little, and toji's eyes flick towards it, as though just realizing it's there. "i didn't think you'd be out here."

"came by earlier and saw your lights were off and you weren't home," he grunts, shaking his wet hair out of his. "just thought it was weird."

(he does not mention how long he sat and waited for you to get back, ears perking at every little noise that turned out to be nothing. he does not mention that after a while he got up to circle the area, eyes on high alert and a rising aggression in his demeanor, only to come back and find your lights on.)

"oh," you say lamely, blinking through mist. toji gets to his feet, and you reel at the way he towers over you. he shakes his head, the water from his ears and hair splashing haphazardly, before nodding once.

"well i'm leaving." he turns to walk away, and you blanch.

"to go where?" you can't help but pry, looking at his back searchingly. you see him shrug, hands in his pockets. his tail remains unmoving with the weight of water, clothing sticking against his damp skin.

"who knows?" he grunts. he nods his head at you gruffly. "get inside."

"but…" you grimace, glancing at the dark sky. "what if you get sick?"

toji's brow raises, and he throws you a sarcastic glance over his shoulder. "i'm not made of fluff, kid."

you can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his brashness. you don't know what you're doing, but the idea of him prowling out in the pouring rain makes your stomach churn.

"come inside."

toji's head whips so fast you think he might break his neck, jade eyes going wide. one ear perks at your statement, oddly endearing, and you would've chuckled if his expression wasn't so aghast.

"the fuck you say?"

you swallow, suddenly nervous. seriously what the hell are you doing? "come inside," you repeat, your grip tightening around the umbrella.

"are you fucking insane?" toji's voice is sharp and accusatory, like you've just said the most offensive thing known to man. "why would you even—?"

"it's pouring." you say it blandly. "and i wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you were sitting out here like that."

"i'll live," he scoffs, and you bristle at the harshness of his tone. "i'm not a cushy little human."

"ha ha," you mock him sarcastically, voice cutting over the sounds of rain hitting your umbrella. "even animals get sick in the rain, don't they?"

he grumbles at that, eyes narrowed at your haughty smile, before he turns to face you completely. "why the hell do you care?"

"i—" you pause, not sure what to say. why do you care? "i just do."

toji rolls his eyes, shoulders raised high as he squints at you through the torrents of rain. a beat of silence passes as you stare back, unyielding, and he finally sighs heavily. "you have horrible survival instincts, you know that?"

you can't help but beam, laughing at his disgruntled expression as he falls into step with you and making sure you angle the umbrella to cover his head. "if you wanna leave later you're free to. just stay until the rain stops."

toji glances at you from the corner of his eye, contemplating. he wasn't joking—you really did have the worst judgement he's ever seen. he can't wrap his head around how you don't find it dangerous to invite a ragged animal into your home, especially one that can so easily tear your limbs off. instead, you have this dopey little smile on your face as you walk him into your space, closing the umbrella with a practiced snap and leading him inside.

well, toji isn't one to complain—he can't even remember the last time he's felt the warmth of the indoors, shielded against the bite of the outside world. and if he tries too hard to remember, he'll find that the last time did not have same sweetness that seems to be radiating off of your very person.

the inside of your apartment is small, but cozy. toji can't help but look around, noticing the details that have made this place your own. he inhales deeply, finding traces of the scent of food, of laundry detergent, of an unlit candle.

of you.

"uh…" your voice has gone slightly awkward, and toji's gaze falls on your sheepish expression. you look somewhat embarrassed, consciously looking around at the lived-in messiness of your space—not that toji really cares. "d-do you wanna wash up? i should have some extra clothes for you around here."

toji grimaces at the feeling of his ragged shirt clinging to his damp skin, but he tries not to make it too obvious how much he welcomes the idea. he can feel dirt and grime under his claws, and the thought of an actual bath makes his head spin with feral delight. "i guess so," he mutters, nonchalant. you seem to relax at his willingness, and you nod as you lead him to the bathroom. he shamelessly looks around, eyeing the pictures of you and other people in your life hanging from your walls. he can smell your half-eaten dinner, and his stomach rumbles.

you push open the bathroom door, and he briefly glimpses a pile of clothes on the ground, along with a few other things scattered here and there.

"fuck," you curse under your breath, heat crawling up your neck as you practically trip over yourself to get inside and tidy up. "j-just wait out here for a second please!"

toji snorts out a sardonic scoff of disbelief. if you really believed that he would care about something as trivial as a pile of laundry, you've got him completely wrong. but he guesses it is just slightly funny to see you so stressed over your dirty underwear because of him.

you rustle around inside and then emerge, breathlessly smiling as though nothing had occurred. toji watches you, expressionless, and you gesture to the bathroom. "okay now it should be all good. there's soap and stuff in there so use whatever you need. let me get you some clothes."

you immediately squeeze past him, trying to head for another room, and that's when toji fucks up. it's an accident, but he can't help his reaction. your elbow accidently nudges his abdomen, and he yelps with pain, the sound morphing into a guarded growl. you immediately recoil, eyes going wide in fear and concern—he internally curses.

"what?!" you gasp, gaze darting over his body. "what happened?"

he clicks his tongue. "nothing," he snarls, fist clenched around the fabric of his shirt. you eye him warily, and he can tell you don't believe him.

"what? are you hurt or something?"

"no!" he snaps back, teeth bared, and that's all the reaction you need before you're crossing your arms and glaring at him.

"listen, if you're hurt you need to get it cleaned and looked at." toji has half a mind to laugh in your face because you look so stupid trying to intimidate him when you're barely reaching his chin. he knows there is stock in what you say, but he is not doing this with you.

"like hell," he grunts, mirroring your posture and sneering down his nose. "i'll be fine."

"you squealed like a puppy when i barely touched you!"

he throws you an appalled scowl. "what the fuck did you call me?"

"i'm right and you know it!" you shoot back irritably. you seem to catch yourself, because you let out an exasperated sigh and your voice goes a little softer. "will you at least let me look at it?"

toji eyes you warily, feeling a strange mixture of trepidation and guilt. he knows he is right to be cautious, and he knows he should not be trusting you no matter how sweet you seem to act. but at the same time he hurts, and he does not want to go back outside even though he's used to it now—something about such free warmth is making the rational part of his brain fall apart.

he sighs heavily, grumbling under his breath and shooting you a withering glare, before he carefully tugs his shirt off. he can feel the wet fabric clinging to his opened skin, and he bites back a hiss of pain as he rips it away. when he's got it off, he just looks at you, accusatory—but you aren't looking at him.

instead you have a distinct look of abject horror on your face as your eyes roam over his body. though he is extremely well-built and quite honestly, very attractive, his skin is marred with scars. old and fresh, they litter his body like a barely thought out map, and you seem to experience a minor heart attack. your eyes zero in on the wounds that are causing him the most pain—a shallow gash cutting just over his stomach and what looks like a deep bloodied bite in his forearm.

"how?" your voice is shaky, and you finally meet his eyes again. "what happened to you?"

"don't worry about it," he mumbles, his voice a little less gruff as he studiously avoids looking at you. "i told you it's not that bad. it looks worse than it is."

you conveniently ignore him, taking a step closer to study his body. frustratingly enough he feels heat crawl up his neck because you're looking at him so intently, teeth digging into your bottom lip and chewing with nervous bites. finally, you tear your gaze away from his torso to look at his shirt, a deep frown creasing your features as you notice the contrasting darkness in certain areas of the fabric—bloodstains. "well you can't leave them open like this."

toji rolls his eyes harshly. "i've lived through worse."

you glare at him once more, and he finds that the expression looks quite good on you. "you need to clean them up, toji."

his name slides off your tongue like butter, and he can feel his canines scrape against his lips. a flicker of something akin to embarrassment trickles over his body, and he frowns distastefully. "no."

you click your tongue, exasperation rolling off of you in waves. "are you stupid? they'll get worse. i mean they're probably already infected and—"

"i don't know how to alright?!" he hisses, baring his teeth at you angrily. your expression turns bewildered, eyes darting between his quickly, before it melts into something frustratingly sympathetic.

"that's it?" your voice is like honey, and he can't decide whether it irritates him or not. "i can help you."

help. toji doesn't believe humans are capable of helping—only harming. but you're looking up at him so imploringly, eyes focused and heavy with the foolish need to bring him comfort. why, he does not understand. but he has never been able to understand why humans act the way they do.

he pins you with a wordless stare, and he knows you've realized he's relenting, because your lips quirk upward slightly. with a nod of your head, you motion him to follow you into the bathroom and take a seat on the edge of the tub. he watches you rummage through the cabinets, pulling out what looks like gauze, disinfectant, a small towel, and a sizeable mug, which you fill up with warm water. he's about to stand up to make space, but you kneel at his feet instead, setting everything at your side and pushing your hair away from your face.

it baffles him, how quick you are to yield to a species that is so obviously beneath you.

but you don't seem to be thinking any of that, gaze darting over his body as you try to figure out how to approach this. "i'll try and clean up all the blood first and then disinfect, okay?" your voice is barely a murmur, but his pointed ears catch the words all the same.

"you're the expert," he grunts, nonchalant. "do what you need to."

you smile wryly, dipping the towel into the water. "you said it, not me."

he snorts out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, but you don't comment on it. instead, you are focused on his body. you see numerous scars and welts, some fresh and some so old, and you are surprised at how sad they make you. it seems like the feeling is evident on your face, because toji watches your features with an unfamiliar intensity. you can't help but prod. "how'd you get these?"

your voice is gentle, as though you're scared a lack of fragility will shatter him. but toji has dealt with far worse than whatever sweetness you seem hell bent on showing him.

"betting on animal fights is a lot of fun for rich assholes." he doesn't look at you, but his lip curls with a deep rooted distaste—you think you feel it too.

so that's where toji comes from. the underground hybrid arenas that you've seen on the news many times before. a common place for predators who were normally so unwelcome in society to be put to good use. a controversial topic, because despite its popularity amongst the rich, everyone knew the conditions were not the greatest.

but you never thought they'd be this bad—how naive.

"i'm so sorry," you mumble forlornly, gently tracing the towel over the wounds. toji grunts noncommittally, but doesn't say much else. you're fine with that, and you clean him up with a tenderness that makes his stomach churn.

all he can focus on his how small your fingers looked wrapped around his claws, and he think you might be a lot braver than he is.

after you're done with your handiwork, you leave him to wash up in peace, and toji silently stares at your tiled wall as the hot water pours over his back. he does not know what he's doing, and what he's trying to get from this. sure, being fed everyday was a welcome addition, but he never planned on stepping this close to you—the thought makes him queasy. he does not enjoy the idea of being indebted to a human, because all they do is take and take and take some more.

and yet he finds himself slipping into the clothes you've given him, and when he looks in the mirror he's surprised at how much a simple bath could change him. toji wearily runs his tongue over his teeth, before it traces over the scar on his lips. a wave of disgust washes over him—he pushes it aside.

when he find you again, you're in what he assumes is a spare bedroom, tucking a fresh set of sheets into the corners of the mattress. he drops his old clothes in the corner, and then clears his throat to announce his presence. you turn to look over your shoulder and smile at his cleaner appearance. "you're done?"

he nods gruffly, watching as you stand up straight and take a few steps closer. "did the shower help?" you pin him with a curious stare, and he sighs resentfully.

"yeah," he grumbles, and he can feel your smug little smile saying nothing but i told you so. he has the strongest urge to flick your forehead.

"oh, i can take care of these."

he can't bite back his snarl when you pick up his clothes, and you freeze at the unusually territorial look on his face. he seems to pick up on the little fright he gave you, and his ears lose a bit of their tension as he sighs gruffly. "just…don't get rid of them."

you pause, glancing down at the rags in your hands. you stop to think that maybe these clothes are the one thing that toji has had since the start—important in a way that you won't understand. so you just nod with a reassuring smile. "i won't. i'll just wash them for you."

toji's shoulders relax, and his expression shifts, green eyes looking anywhere but your face. he nods once but doesn't say anything else, and you take it as your sign to continue.

"you can sleep here. i changed the sheets and put some pillows down too." you nod at the bed, pristine and untouched, and toji's bones suddenly ache with fatigue. how long has it been since he's seen a real bed?

he wonders what exactly your angle is. what do you get from helping someone like him? what sick urge do you satisfy by extending pity to a ragged animal? what do you achieve by passing on glittering smiles like they aren't priceless?

and what do you do to make yourself look so innocent through it all?

you're still blabbering about the bed. as much as he tries, toji cannot smell any malice on you—just pure disgustingly sweet kindness.

"how d'you know i'm not a serial killer or something?" he peers down at you with an arched brow, gaze sharp. "i could just eat you in your sleep."

you blink, before smiling sheepishly. "…do you plan to?"

there's a pause, and then for the first time, you see his scarred lips tug up to one side—a half-smile. a quiet chuckle bubbles forth and he crosses his arms. "nah, you're a little too sweet for my tastes."

you frown at him, watching as he dramatically wiggles his clawed fingers and flashes you his teeth, before rolling your eyes. "how flattering."

he snorts out another laugh, and you take the time to put the extra blankets on the old bed. "i've got more blankets in the closet if you need them, so help yourself." you busy your hands with propping the pillows against the headboard, and you see toji nod from your peripheral.

"i'll uh, be outta your hair soon," he mutters, suddenly feeling out of place.

"relax," you answer, grinning with a shake of your head. "i'm the one who asked you to stay so we could get your wounds all better. you're not giving me any trouble."

"right," he murmurs. there's an uncharacteristic gentleness in his tone, awkward and tense, but you recognize it to be a semi form of gratitude. toji glances at your easy going grin, and his skin prickles uncomfortably—he's not sure how to react to such blatant warmth.

"i'm in the next room over so if you need anything, just knock. i'm a pretty light sleeper." you flash him a thumbs up and turn on your heel, heading to your own room. toji waits until he hears the click of your door before taking a cautious step forward. the clothes you've given him are somewhat tight on his figure, and they faintly smell of some other man, which makes his nose wrinkle with distaste.

though he guesses he should try to bite his tongue and be a little grateful—they're much more comfortable than the rags he'd been in for all those months. toji clambers into the bed, claws digging into the unfamilar softness of sheets, and a heavy wave of fatigue washes over him.

he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, your stupidly sweet smile burning behind his eyelids.

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @jazzy00001 @mahoubitch @deedeeznoots @ghost-buddies @teddybeartoji @onimira @polarbvnny @starmapz @thikcems @nonamebbsblog @echodead @pennameyoruichiii @venussdovess @emi311 @meow-satoru

lmk if you would like to be added/removed <33

[wileys-russo]

Hiii! I have an idea for an Alexia x R soft fic.

So you know how Barça shared ig stories of Alexia being at the bona diada event, then she jumped into training right after (captain duties, we know).

Inspired by that, Alexia falls asleep in r’s arms right after lunch break and the team snaps a photo of them cuddled up

heavy eyelids II a.putellas

"you do know that looking at your phone or the door every five seconds does not make her appear any faster?" your eyes moved to meet frido's teasing gaze as you pulled a face and rolled your eyes.

"i wasn't! i know she is busy, and she will be here later." you huffed, tucking your phone away in your locker and bending down to lace up your shoes.

"again! you are doing it again!" frido laughed a moment later, catching your eyes once more lingering toward the changing room doors hoping your girlfriend would be walking through them everytime a new body appeared.

"no! i was..." you trailed off with a slight frown, struggling to think of a suitable answer. "looking for alexia." ingrid chimed in as you sent her a fierce scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.

"shut up." you grumbled, sick of their teasing and standing to head out to the field.

"oh amiga we do not train for another...ten minutes. do you not want to spend them staring at the door trying to make alexia appear with your magic laser eyes?" patri's arm fell over your shoulder as she gave you a cheesy grin and laughter rang out among your teammates.

"pew pew pew!" pina poked your cheek, pointing at your eyes and ducking your fist that swung at her with a wolfish smile. "like you two can talk. amor idiotas enfermos!" you muttered, a beat of silence passing before you raced out of the room with both girls hot on your heels.

"bon dia!" you managed to get out with a smile toward the iphone camera filming the walks in before pina landed on your back, sending you stumbling forward and nearly losing your footing.

you struggled to throw her off, grins painted on both your faces as her arm wrapped around your neck and eventually with a puppy dog look sent to patri she called her girlfriend over and off you.

you moved to join in for stretches, having already popped in to see the physios to have your hamstring taped up and looked at, a hard tackle yesterday giving you a little discomfort and promising your girlfriend you'd not ignore it.

your girlfriend whom you'd briefly dusted with a few light good morning kisses before she'd all but rolled out of bed and into the shower, her morning schedule much more jam packed than yours.

"ale. mi amor that is your second alarm!" you warned quietly with a smile of amusement, kissing her bare shoulder as she exhaled tiredly into the pillow her face was pressed against.

"i told you to go to bed when i did." you chuckled, the blonde having insisted she'd join you shortly but by the time she did you were dead asleep, leaving her with only a few short hours of decent rest.

"despierta guapa." you cooed, another tired exhale and you were scooting over to give her enough room to roll onto her back, hazel eyes blinking tiredly as she reached up to rub them.

a few sleepy kisses and she was pushing up and out of the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom as you watched her go, eyes lingering over the assortment of intricate inkings scattering her toned bare back.

despite the fact you could have slept another couple of hours and alexia's insistence you do so, she'd stepped out of the shower to the smell of coffee and breakfast and smiled, chuckling to herself at the thought of you ever actually listening to her.

a driver already downstairs to collect her, hair and makeup was up first which you know despite pretending to hate alexia secretly quite enjoyed, you'd prepped her breakfast and caffeine to go.

"qué haría yo sin ti?" alexia sighed, strong hands grabbing your hips and pulling your body into hers. "sleep in and starve." you teased, leaning up to press your lips against hers, mumbling about how she'd be late and wrenching yourself away.

then with one more lingeringly soft kiss, the front door was closing with a click and the apartment you shared was just a little bit quieter.

"oye, tonta!" you zoned back into reality as fingers clicked in your face, pushing away mapi's hand and resuming your stretches.

"and now she is trying to imagine alexia is here, so sad." mapi tutted with a sarcastic sigh, yelping as you reached over to pinch her calf and darting to hide behind her own girlfriend.

"she might not need to imagine." ellie piped up next, tapping your shoulder as your head whipped around to where her finger pointed, perking up and not even caring how it looked as you scrambled to your feet.

you heard the jeering and teasing behind you but paid it no mind, using all of your restraint not to sprint across the field as your girlfriend hurried into training, a polite smile and greeting flashed at the media team.

"hola." alexia smiled, and despite how well she often hid it you could see the exhaustion in her eyes as she did so, the two of you having clear boundaries around your displays of affection in professional settings.

so you settled for the brief but sincere hug the two of you shared, a subtle kiss to your shoulder and a quiet i missed you in your ear.

"qué?" alexia frowned at the amused look you were giving her, the pair of you moving back toward the group as the rest of the coaching staff filed out to the field to start training.

"muy bonita." your thumb traced her jaw, her makeup from the event earlier still clear and evident on her face. "no time to take it off." alexia grumbled and your smiled only widened, knowing that secretly your girlfriend wasn't as upset about this as she might seem.

regardless she played her part, pushing and smacking at both vicky and jana whose teasings continued throughout the session.

mocking cries of 'salve la reina' echoing about the field before your girlfriend silenced them with skill, a rainbow flick over vickys head and into the goal having her jaw dropped and the moment the whistle blew she was by alexia's side begging her to show her how.

you watched with a fond smile as the blonde dragged the younger girl in for lunch in a headlock, a kick to the back of your knees having you stumbling and then sprinting off after mapi.

"oh look there is alexia entering the room. there is alexia getting her lunch. there is alexia-" you swallowed your mouthful of food and tried not to choke as fridos hands smooshed your cheeks, forcing your head to follow your girlfriends every move.

"déjame en paz!" you huffed, yanking her hands off and shrugging her away as she moved to slide into the seat across from you with a wink.

"you are so annoying on mondays." you grunted, the blonde pulling a face and falling into conversation with the rest of the table.

"oh and look here is alexia sitting down!" she paused speaking with esme to announce, your girfriend giving her a strange look as she settled beside you, knee knocking into yours in a silent hello.

"ignore her." you grumbled, frido sending you both a happy smile and turning away again. "pareces cansado amor." your face scrunched a little in concern, hand brushing hers beneath the table.

"estoy bien." alexia murmured, lips quickly pressing against your cheek reassuringly before ingrid called her name and tugged her into conversation.

however throughout lunch you noticed her contributions became less and less, sentences turned to singular words which turned to only hums of agreement and to show she was even listening which truly you weren't sure she was.

when you'd both finished eating you hurried to grab her tray and yours, dismissing her protests as she got up and followed after you none the less.

there was still a half hour left of your break but you could see the exhaustion still clear in her eyes as you tugged on her shirt and nodded for her to follow after you.

"dónde?" the blonde frowned as she fell into step with you none the less, the chatter of the lunch room fading behind you and your hand found its way into hers.

"cariño. i thought we said-" you glanced toward her as you tugged her into the media room where everyone was due to spill into for the afternoon. "oh no! we are not here for that, putellas." you laughed, recognizing the way her eyes raked over your body.

"qué hacemos aquí?" your girlfriend asked and you didn't miss the way her other hand grazed your hip causing you to chuckle. "you are going to take a nap." you smiled, a look of disgust painted on your girlfriends face as you took a seat and patted the chair beside you.

"a nap? i am not a child!" she scoffed as you wordlessly patted the seat beside you. "vale. then just come sit with me, look at social media, rest." you shrugged, the blonde looking like she was going to continue to argue but with a quirk of your eyebrow she relented.

"gruñón." you teased, poking her cheek as her eyes rolled but her body leaned into yours none the less, her focus down on her phone. you jumped a little in shock as not a minute later it fell into your lap and you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself laughing.

"idiota." you smiled, carefully adjusting your position so the taller girls head slumped to your shoulder, chest rising and falling as you resumed the doom scrolling of your own phone.

but the peace didn't last long as you heard the chatter and giggles which meant the two of you wouldn't be alone for much longer, one of your arms wedged behind alexia as she slept on, her own arms crossed and a stoic look on her face even as she rested.

something you'd teased her for endlessly and it appeared you wouldn't be the only one as the first group of girls burst into the room, silenced by the murderous glare you shot their way, giggles dying and voices hushed as they hurried up to the back of the room.

"vicky." you warned quietly as the girl hung behind her friends, phone in hand and a slight smile on her face.

"no." you shook your head as her smile grew, and you sighed as she snapped a few photos and raced off after the others. but she wasn't alone as several of the girls did the same, none quite loud enough to wake your girlfriend but all capturing the moment of her asleep half on top of you before hurrying to their seats.

but of course, there was one person who would never be one to let her rest, intentional or not.

"oye capitana, despertar sunshine!" mapi cooed bursting into the room as alexia shot up as if someone had poured cold water all over her and ingrid winced, smacking her girlfriend and shoving her into a seat.

"ow! what?" mapi grumbled as ingrid told her off quietly, shaking her head as the defender huffed and sulked in her chair. "i fell asleep? you should have woken me." alexia sighed, sending you a tired glare as she stretched her neck.

"you needed the sleep cari, it was only a little while." you promised, squeezing her knee as the older girl sighed but nodded, settling back into her chair as the lights were dimmed and pere entered, starting to set up the presentation for you all to watch.

"vicky!" you jolted again in surprise as alexia's head whipped around, phone in hand and eyes narrowing into a glare at the younger girl sat at the back of the room whose smile dropped and she paled.

"delete that story, ahora mismo. or you can run laps until you drop!"

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 03

Eyeless Jack x Female Reader - Mirror/Overstimulation

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, mirror sex, oral, desperation, pleasing, body positivity, controlled orgasm, embarrassment, body image issues, fluffy smut

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.8k

Jack found it so irritating how you pleaded with him to turn the lights off every time he slept with you.

At first, he thought it was an insult, a secret disgust you had for him that you were too scared to admit. But, that couldn’t be right.

You were kissy and loving all other times, unafraid to express your desire for the demon or hold back from complimenting everything he did. It just didn’t make sense why when he began to make love to you, suddenly all of that confidence and fluffiness washed away. Hiding your face in the pillows, wrapping your arms over your tummy, or even lightly panicking when he cooed you to get on top.

Until he thought about it, really thought about it.

It took time, but he began to catch the way you tugged your leggings a little higher on your stomach or adjusted your shirt so it was baggier in the front. He didn’t miss how you preferred your clothes a little baggier, opting for his instead. You sucked in when he held you, stood up straighter when he talked to you. It took time, but slowly all the pieces were connecting, all of the little tale-tell signs that you so meticulously hid.

To anyone else, it would seem normal. Maybe you just liked bigger clothes, or you just liked to wear his instead.

But Jack knew. And he wasn’t going to let you dig yourself deeper.

“Hi, beautiful.”

Jack stepped behind you, leaning over to peck a kiss atop your head. You smiled up at him, stalling your work at the kitchen counter to hike up onto your tiptoes and kiss his lips. His claws reached around your waist, pulling you back against him.

“Hi.”

“I have a surprise for you… See you later tonight…?”

He didn’t miss the little embarrassed excitement that tinted on your cheeks, your small smile nodding to him as you resumed whatever food you were making. The demon left you with another kiss, stepping away with a grin.

You wouldn’t know, but he was setting up your ‘surprise’ in your room. He took the full-length mirror from your closet, hooked it off of the hinges, and placed it on the wall opposite your bed. He made sure it was angled right, sitting on the edge of the bed to ensure you would get a good view.

You needed this more than he did, but that didn’t make him any less excited.

Night eventually fell, the quiet stir of your house looming as you stepped out of the shower down the hall. Jack was already perched at your doorframe, one shoulder hunched on the plaster as you stepped from the steaming bathroom, towel tucked neatly around your frame.

Fresh from the shower, you smelled so delicious. Little fruity savory scents wafted around you as Jack breathed deep, chills running up his back. He couldn’t wait.

He didn’t miss the little flush in your cheeks or the way you smiled sweetly when he reached a hand out, your small one clasping right in his palm. He also didn’t miss how you tugged the towel up a little higher to cover your underarms, glancing down to give yourself a once-over before following him. He was more than tired of your overthinking brain.

You gasped lightly when you stepped into your warm bedroom, candles and tiny tea lights lit up across any surface the demon could place them. You looked around in awe, eyes bright and twinkling from the fire glow, Jack’s claw tugging you further inside. Now you wouldn’t be able to turn the lights off…

“Jack… What is this for…?” You smiled, pushing your wet hair back from your face as Jack closed the door. Glancing to your bed, you noticed the water bottle and tiny assortment of Advil, all things that you typically needed after a night with the demon.

But, you also didn’t miss the mirror from your closet repositioned in front of your bed, glancing at your reflection sourly.

“Why did you move my mirror?”

“Suprise…” Jack cooed, stepping in to press behind you, his claws wrapping around to the front of your stomach. It had always impressed you just how much taller the demon was compared to you, but looking at it now, he seemed huge.

You stood in front of the glass, staring at Jack’s reflection with knitted brows, his lips coming down to kiss behind your ear. You shivered, his breath so warm against your damp skin, leaning back into his touch.

“What do you mean, surprise?”

The demon chuckled, hooking his fingers into the towel and slowly opening it, your eyes flashing down to yourself as you watched nervously.

“Wait…” You groaned.

Your legs instinctively clenched when your bare body showed itself, large claws tugging the towel from your sides and tossing it somewhere unknown. The warm candleglow bounced off your skin, deep oranges and yellows showing every freckle and indent as Jack found his way back to your neck.

You cringed, staring only at Jack’s face pressed close to yours instead of looking at yourself, disgust slowly creeping in and ruining your mood. He felt the way you tensed against him, a deep groan against your neck as he lifted off.

“Can we not with the mirror?” You mumbled, keeping your eyes solely focused on him instead of where he wanted you to look, at your beautiful body. He shook his head, pulling you back until you sat on the edge of your bed, Jack circling to your front. “This is exactly why we need it, I think.”

You’re confused, crossing one leg over the other as Jack kneels himself in front of you, his large frame putting him at eye level with your chest. You immediately edge back, shaking your head slowly.

“I know what this is…”

Jack is wrapping his claws around your ankles before you can get any further, pulling your body to the edge again and making you sit up straight. He didn’t care as you whined your unwillingness for his idea, pushing himself between your knees and pulling your claves to lock onto his sides.

One claw wraps around your jaw, tugging your face down to face him directly as you huff, silently pleading with him. He pressed his lips softly against yours, giving you a moment to recuperate before he sat back again.

“You, my pet, are the most intoxicatingly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I find it insulting you think something I find attractive is ugly.” His words are overlapped with kisses down your neck, his claws resting eagerly on your hips as he pecks downwards, breathing deep into your neck.

Your arousal floods his senses, the silent excitement he can almost taste as he kisses your chest so sweet and hungry. Your breathing catches as he palms your tit, massaging the mound slowly until you’re arching your back into his touch.

“Every time I see you, I can barely hold myself back from kissing every square inch of your skin.” His lips dip lower, kissing between your tits and down to the top of your stomach. A quiet whine slips through when he finally makes it to the softness of your tummy, kissing across your warm skin and nipping gently with his teeth. Oh, how he would love to have just a bite, just a taste of your sweetness underneath.

You were shuddering the lower he got, little wet spots from his lips trailing to the tops of your thighs, your eyes never leaving him for a second.

He loves your pliability when you lean back on your hands, his claws hooking under your knees to push your thighs open further, the sweet scent of your arousal making him lightheaded. Your heavy eyes watched as he nipped the inside of your legs, kissing the soft skin as close as he could get to your pretty cunt before you were gasping.

He leaned back, much to your disappointment, but held your gaze, the deep sockets boring into you. You were nervous, body twitchy and shifting awkwardly to avoid glancing up to the mirror.

Sleeping with the demon was heavenly, his body and words coiling you up just right. But, you could never get over the roadblock that was your appearance.

Jack made it so evidently clear how pretty you were, complimenting you every chance he got and going the extra mile to make you feel special. That didn’t stop you from cringing at the way your stomach rolled when you moved, or how your legs took up so much space when you sat down. There was no telling how a man so lean and strong found someone like you so addicting.

He was about to show you, though.

“I want you to look at yourself.” You groaned, rolling your eyes at him, but the look on his face was serious.

Huffing, you looked up into the mirror across from you, the warm-toned room lighting your reflection and showing you leaned back on the edge of the bed and Jack’s large frame kneeled neatly between your spread legs.

Quickly, you glanced back down, Jack’s face still one of seriousness at the gentle scowl you held.

He leaned in slowly, pushing his face back between the plushness of your thighs and pushing your knees further apart. You let your lips part, upper body leaning back further in preparation for him.

Until he stopped. Just mere inches from your whiny cunt, his hot breath making your body run with chills. You waited, body heavy and eager, but slowly tensing with confusion when he didn’t press any further than that.

“Uh, Jack?”

He tilted his head up, eyelids low on his empty sockets as he peered into yours.

“I said I want you to look at yourself. Look away, and I’ll stop.” He grinned coyly, jagged teeth gleaming in the candlelight as he leaned in again, this time kissing against the lips of your expectant cunt.

Your jaw still hung loose as you nervously sat up a little more, eyes tense to glance up at yourself as you felt a thick, warm tongue glide smoothly between the wetness of your folds. Your eyes finally met your reflection, giving one quick glance down to see that Jack was peering up at your face, watching carefully.

You huffed, staring back at yourself and gasping as your cheeks grew a darker shade of pink, freckles and dimples bright on your face. You could barely hold yourself from watching his back muscles flex and contort as he holds your legs, a quiet grumble making you refocus.

“Hnn…” Jack let his lips pucker against your puffy folds, tongue gliding through the slickness and rounding at your clit. The long muscle lapped at the taste of your cunt, pulling deep groans and whines from the both of you.

Even though working you, Jack watched on, carefully holding your gaze to make sure you never looked away from your beautiful face. You were jittery, muscles tensing and legs nearly shaking as you tried so hard to obey him. It all just became a little too much when he finally pushed the thickness of his tongue past your entrance.

“Oh, hah- Fuck-” Your eyes flickered back and forth, trying so hard to hold your own gaze but getting caught in the view of his tongue slowly pushing into you. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth, fingers grabbing the sheets a little tighter as Jack huffed.

You were ready for that sweet feeling of fullness, of his long tongue craning inside and rubbing all the right places. But, when he slowly began to retract the muscle, pulling his head back from the center of your legs, you nearly cried.

“Jack, please-” He just watched on, staring at you with disinterest.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror.”

You took the hint, forcing your glance back to your flushed face, heavy eyes and droplets of water from your shower gleaming in the candlelight. Jack resumed, pushing his face back quickly and letting his tongue slick back into your excited entrance again.

But, when you felt another tongue slip from his lips, you gasped, shoulders tensing as you willed yourself not to look down.

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Jack could reach. You hissed, back arching into the feeling as your hands fisted the sheets.

It was so embarrassing to see your face involuntarily strain and tense at every heavenly feeling, your eyes flutter or lips part with the loud noises of Jack lapping away at your pussy. And you couldn’t even watch him do it.

Your body was wrecked with pleasure, Jack using all of his devices to pull desperate moans and cries from your lips as he pushed his tongue deeper, the other flicking against your whiny clit.

“Look how good you look falling apart, little thing…” He grumbles against your wetness, muscle curling and soaking up all of your arousal. Your hips angle, trying so desperately to ride on his hungry tongue.

Your face is wrecked, body alike as you let your hands leave the bedsheets and curl around his head, fisting your fingers into his hair. The demon growls, letting his third tongue push through his lips and rummage against you, poking and pushing to try and fit inside your entrance.

“Jack- Jack- Ahn- Yea-” You pull against his hair, making sure you keep your eyes solely on your reflection, the gradual build of your orgasm tingling in your gut. Jack can taste it, can smell it as he finally gets a second tongue past that tight ring of muscle.

You cry out, eyes shutting only for a second, but quickly flicking back open. You would rather die than let Jack see you weren’t looking at yourself, wanting nothing more than to keep his tongues at the pace they were at. You’d look at yourself the rest of your life if it meant you felt like this.

“P-please ah- oh-” You squirm.

The demon is practically fucking you open with the warm muscles, the stretch and push against your walls so delicious and overwhelming, but all you can do is claw for more.

“Tell me how… hah- How beautiful you are…” He slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later, but you comply. You’re embarrassed, desperate, and desire clinging to your every word.

“I’m… I’m beautiful…hnn-”

“Pretty…”

“I’m pretty-”

“Perfect…”

“Fuck… I- ah- I’m perfect…”

Your face is flushed with desperation, watching your every muscle contort until you finally feel like you can look at yourself without cringing, mind too busy trying to push your orgasm out.

Finally satisfied, Jack lets go of your thighs, the limbs instantly clinging around the side of his head and squeezing. He groans, pushing your body back flat against your bed and completely ravaging your cunt.

You finally get the chance to look down, his own face flushed and disheveled as his tongues curl and tug your orgasm through, body convulsing and writhing under him.

“Jack-!” You’re cumming, hard, eyes rolling back into your eyelids as you grip his hair tight, the sweet relief of waves of pleasure gripping your every movement. Your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. He doesn’t let up though, drinking up all your cunt spills on his tongues, deep groans and heaves of breath flooding your senses.

When you finally begin to hiss, sensitivity gripping, he tugs his tongues out, letting your body relax.

His mouth is soaked, a claw coming to wipe away the saliva and arousal from his chin as he pulls you up. Kisses are quickly littered across your skin, hands massaging deeply across your lower back.

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…” He whispers, pushing up to kiss across your face, your flushed skin hot under his lips. You’re still embarrassed, still reluctant to look up at yourself in the mirror, but you do it anyway.

Your body is disheveled, cunt still flashing with arousal, but the view in the mirror is a lot more tolerable, a lot more pretty than you remember it being.

Jack smiles as you watch yourself, tugging you back closer as he retakes his position, pushing your legs open.

It doesn’t take him coaxing for you to look at yourself when his tongues slide between your dripping cunt again, a wilted moan as he pushes back in again.

If he could love you and your body so much, maybe you could learn to, too.

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[missfrustration]

to teach a captain - part 1 (luffy x reader 18+ fanfic)

summary: Luffy walks in on you touching yourself, and things quickly get out of hand.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

rating: 18+ explicit, minors do not interact!!

tags: pwp, nsfw, smut, sexual content, masturbation, cluelessness, luffy is a curious guy, reader is a member of the straw hat crew, post-time skip, second-hand embarrassment, no spoilers, no use of y/n

A/n: My first multi-part fic. I'm so glad people enjoyed it on ao3, so I'm posting it here! Enjoy!

words: 2.1k

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

Something gnawed at you all day today. It wasn’t until you were munching on the assorted fruit that Sanji prepared for the girls after breakfast that you realized the feeling. You watched your captain sit comfortably on the head of the Sunny, staring out into the open blue, when the very thought snapped into your mind. 

You haven’t touched yourself in a while, and it was well due for a session. 

Typically, you don’t pleasure yourself outside of your bath time due to the lack of privacy on the ship, but showers have been rushed since Sunny's recent island escapade that you havent had the time. Since then, the crew regained their idle hours, and man, the level of horniness told you things needed to happen now. 

You set your bowl of fruits beside the deck railing and quickly dart to the girls’ room. Typically, you would never imagine doing the deed here, but Nami and Robin were busy on the ship and typically would stay above deck all day. None of the boys dare go in the girls’ room for fear of Nami’s wrath, so you don’t need to worry about someone barging in.

You reach your dresser tucked in the corner of the girls’ room and search under all the mess of clothes. At the very bottom, you pull out a small purple dildo and some lube and plop down on your bed. You didn’t bother shutting the door all the way; from the way you were feeling, you knew it wouldn’t take long.

You spared yourself from any niceties to get yourself in the mood. You peel off your pants and underwear and leave your top on, instantly wrinkling the smooth sheets of the mattress. 

When the silicone head tapped your clit, you already felt sparks. You knew you needed relief. Now.

The silicone base was lubricated in seconds, and you revel in the way your pussy quickly molded to the length of your little helper. It didn’t take long to start pumping it in and out of you. 

You know your arousal wouldn’t let you last long, but showing your pleasure would make you cum faster. You threw one arm over your eyes and arched your head back. Your legs splayed on your sheets that shaped a lazy outline around your body. Your toes clutch at the rivets the sheets have made, you clench your fingers around your toy in the same way your palm clenches your breast, kneading and pumping and thrusting in all the right ways.

“Fuck yes.” You moan out, your hands grab at anything around you, from the loose strands of your hair to the loose shirt to the tangled sheets, before covering your face again. You arch into the mattress, opening up your legs more as you pound into you. 

You breathlessly pant, feeling your climax already brush up. 

Yes.

In and out, you pushed your toy, swallowing it down so well over and over until, finally, that tight coil started to stutter. God, you need it so badly now, those sloppy pumps to reach you there until you can no longer think about anything except your hand clawing right over your eyes, ready to muffle your screams over and over again. You’re so close now, so desperate to reach the line that your hips buck into your hand, biting your lip hard to impress into the skin forever, your light moans and whimpers are barely controllable as you start to climb.

Yes…

You wonder how much you’ll need to muffle your orgasm when that toy dick plunges into you just right, practically making you whimper.

You gasp when you feel it coming closer and closer and…

“Yes!”

“You left your fruit thingys.”

A voice from the doorway, so joyful that you know who said it before you looked up in horror. Luffy smiles, which quickly dissolves into confusion when he sees your face.

You immediately jump up and yelp, grabbing the blanket from your bed to cover your bare bottom, but it was too late; you know Luffy see everything in your legs and the things in between. 

“Hey, what’s that you’re doing?” Luffy asks, turning his head at you.

“Luffy?! What the fuck, dude, go away!” You scream at him.

“Huh? What did I do?”

“Luffy, holy shit, I’m not doing this with you—fucking leave!” You panic, grab the nearest thing, and throw it in Luffy’s vicinity.

It was your bottle of lube, which cracked open on impact and landed against the wall with a grimy splat!

He stepped back as a frown pillaged his face.

“Whatever, I’ll eat them myself!” He yells, darting down the hall. The sounds of fruit scarfing quickly start before fading away.

Your hand, once stuttered in the air from throwing your projectile, now slumps onto the sheets. Your entire body follows, until your head locks into the nearest pillow and you scream out all the embarassment trapped in the air. Your muffled screams last longer than you would’ve liked.

If Blackbeard himself walked up to you right now with a rhinestone encrusted pistol loaded to the brim and aimed at your forehead, you would’ve let him pull the trigger.

——

It wasn’t until a few hours later that the ship reached the next charted island.

“We’re here!” Nami’s voice rings through the ship, causing everyone to gather on the front deck.

“Alright, welcome to Tashini, home of entertainment! We are going to stock up here before heading out tomorrow night.”

“Suuper! I need to stock up Sunny on some more cola.” Frankly sings, grabbing a backpack about the size of his fist. It looks microscopic compared to his large back. 

“You said there were things worth looking at, right, Nami?” Zoro asks. 

“Yes! Tashini is known for its numerous entertainment districts and has killer drinks that pair best with the local food.” Nami winks, knowing how Zoro is.

“Hey, sounds good to me,” Zoro says, gathering his swords on his sheath.

Nami calls out your name. 

“You ready to go shopping?” She asks.

You freeze a little, looking around the ship for something to say. From what happened earlier, you feel like going out today would stress you out more. On top of that, the girls would notice something wrong and want to know all the details. On a whim, you clutch your stomach.

“Oh, ah, I’m not feeling good today. Mind if I stay back and look over the ship?” You stay, patting your skin down slightly. Nami tilts her head at you with slight surprise.

“Aw, really? That’s too bad,” Nami says, “Sure thing, we can shop another time.”

“I hope you don’t mind if Nami and I go alone.” Robin giggles.

“Not at all. You have fun without me, and I can join you girls next time. Keep your eyes peeled for anything I would like.” You smile, and the girls both agree.

That went better than planned, you think. Maybe this can help me relax from what happened a few hours ago.

You hear footsteps behind you until they suddenly stop a foot next to you.

“I feel sick, too!” Luffy said. “I need to stay on the ship.”

You froze, realizing the voice of your captain was right behind you, making you jump in surprise. It seems you’re not the only one to do that.

In fact, there have been a few times when the crew reacts in such surprise to Luffy, either widening their eyes or dropping their jaws in awe. In every case up to now, nothing could stop him from head-first cartwheeling to the newest island.

Sanji wacks him on the head.

“Huh?! There’s no way you are, Luffy; you were perfectly fine a minute ago! Jeez, you’ve been hanging out with Usopp too much.” Sanji groans. 

“Yeah!” Usopp says, “He’s been hanging out with me too—hey, wait a minute! What do you mean by that?!” Ussop practically steams out of his ears, being so bewildered about the most obvious thing. You all know Usopp loves to act sick anytime he detects a whiff of danger.

This causes the boys to argue about Usopp’s previous severe “diseases” that he’s managed to catch every time he senses danger. Still, you can’t forget the lingering gaze Luffy gives you in between, which makes you turn away in embarrassment. The last time he saw you was… then.

Sanji pipes up.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to try that world-famous fried squid that the town’s known for. You were yapping about it all day yesterday!” He says.

Luffy perks up, seeming to regain his previous exigency. “Oh, yeah. Never mind, let’s go!” Luffy says, now confidently strutting off the deck with no symptoms, ultimately confusing the whole crew. 

Sanji shrugs in defeat and sighs. “I’m not even going to ask,” he mutters. He joins the rest, getting off the Sunny.

“Do you need me to stay here and look at you?” Chopper asks you. He looks up at you with concerned eyes that melt your heart. You feel a tinge of guilt for lying and making him worry.

“Oh, it’s no problem, Chopper. I know you wanted to get more supplies for the sick deck. Just work your magic when you come back, okay?” You know how much he was looking forward to this. You definitely didn’t want to keep him behind.

“Alright, if you insist.” Chopper gleams, shaking from excitement. “Let’s go, guys!”

“Let’s meet at dusk, everybody. That’ll give each of us a few hours before we need to leave,” Nami calls, earning a hearty agreement in unison. 

You watch them slowly trek into the horizon, heading out in individual directions to start their journies. Your eyes lingered on Luffy, the outline of his shadow with hands looped behind his head and his chest held high. It looked like he didn’t have a care in the world until you lost his figure to the island's horizon.

—

You take in the quiet atmosphere of the Sunny in the absence of the rest of the crew. It was like night and day, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Total peace and quiet is a yearning you have now and then, especially after living with a bustling crew daily. 

About an hour after everyone left, you take this time to do some chores you’ve put on the back burner. After tidying up your space, you start a steady line of folding the girls' laundry. Even with Nami’s small clothes, the amount of baby tees and bikinis she has en masse is enough to fill up all of the lockers if they’re not compressedly folded. You’ve had to learn that from experience more than a few times.

If your little interaction with Luffy hadn’t happened earlier, you would’ve taken this time to beat off now. Unfortunately, the guilt and embarrassment from the whole situation turned you off. You vow to never again touch yourself outside of your regular scheduled shower and bath times. 

You sigh. What could you even say about this morning? Luffy is your captain, the one who asked you to join as his nakama in the first place, someone you’ve trusted with your life along with the other crewmates, and it wasn’t exactly ideal to have him walk in on you booty butt-naked. God, you could dissolve into the earth’s core from all the embarrassment! 

It was not your proudest moment, but knowing Luffy, there’s not much left to do except hope he’ll forget it and you two can put it behind you in no time. Knowing him, it’s the most likely scenario.

After the last few articles, you stretch your legs and walk up to the deck to ensure everything’s okay. You doubt anybody would raid the fearsome Strawhat ship, but you’ve been surprised quite a few times since joining the crew. 

You walk to the door, but it suddenly bursts open before you can reach the handle. The lightning-fast momentum of it almost wacks you in the face, causing you to scream and jump out of your skin. 

“Hey, I found you!” It was the voice of the man who swung that poor door open. 

The one you wanted to avoid this whole time.

“Luffy?!” You yell, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out with the others on Tashini?”

“I snuck back here when Sanji and Ussop weren’t looking,” Luffy smiled. “I wanted to talk to you.”

-------

Read Part 2 here!

ao3 | tiktok | kofi | masterlist

[aouiaa]

hii can you please do an abby x reader where Manny throws a party at the WLF stadium and abby and her gf go and her gf gets quite drunk and when she gets drunk she gets clingy and it’s just cute and fluffy and stuff.

if not don’t stress 💐💐

❝ HOW ABOUT THAT OFFER ? ❞ — ABBY ANDERSON

warnings and disclaimers, dealer!abby, alcohol consumption, usage of pet names (babe, pretty), descriptions of types of drunks, abby being so mm (need her).

TAPE THE MOUTH SHUT, i couldn’t resist the chance to scooch in the amazing dealer trope. i meannn, who doesn’t love her? I DO, MUAHAHA. keep sending requests! i love getting requests, or asks in general. just read my rules AND don’t be weird. OKAYYAYAABYEYEE

A firm knock on the wooden, painted door interrupts the participants inside. the music, once a mere background noise, now assaults your ears as the door opens and manny stands there, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. after greeting abby with dab, the two of you step into the room, the space seems to shrink as groups of people mill about, mingling together. the thick air, laden with the combined scents of sweat and weed, assaults your senses.

The tension in the air calls for some liquid courage, barely letting abby mingle with her own crowd, you practically drag her towards the makeshift alcohol table, where you promptly pour a random assortment of shitty, cheap liquor into a solocup. abby, who’s barely registering how she even got it there, notices your witch’s concoction, and laughs, leaning close enough so you can hear her over the music. "you sure you wanna drink that?" she taunts playfully.

In response, you scoff, rolling your eyes as you defiantly pour the chaser into the cup. "i can handle my liquor just fine, abby." you assure her, unamused. she immediately leans back, putting her hands up in a playful gesture of surrender "alright, alright," she laughs, "just saying ‘cause last time..." her voice trails off into laughter as you let out a exasperated sigh.

As the night wore on, so did the consumption, making the atmosphere becomes more carefree. it was cup after cup as you soon feel that familiar warm, fuzzy feeling that signals your transition to “that type of drunk.”

Everyone knows there are distinct of drunken personas: the aggressive, rowdy, and affectionate. as for you, the affection is on full display as you shower the apples of the blonde’s cheeks with kisses, dispensing them like a sprinkler sprinkling a flowerbed.

Abby, taking on the role of the caregiver for the evening sticks by your side at arms length. seated on a couch in the far corner of the main room, you purchase a spot on her lap, head resting on her shoulder with your arm flung around her neck while your other hand gently holds a half-empty cup of tonight’s libations. one of her lean, strong arms is wrapped around your waist, acting as your anchor.

Occasionally, between conversations with manny, she checks on you. this time is no exception, a strong tingling feeling resonates down your body from the touch of her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "lemme know when you're ready to head out, alright, pretty?" pressing a kiss to your cheek which makes you whinge, burying your face into the crook of her neck, flushed.

The thought of escaping this crowded scene and snuggling into the warmth of your fluffy pajamas, ensconced in the embrace of your plush bed, was tempting. but a guilty pleasure at best. you knew that abby's presence was strictly for business, parties merely transactions for her trade.

Over the course of the past three hours, a steady flow of people approached the two of you, each one slipping her money before muttering a brief ‘thanks’ and disappearing into the masses.

When money talked, you wouldn’t dare silent it.

It’s why you haven’t confirmed your submission, maybe the booze was talking, but all you really wanted to do was be coddled by your gentle giant. it’s not anything different than what it was three minutes ago. from afar, someone shouted her name, summoning her services. abby acknowledged the call, quickly murmuring, "i’l be back." before waving manny over to keep an eye on you.

It should have taken no more than a minute, perhaps a minute and a half if the asshole was particularly awkward. but that additional thirty seconds felt like an eternity of separation from her. you shook your head, pressing your body against hers as if your proximity alone could make her stay.

“no, stay here.” you sulk, abandoning the cup within milliseconds and wrap your arms tightly around her neck.

She chuckles, enclosing your body in a warm embrace. "but, i’ll be gone for a minute, tops." she promises.

Frustrated, you give her your best puppy eyes, questioning. “why can’t they just come over here?” shortly adding the dramatic proclamation, "i’ll die in those sixty seconds." that she knows you mean. with a heavy sigh and zero hesitation, she looks up at the guy waiting for her, then shakes her head dismissively before returning her attention back to you.

“okay, okay,” she hushes you, “i’m right here, babe.” she says, kissing your forehead and shifting in more comfortable position to embrace you. resting her head on yours and utters the only good thing that has came out of her mouth tonight.

“how about that offer?”

requests are open, don’t be shy :3

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm

[!] — PERCHANCE YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT, look here for more info!

[concededlesbian]

can you write hcs of lover girl ellie williams, fluff and smut if you’d like <3

Lover girl!Ellie Modern AU Headcannons

Creds to @angelgbc for the third pic (correct me if I'm wrong though)

Ellie Williams x Female Reader

Content: Fluff and Smut

Rating: Explicit

Proofread?: Could've been if my friend responded to my message (jk I love her)

A/n: The grammar and punctuation is probs really fucking shitty because this is literally me just ranting. This is also my second time ever writing a headcannons list. Also I didn't know if you wanted this to be set in a modern environment or the canon one. I can make another version set canon one tho.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

SFW

Lover Girl!Ellie has craved a relationship since her first crush when she was fourteen.

Lover Girl!Ellie honestly thought she would never find love because she usually drove girls away due to her coming off as dry and uninterested.

That was until she met you.

Lover Girl!Ellie met you by sitting at a table with you in a crowded restaurant. She was waiting to pick up a to-go order and there were no empty tables to wait at. Ellie saw that your table was the most empty because you were the only one sitting there plus you also seemed to be waiting.

Ellie had approached you and asked if she could sit at your table and you smiled and nodded.

You guys sat in awkward silence for like 5 minutes before you broke it by complimenting her Savage Starlight shirt. She looked down at the faded shirt with the phrase "Endure and Survive" above an assortment of characters and groaned in embarrassment. "Oh yeah- I uh- got this shirt in high school it's so cringey."

You smiled at her response and responded with "Well, I think it looks cute on you."

Ellie immediately got flustered because, God, your smile was so pretty and you were complimenting her. Ellie replied with a "thank you?" She then immediately regretted how bitchy her questioning tone sounded.

Ellie mentally scrambled to save face when she saw how your smiley expression fell at her response.

"Sorry, I don't know why that came out that way. Thank you- like for real."

Ellie desperately wanted to make a good impression on you and was about to compliment your smile, but her words got stuck in her throat when her order was called out.

Ellie immediately got up to get her food, but before she walked away, she turned to you and asked if she could get your number. You looked a bit surprised at her question but nodded and took her phone to type your number in.

Lover Girl!Ellie excitedly texted Jesse and Dina that she successfully got a pretty girl's number.

Lover Girl!Ellie wrote about you in her journal for a week straight before you two started dating.

Lover Girl!Ellie found pictures of you from your social media (curtesy of Dina) and proceeded to draw you NONSTOP.

Lover Girl!Ellie finally texted you first and made small talk that somehow morphed into her explaining all her interests to you in depth.

Ellie literally thought she scared you away when she looked back at the paragraphs that she sent but was surprised when you asked her out on a date to the carnival.

Lover Girl!Ellie spent days planning for the date before it happened.

Lover Girl!Ellie who got you flowers on the day of the date.

Lover Girl!Ellie literally wanted to win you so many stuffed animals at the carnival.

She ended up getting you three

And you ended up getting her five

Lover Girl!Ellie playfully rolled her eyes and got defensive when you teased her about winning her more gifts.

Lover Girl!Ellie shut down your teasing by kissing you.

Lover Girl!Ellie asked you to be her girlfriend on the second date.

Lover Girl!Ellie as your girlfriend loves spending time with you.

Like she is all up in your personal space. Sometimes when you're laying on your stomach in bed she'll fully just lay on top of you.

"You're so warmmmm." She would sigh out every time.

Lover Girl!Ellie literally always wants you around.

She's taking a shower? She wants in the shower or in the bathroom with her.

Anytime Ellie's about to run an errand she ALWAYS asks if you can come with her.

"I'm going to the store. Can you come with me?" And all she has to do is pick up a jug a milk.

This girl would literally ask you to come with her to walk to the mailbox.

Don't even get me started on how she acts when YOU'RE going somewhere.

"Where are you going? Can I come with you?"

Cue her rushing to put on her converses and trailing behind you like you have her on a leash.

Lover Girl!Ellie is also a fien for physical touch

Her favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and rest her head on your shoulder while casually talking to you.

She also boops your nose repeatedly when she wants your attention.

Lover Girl!Ellie also "kiss taxes" you anytime she does you a small favor.

She always surprises you with it too.

Like, you'll ask her to peel an orange for you, and as she's handing it to you, she'll say "Kiss tax" and give you a quick peck on the cheek or lips before you can even think.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves kissing you

Lover Girl!Ellie that will buy things that that remind her of you.

"Ellie, why did you buy an ashtray? You don't even smoke."

"The design reminded me of you." She responds with the cutest smile ever.

You have to convince her to just send you pictures of things that are a reminder of you because you're honestly scared for her bank account.

Lover Girl!Ellie LOVES to bring you up in conversations.

Her favorite line is "That reminds of when my girlfriend..."

Lover Girl!Ellie insists on wearing little things that are yours just because she wants a reminder of you everywhere she goes.

Lover Girl!Ellie compliments you so much but gets so shy and awkward when you compliment her back.

Like she'll find anything to compliment you about but the minute you compliment her, she gets flustered and tells you to shut up (lovingly ofc).

"You look so pretty when you're cooking, Ellie." "Dude, shut up I'm literally just cutting vegetables."

Oh yeah, as much of a lover girl she is Ellie will still call you "dude" or "bro" even though you're her literally girlfriend, you are NOT an exception. Those words are ingrained in her vocabulary.

Also on the topic of nicknames...

Lover Girl!Ellie calls you over the top petnames to annoy the shit out of you.

"My pretty sugar plum princ-" "Ellie I swear to fucking God."

But when you give her a taste of her own medicine she gets SO flustered.

You once called her "pretty princess" and she was wide-eyed and speechless

Lover Girl!Ellie loves to share anything she enjoys with you.

If she likes a type of food, she'll want you to try at least one bite.

If she likes a show, she'll want to finish it with you.

Lover Girl!Ellie also writes sweet ass poems about you.

The type of poems that describe you as the joy in her life and compare you to the most pleasant things and experiences.

Lover Girl!Ellie keeps a list of your favorite things/interests in her journal.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves cuddling.

She doesn't care if she's the little or big spoon; she wants to cuddle.

Once again she loves being close to you.

Lover Girl!Ellie also values going on dates ever since she got with you.

Her favorite part about going on dates is planning them with you.

You once canceled a date last minute and Ellie was deadass mad at you for two days.

You made it up to her by taking her to a record store and paying for her vinyls.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves to show you off in public

Lover Girl!Ellie always looks at you with so much love and adoration in her eyes.

Because you're her girl

And, she is yours.

NSFW

Lover Girl!Ellie is obsessed with skin-to-skin contact.

She's so nasty about it too like she loves the feeling of your sweaty skin sticking to hers.

She prefers tribbing or scissoring over using strap-ons.

When she DOES use a strap, she prefers a missionary position because wants to wrap her arms around your body and whisper sweet words in your ear.

Like imagine her thrusting deep inside of you while calling you her favorite girl.

Lover Girl!Ellie is a dom switch in my eyes.

She's so soft though.

She rubs your thigh soothingly while grinding her clit against yours when you two are scissoring.

She runs her fingers through/strokes your hair when she has you on all fours and is thrusting from behind.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves dry-humping you.

It's like top-tier foreplay to her.

Like if things get heated while you two are kissing, she'll start rubbing her clothed pussy against yours.

There are numerous times when Ellie has either cum or made you cum in your pants while making out.

Remember when I said that Ellie will lay on you when you're laying on you're stomach...

Sometimes when she's horny, she lays on you, leans into your ear, and asks if she can use your ass to get off.

If you say yes, she practically fights her pants off and starts rolling her hips on your ass.

Even though you're not getting any stimulation, the sounds of her soft moans and the feeling of her thighs tightening around your hips as she gets closer to her orgasm leave you soaked.

It also doesn't help that Ellie will praise you like her life depends on it.

"Fuck you feel so good, Babe..." "You're such a good girl, wanting to help me cum."

When Ellie to cums, she fully falls forward, her tits pressed against your back, wraps her arms around your body, and moans and pants in your ear as she rides out her orgasm.

Afterwards, Ellie will finger until you're creaming on her fingers because she knows this experience leaves you so fucking horny.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves when you eat her out.

The sight of your face buried in her pussy is one she'll cherish until she's on her death bed.

She loves to stroke your hair and tell you how good you're making her feel

Most of the time eating Ellie out ends with 69-ing because she always wants to make you feel as good as you're making her feel.

Lover Girl!Ellie also loves to plan dates with you when she knows she's fucking you stupid.

Like she's asking you if you want a restaurant date or an outdoor date while her strap is nestled deep inside of you.

When you don't answer her, she says "C'mon Babe, focus." with a cocky smirk plastered on her face.

Then she'll make the strap rub against your G-spot every time you try to answer.

"Mmm, I didn't get that baby."

Lover Girl!Ellie also has thing for overstimulation.

She loves the vulnerability and trust she feels when fucking you and wants to make the experience last as long as possible.

She wants to make love until you're both sore.

When you calm down from a previous orgasm, she rests her head on your stomach, looks up at you, and asks "Can you give me one more babe?"

Obviously, there's a safe word you can both use at any time.

But the look of adoration on Ellie's face as she pushes you to another orgasm is enough to motivate you for another round.

Lover Girl!Ellie always provides aftercare.

She holds you tight in her arms while whispering words of encouragement.

Then she gets cleaned up with you, puts on a comfort movie/show, and cuddles you until you fall asleep.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

A/n: SORRY if this is shit! I literally finished this at 1 am and had a pounding headache. Also sorry for taking a decade to finish a fucking HCs list it's rough out here.

[skalfy]

Misunderstandings pt 2 (aka understandings)

alexia putellas x reader, ~4.9k words, part 2/2

The very long-awaited (by me and maybe no one else) second part to this one!

Ingrid had been shocked, then eventually amused when you finally managed to explain Alexia’s presence in your apartment. You couldn’t help but to share her amusement at the situation, albeit tempered with the frustration at how avoidable the whole situation was. It seemed especially ironic that the crueler Alexia had gotten in defense of her friend, the more it had driven you to rely on Ingrid. Jenni had, of course, found the whole thing hilarious. The dark-haired Spaniard had spared a thought for you in acknowledging that it didn’t make your Barcelona career so far any less hellish, but then immediately dissolved into laughter as she made you recount every detail of the captain’s misguided trip to your apartment. By the time you got off the phone with her, Jenni had brought herself to tears with laughter at least three times, the last as she tried to do her best impression of how awkward Alexia would be as she tried to make up for her behavior.

Jenni had not been wrong. 

Alexia had started by apologizing. It was sincere, and she looked so miserable that you had no doubts that she had been thinking about her behavior. You had wanted to be tough, to make her work for it, but when she came up to you the next morning with bloodshot eyes and an apology that took full responsibility for her actions and acknowledged how hurtful she’d been, with the promise of more to come, you had accepted and told her you just wanted to move on.

For Alexia, “just moving on” apparently meant cautiously hovering at all times. On the field, she had turned from your greatest critic to your (mostly) silent guardian angel. She was the first to check on you at any sign of discomfort, and showered you with an assortment of items. Water bottle? Alexia was already handing it to you. Chance of rain? Alexia saw you didn’t bring your jacket and just grabbed an extra one, it’s here if you need it. It would have been a bit annoying if she hadn’t been so perceptive and thoughtful. As she paid closer and closer attention, she got quite good at predicting your needs.

—

A few weeks after the apology, Alexia’s hovering had died down to a less alarming level. She still seemed to be extra concerned with your wellbeing, but there was a lot less of the awkward lingering that Jenni had anticipated. 

Without Alexia’s poor treatment to contend with, you had also gotten more into the rhythm of the team as well, and you were enjoying time with the team, especially the regular team events. 

At the moment, though, you had been feeling the threat of a cold coming on for the past few days, and that plus a cool, rainy game, had left you feeling even more achy and tired than you expected. It was a bit disappointing to miss out on team bonding, but you hardly hesitated to send a message to Lucy and let her know that you wouldn’t make it to the movie night she and Ona were hosting. You loved the team, but you were certain your head wouldn’t be able to take the laughter and loud chatter, not to mention your shoulders and neck were knotted so tight that anything more active than lounging around on your couch sounded miserable.

A gentle knock on your apartment door roused you from the half-sleep you had fallen into. You were disoriented for a moment, head throbbing angrily as you raised it from the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Pirates of the Caribbean was still playing quietly on the tv, and at first you thought that was what had woken you, then another knock at the door sounded and cut through your confusion.

Dragging one of the blankets along, you crossed over to the door and opened it, revealing Alexia.

Unlike the last time she had appeared at your door, the midfielder didn’t push her way past you. Instead, she stood in place, fingers twisting nervously as she waited for you to acknowledge her. For your part, you just stared as your fuzzy head caught up to the situation.

“Hi,” your voice cracked, so you cleared your throat and tried again with marginally more success, “Hola, Alexia.”

“Hola,” she replied. “You weren’t at the movie.” It didn’t sound like a reprimand, but you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes anyway. You felt so uncomfortable and unwell and the thought that Alexia might be here to tell you off for skipping team bonding was overwhelming.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, tugging the blanket tighter around your shoulders and dropping your gaze to the floor.

“No, not sorry! I mean-- dios mio!” The captain sighed in frustration and your stomach dropped. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for her to continue. Instead, you were startled by a cool, dry hand gently cupping the side of your head. You couldn’t resist leaning into the soft pressure, and after a second it shifted from your cheekbone to your forehead. “Lo siento, I just came to make sure you are okay. I did not mean to upset you.”

You opened your eyes as Alexia slid her hand from your forehead back into the loose strands of hair escaping your bun, guiding them gently away from your face. The light touch felt good on your aching head, and you fought a shiver at the sensation.

“You feel warm. Let me help, vale?” 

You weren’t expecting the offer, but you also weren’t in a state of mind to ponder it further. Plus, while you weren’t sure how you felt about the captain, you did trust that she meant well this time.

“Vale.” You answered, then turned to walk back to your couch. Behind you, the blonde hesitated for a moment before following you in and shutting the door. 

After removing her shoes, she entered the living room and hovered awkwardly above where you had laid back down. You scrunched your feet up to make room for her at the end of the couch, but she made no move to sit.

“Have you had paracetamol?” 

You shook your head no, then winced at the shot of pain the motion sent from your neck to the base of your skull.

“Is it your head or your neck that hurts?” 

“Both, and my shoulders. Just tight from yesterday.” She nodded slowly.

“Where is the paracetamol?”

“Bathroom. Above the sink.” That was apparently her last question and you listened with closed eyes as she walked away.

You half-drifted off for a few minutes as Alexia made her way around your apartment, eventually setting a few things on the coffee table near you. You heard her knees crack as she crouched down, then felt her fingertips trail along your shoulder softly. 

“Can you sit up, cari?” Her tone was kind and you complied with the request, moving gingerly. “Gracias. Have this first.” She passed you a mostly peeled banana. You shot her a look, but obediently took a small bite. The midfielder waited patiently as you ate the whole thing, then traded the peel for two tablets and a glass of water. You took the pills with a sip of water, then reached out to return the glass to the table. Alexia intercepted you and pushed the water back, a smile tugging at her lips as you gave her another look before drinking the rest.

“Buen trabajo.” The praise might have made you blush if you were feeling better, but as it was you just handed the glass back.

Before you could lie back down, Alexia grabbed the pillow you had been using and sat where it had been. Setting the pillow on her lap, she gestured for you to lay there, guiding you until you were comfortable on your stomach with the pillow under your head. Surprisingly, the position felt much better than when you had arranged yourself on one side before.

“Okay if I rub your shoulders? To help with the pain?” She asked, voice a little uncertain.

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, desperate for anything to ease how tightly the muscles were knotted.

“Vale.” Her fingertips sunk gently into the muscles of your upper back, thumbs working carefully against the tops of your shoulders. The pressure was light, but you could feel her warm, steady hands start to soften the tension. 

You had nearly started to drift off again when the Spaniard moved to slide one hand up to grip the back of your neck. Caught off guard, you surprised yourself with a muffled groan as she dug her fingers in. Her hand stilled, but didn’t move from where it rested.

“Hurts?” Alexia asked in a low voice.

You kept your face tucked in the pillow, but responded, “Only a little. Feels good.

“Good.” You could hear the edge of a smile in her voice.

It didn’t take long after she resumed the massage for you to slip back into sleep.

—

This time when you awoke it wasn’t to the sound of someone at your door. You blinked yourself slowly into full consciousness, realizing as you did so that you weren’t alone. There was a hand cupped protectively against the back of your head, fingers threaded into your hair, and the warm glow of morning light throughout your apartment.

You were surprised to feel only a mild twinge of pain as you tilted your head to look up at the midfielder who was still sitting under you on the couch. You were amazed to see she was fast asleep, tucked into the corner of the couch, but still mostly upright. It couldn’t have been a very comfortable position, but she looked remarkably peaceful. 

After another moment of studying the sleeping blonde, you mentally shook your head and began to slowly extricate yourself from her lap. You felt well rested and far better than the night before, but now your body was reminding you that your dinner last night had only been a banana. Just as you carefully started to sit up, Alexia’s hand moved, stroking softly through your hair as she mumbled sleepily.

“Estás bien, dormirse”

Your heart squeezed at the way she instinctively tried to provide comfort. 

“Gracias, Alexia. I’m okay.” You replied quietly, gently completing your move to sit up out of her grasp. “I’m just going to make some breakfast, you can lie down and sleep.”

The blonde didn’t acknowledge your words, but when you stood up and draped your blanket over her form she did lean deeper into the couch and burrow into it rather adorably.

—-

As you moved through the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and heating up a pan for eggs, you thought about your visitor. It had been clear already from Alexia’s actions that she was trying to make up for the way she had treated you at the beginning, but the concern and care she had shown last night was more than you had expected. It hadn’t felt like an act either, the midfielder had simply seen you feeling poorly and stepped in to help. If this was the Alexia the rest of the team had all along, then you understood why everyone else held her in such high regard.

You were pretty certain, deep down, you had already forgiven the captain, but last night had certainly washed away any last temptation to hold a grudge. Alexia may have been in the wrong, but she had shown that her opinion of you had changed, and that she felt guilty about how cruel she had been. And, not that it excused anything, but you did understand her motivation in a sense– if nothing else she was trying to be a good friend, you’d grant her that.

The midfielder had been one of the players you were most excited to play with and learn from, so finally realizing that you both might be able to put the rocky start behind you was a relief. You felt almost like a weight had been physically lifted from your chest, though maybe that was just another ache that such a good night of sleep apparently fixed.

“Bon dia.” You looked up from the stovetop at the sound of Alexia’s voice. She was standing in the entryway looking somewhere between sleep-mussed and frustratingly model-like.

“Bon dia, Capi” you replied. “Thank you. For checking on me and for staying to help, I feel much better now.”

She ducked her head, but you caught a flash of pink across her cheeks as she did so. “No hay de qué, I’m glad you are better. Thank you for letting me sleep on your sofa.”

Now it was your turn to feel your cheeks heat. Did Alexia not realize you’d spent the whole night half on top of her, or was she just trying to give you a chance to pretend otherwise in case you were embarrassed. You chose your next words intentionally. “You are welcome to it anytime you would like, though I don’t think I gave you much of a choice when I fell asleep on you.”

The blonde’s bright smile told you that you chose correctly.

“Do you want any coffee? Eggs?” You asked, finally remembering the breakfast you were in the middle of making.

“I would, but my sister has already texted me four times to demand I meet her. I just wanted to check to see if you need anything before I go.”

“No, you’ve done more than enough for me already, don’t make your sister text you a fifth time.” You said, sliding the pan off the heat and stepping over toward Alexia. She stood completely still as you approached, but when you reached up to pull her into a hug, she softened into it immediately, wrapping her arms around your back to hold you tight. It reminded you instantly of the comfort of Jenni’s hugs, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d missed out all these months of not hugging Alexia.

—

In the weeks since she had spent the night, you felt like you had turned a corner with your relationship with Alexia. You weren’t holding onto the memories of her unkindness, and there was no longer any part of you that feared her attitude might change again. The only problem was that it didn’t seem like she had the same confidence you did. You couldn’t help but feel like the captain was still going out of her way to make it up to you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the special attention she was paying you, but what you really wanted was to move on and put the whole thing behind you. Alexia’s guilt over something you’d already let go wasn’t necessary, and there was a not-so-small part of you that feared if you waited too much longer you were going to end up hurt when she inevitably pulled away on her own. Once the Spaniard realized that everything was fine between the two of you, she would go back to being a professional, a teammate and captain and nothing else, and you understood that. It was just that it made your heart sink a little to think about it. You had gotten used to her attention, nothing more than that– but you know that it would be better to cut things off before you got too used to it.

All these thoughts were not far from the front of your mind when you arrived at the last full practice before your first Champions League game. Alexia met you as you stepped out of your car (or, rather, Alexia materialized a foot away from you when you looked up after closing your car door, which startled you the first few times, but now was a normal part of your morning). The midfielder passed you one of the two coffee cups she held, giving you a quick smile in response to your enthusiastic “¡Gracias!”

The coffee thing was a relatively new part of the captain’s arsenal of apology gestures. She had appeared one morning and nearly forced the cup into your hand before walking away quickly. Once you had recovered your wits, you had taken a sip and discovered that it was a dirty chai– your favorite. It had only taken a little wrangling to get the story from Ingrid; Alexia had FaceTimed Mapi from the coffee shop and demanded to be handed over to her girlfriend so that Ingrid could give your order to a highly amused barista. Since then, the morning coffee had become a regular occurrence, and you had managed to get the midfielder to stick around and walk in with you.

You were intent on practicing your Spanish, so the two of you chatted the whole way, Alexia patiently letting you work your way through what you wanted to say without interrupting. She was one of your favorite people to practice with for that reason– so many of your other teammates were quick to finish your thought for you, or just wanted to practice their English instead.

It was exactly this kind of interaction, though, that was troubling you, and you resolved to fix the situation once and for all by the end of the day.

—

Practice had gone well, and you were feeling both nerves and excitement as you walked off the pitch knowing that there was just recovery and a light training session between now and your UWCL debut. The familiar sounds of Patri and Pina’s banter filled your ears as you followed the pair into the changing room, but when they suddenly went silent, you looked up to see both pairs of eyes looking right at you. 

“Someone has an admirer,” Pina said, giving you a pointed smirk. You were confused for a moment, then saw past the two of them to your locker. There was clearly a vase of flowers inside, along with a ribbon-tied white box. You felt your cheeks flush. Unable to come up with a witty response to knock the curiosity out of your nosy teammates, you just shook your head and slid between the two to reach your locker and the gifts inside. 

The flowers were beautiful, and you moved them carefully off of the box and deeper into your locker. Normally, you might have had the good sense to spirit the gift away from the prying eyes of your teammates, but you were certain you recognized it, and you couldn’t wait a moment longer to confirm. You pulled the red ribbon to release the knot, and as it fell loose, you raised the lid to reveal exactly what you suspected. 

Inside were four mouthwatering breads that you knew immediately were from the little bakery near your apartment in Nuevo Leon. It had become a tradition, almost a superstition, for you to stop there on the morning of an important game when you had played for Tigres, and it was a tradition you sorely missed. You felt a sting behind your eyes as you realized what someone had done for you.

You closed the box up carefully, protecting the perfect breads once again before you made your way to shower. As you crossed the locker room, you caught the gaze of your captain already on you. Her cheeks colored, but she didn’t look away immediately, offering you a bashful smile that confirmed what you already knew about the source of your gifts.

—

By the time you finished your shower, everyone but Alexia had filtered out of the changing room. She was quiet as you toweled your hair dry and dressed, eyes glued to a boot that she was holding and… inspecting carefully? You broke the silence as you .

“Someone left beautiful flowers and a very thoughtful gift for me. Maybe someone who did their research and found out one of my old traditions.” At your words, Alexia finally looked up.

“Hmm. A lo mejor.” Her tone was neutral, but the same bashful smile you saw before crept across her face. “They are right? I had to trust Jenni and she likes to… joke.”

“Yes, they’re perfect. Thank you, Alexia.” You crossed the room to pull her into a tight hug, whispering an extra “gracias, capi” as you pulled back.

“You are welcome,” she whispered back, sounding almost breathless. “I just want you to feel happy here like you did there. And I want you to score goals for us in Champions like you scored for Tigres.”

You laughed at her final comment, but even to your own ears your huff of amusement held a dangerous edge of affection for the woman in front of you. A woman who, you reminded yourself, was just trying to be a good captain to you and make up for the weeks of misguided ire.

“Maybe I’ll even score a golazo for you.” You said, cringing inwardly at how much it sounded like a line one of the men’s team players would try on you back in college. You tacked on “As a thank you, of course.” somewhat awkwardly. Alexia’s smile in response was so bright that you couldn’t tell whether she was laughing at you or genuinely pleased by the prospect. Either way, you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Trato hecho. I will see you tomorrow.” The midfielder gave you one last quick smile as she turned to leave. As you watched her cross the room toward the door, you remembered your resolution from the start of practice. As much as you appreciated Alexia’s kindness, you had to rip off the proverbial band-aid. You called out to the blonde making her way out of the locker room.

“Alexia!” 

She stopped and turned immediately at the sound of your voice, walking back over to where you had both stood a moment ago.

“¿Sí? You are okay?” Her eyes scanned across you quickly as if checking to make sure you hadn’t somehow been injured in the last 30 seconds.

“Yeah, I just needed to tell you, um…” you trailed off, wishing now that you hadn’t called her back quite so impulsively. Her eyes had now settled intently on your face and it caught you off guard when you saw the intense, almost hopeful look in them. “You should know that I already forgave you, Ale. A long time ago. I appreciate how nice and thoughtful you have been, and the gifts and everything you’ve done, but I can’t let you keep doing it out of guilt. You can treat me like everyone else now, I just want to have you as my teammate and captain.”

“You.. que?” She furrowed her brows elegantly, face puzzled for a moment before it smoothed over into neutrality as she seemed to comprehend your words. When she spoke, her voice matched the blankness of her face. “Ah. Vale. Okey. Solo tu capitana.”

Her tone and words surprised you, but before you could react, Alexia mumbled a quiet “adeu,” and made a break for the door.

—

You had puzzled over Alexia’s reaction as you gathered up your belongings, flowers and box of panes included, and headed home. You had expected her to be, maybe not pleased, but at least glad to hear that you had moved past the earlier bad blood. She had clearly cared about fixing things, given the amount of effort she had put in to make it up to you, so why wouldn’t it be good news to her that you wanted to move past it?

The moment her face dropped into impassivity still hung in your mind as you set the beautiful vase of flowers on your kitchen table. As you rotated them slightly to appreciate the bouquet, a folded piece of paper caught your attention. It was nestled unobtrusively between soft petals, tucked away discreetly, probably so that prying eyes like Pina’s wouldn’t notice at a glance. You slipped it out carefully, unfolding and smoothing the creases so you could read the words inside.

Hola Y/N,

I hope you like the flowers. The florist said they mean luck and strength. You are already strong, and I know you don’t need luck, but they are very beautiful and extra luck is always good.

There was a crooked smiley face at the end of the sentence, and the thought of Alexia drawing it made you smile.

I am so happy that you are playing for Barca, and I am excited to watch you play in Champions League for the first time. You will be incredible, like you always are. No matter what happens in the game I am already proud of you, and I want to thank you for letting me earn your trust after how I acted.

If you have forgiven me, would you let me take you out to dinner after the game?

Con cariño,

Ale

The unfiltered kindness made your chest burn warm with affection, and you felt a swell of excitement at the invitation. It sounded almost like the captain was asking you on a date, and the idea filled your stomach with butterflies. Suddenly, your heart dropped. If it was an invitation to go on a date, then your words in the changing room must have sounded like an attempt to let Alexia down easy. You had clearly told her that you only wanted her to be your teammate. Thinking that you were freeing her from the burden of winning your forgiveness, saving your own heart from accidentally being strung along by the well-meaning captain, had you ruined the chance of more? 

Without thinking, you picked up the phone and called Ingrid.

“Hei du! What’s happening?” The norwegian answered after a ring.

“Ingrid. I think I fucked up.”

You explained the situation to her, speaking so quickly she had to ask you to slow down and repeat more than once. You finally finished with a wavery voice. “Do you think there’s a chance she might… have feelings for me?’

“Y/N…” Ingrid drew your name out slowly, then paused. “I think Alexia has been pretty well in love with you since about two days after she found out you weren’t stealing me from Maria. Herregud, you’ve been the only thing she talks or thinks about besides football. Maria’s been complaining for weeks that Alexia is too busy watching you to notice all the pranks she’s pulled on all children.”

You didn’t know what to say, and for a long minute Ingrid didn’t push you. Then, finally, she spoke again.

“Do you have feelings for Alexia?”

Your instinct was to defer, and “I don’t know” was right on the tip of your tongue, but before you said it, it felt wrong in your mouth. You thought about the way being around Alexia felt, the way you felt warm all over when she praised you, and how incredible it felt to be the center of her attention. You also thought about how good she looked on and off the pitch, the way her whole face lit up with a smile, and how she had looked standing in your kitchen, sleep-mussed from a night asleep on your couch. You bit your lip, cheeks rising in a grin.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“I think you better give our capitana a call.” You could just about hear the twinkle in Ingrid’s eye.

“Thank you, Ingrid.” 

You exchanged your goodbyes and ended the call, then after a deep breath, before you could lose your nerve, you called Alexia.

“Y/N?” She answered immediately.

“Alexia, hi. Hola.” You immediately stumbled over your words. “I read your note. I hadn’t read it yet when we talked before.”

“Sí, vale…” She said, imploringly.

“I thought everything you have been doing was to apologize, so that’s why I told you that I had already forgiven you. Because I have, and I like being your friend, and I like when you are sweet to me, and pay attention to me, and ask Jenni and Ingrid what my favorite things are. I was afraid that if you were doing those things because you felt guilty, that one day you would realize you didn’t have to feel guilty anymore, and you would start treating me just like every other teammate. Which would be okay, but it would also break my heart a little. So I wanted to make sure it happened soon, because I thought the later it happened, the more it would hurt.” 

You paused, and the midfielder made no move to interrupt your explanation.

“But after reading your note, it made me think that maybe I misunderstood. And it gave me hope that you might have feelings for me. Like the feelings that I have for you. So when I said I just wanted you to be my teammate and captain, I didn’t know that there could be an option for you to be more. So let me try to give you a better answer to the question you wrote in the note: I have forgiven you, and me gustaría mucho ir a cenar contigo.”

“Really?” Alexia breathed out.

“Really.” You replied. “I like you a lot, Alexia.”

“I like you a lot, too.” The smile in her voice was unmistakable, and you felt the last vestiges of worry drop away. You might have gotten started on the wrong foot, but things were looking pretty good after all.

Not planning for a part 3, but if anyone is really interested, let me know and I could be persuaded :)

tag: @marvelwomen-simp

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 5/7

summary: part 5 of the naive series baby!! you and mandy get some one on one time bc she’s going thru it until she sends you and hamzah off on an adventure of ur own ;)

contains: SFW and NSFW content… it’s going down.

w/c: 3.4k-ish

a/n: ik yall hate me atp but listen. listen. uhhh.. yk what just read it!

~

Hotel breakfast is really good. It's even better when you can be an annoying vacationer and sit in the dining hall to eat while wearing your pajamas. The dirty looks from the well-dressed staff does nothing to deter you from going to town on a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with assorted spreads. The one thing that is ruining your appetite, however, is your gloomy friend prodding her food with her fork.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you ask for what feels like the hundredth time that morning.

"Mhm."

Mandy continues moving her eggs around her plate and never taking a bite. She's been in a near catatonic state since last night. By the time you'd taken a shower and gotten unready, she'd already passed out in your bed without so much as an explanation as to what happened. You exhale loudly and she looks up.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

She drops her fork. "I think Martin is hiding something from me."

"Oh!" Your eyes widen and you try to look confused. "What makes you think that?"

"He's been acting so weird," she says, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands. "Even before we came on this trip... I don't know. Something's off."

"What d'you mean?"

"He's being so secretive," she says. "I don't have proof of anything, but he's, like, really bad at acting innocent."

"Is that why you guys have been fighting?"

"Well, I don't exactly want to fight with him!" She tosses her hands in the air. "I wish he'd come out and say whatever it is. It drives me crazy that he acts like nothing is going on."

In that moment, you consider blurting out the truth. Talking about Martin's proposal idea would be so much easier than sitting back and watching the couple get into trivial arguments from Mandy's growing paranoia. But alas, you've sworn to secrecy and you really don't think it would be your place to ruin the surprise, even at a time like this.

"Have you asked him about it?"

"Yeah. He just deflects. I thought I could get him to talk last night, but I ended up crying because I got so frustrated with his cryptic bullshit."

You're stuck on what to say. It breaks your heart to see Mandy like this, but there's not much you can do without giving away her soon-to-be fiancé's plan. It's not exactly a conversation you thought you'd be having to mediate.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think Martin is doing all of this to deliberately hurt you," you say, reaching across the table to hold her arm. "He loves you. A lot. He's just an idiot sometimes."

Mandy smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Thank you."

"I mean it, Mandy. What you guys have is really good. Don't let a bump in the road ruin the rest of the journey."

"When did you become such a beacon of wisdom?" she asks sarcastically, looking down at the table.

"I'm trying my best here. Be grateful." You begin to laugh and she joins in.

You bring your plate back in front of you and gesture for her to do the same. The two of you chow down and talk between bites, discussing what other places you could visit before your inevitable departure from Curaçao. Despite the challenges, it's been an experience for the books and you take a moment to reflect on the joy that it's brought you.

As you take a sip of your tea, your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you unlock it, you open up the message notification and bite your lip to hide your smile.

i see u

"Is that Hamzah?"

You look up at Mandy and your face flushes. "Huh?"

"You remind me of when I first started talking to Martin." Mandy points at you with her knife.

"Shut up," you groan. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Yeah." Mandy nods. "Plus I saw his name on your screen."

You glare at her and she giggles at your expense. Over her shoulder, you spot him. He's in the buffet line, also in his pajamas, and you stare for a little too long at his grey sweatpants. When he turns his head in your direction, you duck behind Mandy's figure.

"He's coming." You use your phone camera to quickly assess your face. "I look rough. Fuck."

"Girl, you look fine," Mandy says, rolling her eyes, "and you've literally slept next to each other. It's nothing he hasn't seen before."

"Wow, uplifting. Thanks."

When you dare to raise your head again, he's making his final few strides towards your table. You smile and wave, and he attempts to do the same. He shakes his hand that's holding a cup of coffee and it sloshes around, nearly spilling all over him. Mandy gives you a funny look before greeting him.

"Good morning," Hamzah says cheerily.

He places his plate and cup next to yours. You scoot over so he can sit down, but he moves to sit so close to you that the sides of your thighs are pressed up against each other.

"Good morning," you reply, slightly taken aback by his chipper mood. "Sleep well?"

"I slept great," he says. He takes a bite of his eggs with bacon and looks between you and Mandy. "So... was it a breakup?"

You slap him on the arm and scoff. "Come on."

"'M just asking!" he all but shouts, earning the three of you a couple more dirty looks. "Last night looked serious."

"No, we didn't break up," Mandy mutters. "But I'm considering it if it means not having to deal with you anymore."

"That's mean," Hamzah says, taking another bite of his food. "I'd stay friends with you if I broke up with Martin."

"Don't talk while you're chewing," Mandy warns.

"Thorry." He swallows his mouthful. "So what are we supposed to do if you guys are still fighting?"

"I don't know, Hamzah." Mandy sighs. Then she looks at you. "I don't really feel like going out today. Maybe you two could do something."

Your eyes narrow and she shrugs innocently. "Where would we go?"

"Google some nice places. Walk around the city. It can't be that hard."

"I'm down," Hamzah says. "I'm in charge of directions, though."

He smiles mischievously and you mock him, making him laugh. You turn to Mandy, noting the way she's picking at her food again.

"Will you be okay? You can stay in my room, but I don't know what time we'll be back."

"There's free WiFi and room service. I'll be fine. Go have fun."

Mandy was right. Finding something to do in such a tourism-centered area isn't hard. The difficult part is spending time with Hamzah with no social buffer to avert the tension between the two of you. You hope it's not too apparent that you're staring at him every chance you get, but you can't find it in you to care about getting caught anymore.

"Now we go left," he mumbles, placing his hand on your shoulder to direct you to the crosswalk.

You know he tends to be touchy with his friends, but with how awkward he usually is about it, this feels different. Even when you hung out as a group back in Toronto, you could always sense that Hamzah was a little more hesitant around you. You chocked it up to not knowing him that well, despite having mutuals. Being close with each others' friends did provide an entry point for your friendship to blossom, but this trip has done more for your connection than all the time you've known him previously. Maybe it's because you're in such constant, close proximity now that your initial attraction to him has finally taken shape, unavoidably so.

"Alright, it's down from here," Hamzah says, gesturing at the beach you're nearing.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you say, furrowing your brows.

"We're not swimming." He shakes his head. "Over there."

You look to where he's pointing and take notice of the mountainous landscape surrounding the beach. Their overarching coves reach the edges of the shore where the waves splash against the rocks.

"I'm not cliff diving. No way."

You stop in place and cross your arms. He turns and walks a few steps back to you.

"We're not doing that either, my gosh," he grumbles playfully and takes hold of your hand, "follow me."

Hamzah leads you through the sand to the bottom of the ridges. This beach isn't nearly as busy as the one near your hotel, so the silent walk with your palm in his feels all the more intimate. The sun is less harsh under the arch, but the sand is still warm beneath your feet. The soft earth easily gives way as you take a seat in the deeper parts of the rocky expanse.

"How'd you know this was here?" you wonder.

"I found it before the trip," he says, stretching his legs out in front of him until the waves are barely licking at his skin. "I didn't think I'd get the chance to visit, though."

"Guess it's a good thing for the fight then," you joke. Hamzah looks at you with his face scrunched up and you share a laugh. "Sorry. Too soon."

You stare out at the horizon, absentmindedly cupping the sand and letting it pour down between your fingers. The waves are crashing, but there's a quiet serenity inside of the cove that makes you feel at peace.

"Nah, I just think we talk about them enough, right?" He leans back to rest his weight on his palms and your eyes flicker to the sight of his shirt stretching across his pecs. "Wanna talk about us."

"Right," you agree. "I never really expected this."

"What?" he asks. You become aware of how close his body is to yours.

"'Us.'" You make quotes in the air with your fingers. "I didn't even think you saw me that way."

"Really?" he questions, tilting his head. "I thought the same thing."

"Hm. Funny."

You move to lay on your back. You'd decided against changing out of your pajamas—the two of you look infinitely more out of place in such beautiful scenery—but it makes for great cushioning against the ground. Hamzah stays unmoving, looking straight ahead.

"Do you see us being the same way? When we go back home?" He speaks outwardly, eyes on the view.

"I don't know. Do you?"

"You answer first," he says, smiling at you from over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and try to push yourself further into the sand, as if it'll provide a protective barrier between him and the words you're going to say next.

"I hope so," you answer honestly. "I don't see why it’d change."

"What if it doesn't feel the same?" he asks like he's talking to the sky. "What if it's just because we're here, y'know? Isn't it usually a 'what happens in Vegas' thing?"

"Oh, so you've done this before?"

Hamzah groans and you snicker, flicking sand into his pocket. He doesn't notice so you continue until it's full, giggling to yourself.

"Of course not," he says, shaking his head. Some of the sand trickles out. "I guess what I'm saying is...I hope you don't feel that way."

You take a deep breath to calm the butterflies that erupt in your belly and sit up. You look at the impression your body has left in the sand before turning to completely face him, criss-crossing your legs.

"I won't," you promise. "I couldn't."

"Good." Hamzah's eyes finally meet yours. "I don't think I'd be able to handle it."

You grin and let your fingers trail up the side of his neck, not wanting to hold your affection back any longer. He closes his eyes as you trace his cheek, the charming acne scars and slight stubble on his jaw acting as a roadmap for your fingertips. Then, you cup his chin and lean in. His lips move softly against yours. He places his hands on your thighs and runs his fingers across your bare skin where your shorts have ridden up. It's almost like the whole world goes on mute, and all you can possibly focus on is the way his touch awakens every cell in your body.

Without breaking the kiss, Hamzah pushes you down into the indented sand until he can comfortably slot himself in the middle of your legs. He holds himself up with a hand by your head, the other resting on your waist. The gentle caresses turn heated, and pretty soon the two of you are full-on making out, pulling each other closer and closer until his body fully surrounds yours. You love how he hums when you wrap your arms tighter around his neck and run your nails across his shoulders.

You can't get enough of him, holding his hips in place with your knees as your tongues entwine. When his hand strays below your hoodie, you pull away momentarily to slip it over your head. He helps tug it off you when it gets stuck, the two of you giggling quietly before tossing it away and locking lips again. His fingers trace a path up your torso, clad in nothing but a thin tank top. His palms slowly find their way higher up, and you moan when he gives your chest a testing squeeze. Upon hearing this, he squeezes again before running his thumb across your nipple, making you shiver.

His hoodie comes off soon thereafter, except he's completely bare underneath. You run your hands down his chest and his stomach clenches under the ghost of your touch. When you reach the edge of his boxers, he breaks apart to leave kisses from your cheek down to your neck.

"I-I didn't really prepare for this," Hamzah whispers against you.

"You didn't shave?"

"No, idiot," he scoffs, making both of you giggle giddily. "I, um, didn't bring condoms..."

You breathe out as he continues kissing your skin. "That's fine. We don't have to do anything."

Your fingers are tucked in his waistband against his happy trail, but you make no effort to move them. If it wasn't evident already, his erection presses against you painfully, a reminder of how close yet so far you are from what you're craving. Still, he seems determined to make the most of the moment. He sucks on the spot below your ear, making your mouth drop open in a breathy moan.

In a hasty decision, you take your tank top off and lay back down. Hamzah's eyes follow along your newly exposed skin and he leans down to kiss a trail from your collarbone to the valley between your breasts. His hands leave a wake of heat everywhere he touches you, yet goosebumps rise on your arms when his lips reach your lower stomach.

"Can I?"

He looks up at you, his eyes half-lidded and his hands on your shorts. You nod and raise your hips so he can pull them off. When he sees your underwear, he raises an eyebrow.

"You wear boxers, too?" Hamzah jokes, tugging on your waistband and letting it snap against your skin. You flinch and he laughs.

"They're comfy!" you defend, blushing. "I wasn't exactly planning for this, either."

"I'm kidding. Why would I care?" He leans up on his forearms to peck your lips. "They're coming off, anyway."

He reaches under your final layer of clothing and you gasp when he touches you where you need him most. His lips part as he dips into your wetness, bringing it up to circle your clit deliciously. You grasp his bicep and your other hand holds the back of his head as he continues his delightful assault on your throat.

When you feel his fingers inch into you, your hips jut forward. He whispers praises in your ear as he fucks his fingers into you, first slowly then relentlessly. You can't contain your moans. Your fingers tug at his curls lightly when you feel the knot in your stomach forming. All too suddenly, he pulls his hand out of your underwear and you whine.

"As much as I like 'em, they gotta go," Hamzah says, leaving one final kiss on your jaw before dragging your boxers down your hips.

He flings them aside and you breathe heavily as he descends to your lower body, situating his head between your legs. He plants kisses on the inside of your thigh teasingly, dipping his head down only to start back at the top with the other thigh until he has you squirming under his grip. Just when you think you've reached your limit, he bites at the swell of your thigh and connects his mouth to your core. Your lungs spasm as you feel his tongue flick your clit, struggling to catch your breath at the surreal sensation.

He sucks on your bud and has you a complete mess of moans under him. Loosening his grip from your thigh, he makes eye contact with you as he brings his hand back to your center and his fingers penetrate you steadily. Your back arches and he groans when you clutch at his hair. He suctions his lips, watching every reaction and noise you emit without once coming up for air. It's a dizzying sight, and your head lolls to the side as your moans get louder. He works harder, curling his fingers, toying with you in all the right ways to make you fall apart.

"Just like that," you cry out, "Hamzah, please."

You're panting at this point, yearning for a release that's sure to send you reeling.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs. "Cum for me."

The quickening of his pace has you clenching around his fingers, and as soon as he speaks those words, you screw your eyes shut and let your climax overtake you. Your jaw slackens and you throw your head back. Your legs shake uncontrollably as you call his name out in broken gasps while you ride out your high. The scent of saltwater and moss fills your nostrils, and all at once your vision clears when he lightly kisses your sensitivity. You sharply inhale and white-knuckle the sand below you. Your other hand wraps around the side of his neck to hoist him back up so you can be face-to-face.

Hamzah's arms cage you in and you pull him down to lock lips. He tastes sweet. Then, he rolls the two of you over so you're sitting in his lap while he lays flat.

"All good?" he asks, holding your cheek.

"Perfect."

You lean in to kiss him again, propping your hands on his chest. Teasingly, you grind your hips against his and he groans.

"Stop," Hamzah grunts. "I don't wanna cum in my pants."

The friction makes you shudder, but feeling how hard he is makes you not want to stop. You laugh and do it again, making him squeeze your hips. He halts your movements and grins, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"That's it."

Without warning, he sits up and you wrap your legs around him, latching onto him like a koala as he stands straight. The swift switch in positions makes you squeal. His palms cup your ass as he walks out from underneath the cove.

"What're you doing?!" you screech, clutching him as tight as you can.

"I asked nicely and you didn't listen!"

He cackles maniacally as he wades deeper into the water. When you're up to your hips in the waves, he turns backwards and sends the both of you plunging into the ocean. In an instant, you're soaked to your bones and springing up to the surface.

"You bitch!" you nearly scream as he re-emerges beside you. "I'm butt-ass naked!"

"No one's here, don't worry," he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "Look. Just us."

Hamzah lifts you in the water and swings you around to show you the entirety of the vacant beach. He's laughing above you while you smack his arms to let you go.

"Okay, I get it! Put me down."

You plummet into the depths once more.

~

a/n: sorry to disappoint w the lateness again this would’ve been updated sooner if california didn’t literally go up in flames around me and half my roof tiles got ripped off my house from the crazy ass wind (another one flew off as i typed this). also my dumbass friend deleted tiktok off his phone and we lost our 231 day streak bc he can’t get it back no matter what we tried. also elon did the hitler salute?????? what is going on. anyways lmk if u enjoyed or want me to rot for eternity <3 love yall sm

[indiecries]

Random assorted Obey me headcanons..✦

Lucifer:

Literally smells so good all the time, as in he could not shower for a week and he'd still smell like Cinnamon and Petrichor, Everyone questions this yet they don't have an answer. The only person who seems to have a clue is Satan, Who believes its an enchantment or a 'charm' as he called it that makes him presentable to people all the time.

As mentioned before, He smells like Cinnamon and Petrichor, but he also picks up the scent of Coffee after a couple hours because I think he drinks it to a point where it makes him agitated. He's always working if he's not shouting at his brothers for small trivial things and he needs to stay awake, Coffee is his go to and the smell is so strong people swear they get buzzed just by walking past him.

Heels. He wears a small heel on his shoes, why? to appear taller than his brothers therefore making him seem more powerful (even though Beel still has a solid 7 inches on him because he's like 6'9 in my head)

Can play the; Cello, Violin and Piano though he favours the Piano since he can always sit and lift up the fall board and start to play. He finds it comforting when he does so, mostly because it keeps him occupied and drowns out the noise of his brothers' antics.

Has his ears pierced and exclusively wears peacock feather earrings with gold hooks, makes him feel more regal and important.

Also he wears glasses more than he does in the games... Thats it. Thats the headcanon.

Mammon:

Is really skilled at maths, Very very quick with addition and multiplication, Even Satan asks him for help sometimes with work due to him being quickfire with solving. He had this skill before the gambling but that's where he utilizes it the most.

After meeting Mc: every time he sees rings in a jewelry shop he thinks of them, not necessarily in a marriage context but more so "I wonder if mc would like this?" or "I bet mc would like this,". He's very considerate of others despite his theiving habits, He could see expensive perfume and buy it for Asmo whilst he settles for the cheap stuff, or he could buy Satan the expensive books whilst he buys the cheap ones with barely any plot.

Takes long strides as he walks, hands in pockets, You can always hear him approaching because of the amount of jewelry and keychains he has strewn about himself always make noise when he walks. I also believe he fidgets with necklaces when he has them on, especially when he's flustered or he's thinking about something.

Stretches a lot, Cracking his knuckles or stretching before leaning back on the chair he's sitting on, I could make a joke about him doing the fake yawn thing so he can put an arm around you but I think he does it shamelessly, Mammon may get flustered easily but I don't think he has any shame in wanting to have an arm around you, I also think he does this to his brothers a lot because they're usually looking at stuff on their D.D.D's and he needs to look over at what they're showing him.

White eyelashes, theyre long and pretty and Asmodeus is definetly jealous of them, I also think he has a piercing on his face somewhere but I constantly falter between him having a lip piercing or an eyebrow piercing.

Leviathan:

His hair is shaggy and grown out, and littered with little orange streaks that contrast with the pale purple. It covers his eyes, which I think he likes because it means he can't see too many people at once (a little bit like Kenma from Haikyuu). I also think it comes down his neck, a little bit like a Mullet.

Hands are fidgety and shaky, always holding his D.D.D or his Console, if not those some kind of fidget toy. His hands are always in his pockets if theyre not actively doing something, I think he also picks at his nail polish which Asmo gives him an earful about because he worked hard on picking the perfect colour for him.

Has gauged his piercings to at least a 10mm because he thought it was cool (and it is) but he whined like crazy because it hurt as he was doing so. His ears are sensitive because theyre not really ears theyre more like fins that help with swimming when he's in his demon form.

Blushes like CRAZY like his whole body turns bright red, he'll most likely do the hand over his mouth thing but sometimes he gets so bad he has to pull his hood up over his face so no one can see him freaking out. Gets so defensive if someone brings it up though, has lead to him getting into a fist fight with mammon multiple times.

Also has long eyelashes but theyre lilac like his hair, His eyes glow in the dark, it scares everyone par Satan because his do the same. Leviathan also has sharp teeth like a sharks but he doesn't like people.pointing it out because it makes him insecure and he'll worry about it for the rest of the day.

Satan:

Hands on his face a lot, whether it be pinching the bridge of his nose when he's annoyed, hand on his chin when he's thinking or resting his cheek on his palm when he's reading or uninterested. He also has this habit of running his hands through his hair when he's trying to calm down.

Has fangs. very long fangs, they're noticeable when he's biting his lip in anticipation or shouting at someone, also a habit of when he's getting annoyed he'll clench his jaw or bite the inside of his cheek trying not to burst but if he's getting sadistically angry he'll run his tounge across his top teeth threateningly....(COUGHS)

His pupils dialate significantly when he's happy, He also purrs which makes cats like him because the cats know that he likes them. He didn't notice it for awhile until Belphie commented on it after resting on his shoulder one day, now it's actually apart of himself he enjoys. He tends to purr when you're around also just because he enjoys your presence that much. And as aforementioned his eyes glow in the dark and reflect in certain light.

Paces when he's thinking or taps his foot when he's getting impatient, he just can't sit still sometimes and those are his two ways of letting that agitation out, Mammon also takes him out on walks sometimes, through trials in nature or will take him for a car ride so he can just get out of the house and vent out his frustrations.

Wears a lot of rings, mostly gold ones with green gemstones but there's this one ring he got from Asmo, its definetly his favourite, Its a gold ring and in the center there's a fluorite gemstone in the shape of a cats head. It was a birthday gift and he smiles whenever he puts it on because of how thoughtful it was. His hands are also littered with scars, mostly because he punches stuff when he's angry but also because he gets a lot of paper cuts.

Asmodeus:

Collarbone Piercings, They make him look elegant get also sensual and he loves them so much, thinks theyre so pretty. Theyre silver bars with Rhodochrosite gemstones implaced onto the ends, they match his eyes!

Two Beauty marks, one under his eye and one under his mouth on the left side, they make him look dignified and like the work of a sculptor...(in his words). He actually used to cover them up until he forgot to one day and his followers thought he was so pretty with them, he hasn't covered them up since.

Affectionate but not always in the touchy sense, He listens a lot, though he's extroverted he stays quiet sometimes when his brothers are talking amongst themselves. He'll listen to them talk about what they like and pick it up for them and say "oh its nothing!" But he knows deep down how happy his brothers are about it.

Enjoys his weekly nail painting sessions with his brothers, loves catching up with his brothers since he's always out partying or in different classes. The most supportive person ever and will always back up them on their opinions, Asmo will always ask them their opinions about celebrity drama or their classes, or he'll stay silent when Belphie is sleeping as he does it. Asmo cares for his brothers deeply.

Sensitive cheeks, kiss him on the cheek and he'll turn red and starts giggling.

Beelzebub:

Really tall, Tallest out of all of them standing at an impressive 6'9. Belphie is significantly shorter at 6'1 but that doesn't matter. Beel is big, tall and built, he eats a lot and works out a lot, causing him to be really well built.

A really good cook actually, The HOL get excited whenever he cooks because his pallate is insane, he can just eyeball ingridients and it'd be perfect. Mammon especially enjoys it because he loves supporting his baby brother in the kitchen, he's on stirring duty and Is usually the one fetching utensils for Beel so he doesn't have to move from the stove.

Hates wearing jackets, Is usually just in a tank top because he likes having the cool air on his arms and back, it stops him from getting annoyed or agitated easily, but despite hating heat his favourite season is summer.

I don't think He has any piercings but if he did they'd be snakebites or double eyebrow piercings, he wears eyeliner rarely because Belphie does and he's curious. He doesn't really think about his physical appearance that much because he believes it isn't relevant, his hair is long and he has small amounts of stubble on his face.

Hates wearing rings because theyre usually too tight for him.

Belphegor:

Wears Eyeliner, literal edgelord, Piercings, Gauges, rings, edgy band shirts, that's him, he's the edgy one. He also enjoys wearing fingerless gloves like the literal 2000's goth he is.

Loves claw machines, they keep him on the edge and they actually require thought and then at the end of it all he gets a soft toy and pillow out of it! Its like a double win for him, gets excited when he sees them, not quite so visibly but his eyes light up and you can see the pep in his step.

He prefers the cold to the hot, he enjoys being warm but there's something about a cold room that really makes him drowsy, especially if its like a rainy day, cold room and he's perfectly warm.. and if you're beside him.. He rubs his eyes a lot after he wakes up though, it causes his eyeliner to smudge and he looks really hot..

really enjoys boba, all he has to do is walk up to Levi and grab his arm asking to get some, and despite Levi being anti social he agrees because Belphegor is one of his favourite little brothers and he likes speaking to him. Belphie definetly likes Ube the most because its purple... and he likes purple.. though he also enjoys strawberry flavors, he finds them refreshing.

Not very fidgety but does toss and turn without you by his side.

[yierrem]

lighter x ftm!reader

notes: its my first time writing something substantial/with a bit of plot (ㆀ˘･з･˘) i hope it isn’t too disappointing…

warnings: non-sexual nudity, mentions of scars, some creative liberties taken for descriptions of blazewood (i havent reached ch4 yet… im getting there..), copious amounts of pining (from lighter) and obliviousness (from reader) can be read as gn!reader due to no heavily gendered terms :D

when lighter asked you to accompany him on one of his supply runs to the city, you thought ‘why not’ and agreed. you needed a few things for the workshop yourself and you’d never turn down an opportunity to spend some time with any of your fellow members. it was like hitting two birds with one stone.

the ride to new eridu was rather refreshing despite the overcast skies (lighter was on the verge of self-combustion feeling your arms wrapped around his waist from behind). after arriving in lumina square, everything goes smoothly: it takes both of you less than an hour to procure the things you needed (mostly daily necessities, requests from the girls, and materials you needed for repairs), but its on the drive back where everything starts to go wrong...

a few drops of water falling onto the visor of your helmet (courtesy of lighter) was no big deal until they started to fall in a continuous drizzle. both of you realized you probably should’ve checked the forecast before leaving when the rain picked up, battering heavily on both your shoulders.

it would be suffice to say that the pair arrived at the doorstep of the sons’ shared quarters in the lower levels looking like sopping wet cats. when lucy opened the door to you, it was with an earful of nagging while piper sat on the sofa to the side with an amused, sleepy grin. ‘at least the supplies aren’t damaged..?’ ‘you’re shivering, techie.’

when both of you have ensured that most of your purchases were intact and not waterlogged, you headed to your shared room to freshen up; wet socks are never pleasant, after all.

lighter takes off his sunglasses first, swiftly wiping off any spare moisture before placing it on his bedside table. he peels off his gloves and jacket next, wincing at the droplets that rolled off the garments to the floor, and draped them over a chair as he pulled his scarf off.

he looks over to you to ask of your condition when he sees your hands moving to lift the hem of your sodden shirt and he freezes. a flash of your stomach and the question dies on the tip of his tongue. he quickly glances away, probably giving himself whiplash.

this didn’t escape your notice, either, as you pause to snort in amusement, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil you were causing him.

“a peek won’t kill you, lorenz,” you tease, finally pulling the drenched shirt off your body. “i’ve seen you shirtless countless times before.”

lighter mutters something in reply, his back still resolutely turned to you to give some semblance of privacy while you changed. if his hair was just a bit shorter, the red flush of his ears would’ve been visible.

“…just dry yourself off,” he settles on saying.

even when he wasn’t looking at you, it was as if every single one of lighter’s senses were heightened as long you were in proximity. every rustle of your clothes and every breath he took seemed ten times louder and his heart seemed like it was beating audibly enough for you to hear.

“i’ll head to the showers first, then, if you aren’t done yet.”

he turns to look with the intent to reply something in acknowledgement for the sake of appearing unaffected, but then he just stops. and stares (he swears he didn’t mean to) at the sight of your shirtless body.

while you weren’t nearly as scarred or built as the champion himself, you possessed an assortment of blemishes accumulated over the years you’ve lived as a mechanic for the sons of calydon. there are burns on your arms that have healed into tender skin, and you’re sure there’s a sizeable scar somewhere on your left leg from falling off a bike once (which was most likely when big daddy realized you were better off fixing rather than riding them. you still laugh at that, sometimes). light bruises and scratches are littered across your upper body from always bumping into machinery and they accompanied the two horizontal lines of damaged tissue on either sides of your chest.

would you let him place his lips over them the way he dreams how you’d kiss all of his? maybe exchange stories about them, too, as you lay in each other’s embrace in the night’s silence. he wants to memorize the expanse of your body, if you’d allow him. to gently run his fingers over your shoulders, waist, and back, and cup your face in his palm as you both lean closer and—-

“lighter?”

his thoughts come to a screeching halt. when he meets your gaze, he clears his throat, shifting his eyes to some vague corner in the room.

“um. you were saying something?”

“…i said i was gonna head to the showers first.”

showering with you might be nice. your fingers gently massaging shampoo into his scalp after a long day…

“right. yeah. you can go do that.” he feels like his face could rival the red of his scarf. he hopes you can’t see it in the dim lighting as he turns away once more, busying himself with wringing out the water from said scarf into a spare bucket.

you stand there in bemusement, staring at his back for a few (excruciating) seconds before shrugging and muttering a quiet ‘mn.’ then you finally, finally, step out into the corridor down to the communal showers, the door closing behind you with a click.

once he was sure you were gone, lighter stops nervously fidgeting with the red cloth. he buries his face in his palms with a groan, trying to will away the violent drumming of his heart against his chest.

he’s seen so many people with their upper body laid bare before, both in and out of the ring he used to fight for his life in, so he was practically immune to any sort of shame when it came to certain forms of nudity. hell, he even partook in it sometimes on particularly hot days, choosing to go shirtless over wearing his usual getup.

but the fact that he’s reduced to some blushing schoolboy at the sight of your skin baffles him. he was aware he started to harbor some affection towards you at some point, but he wasn’t prepared for the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that came with it and you.

…he needed to do something about these feelings soon. not now, but maybe later, lighter. he thought.

‘some champion i am..’

[shalomniscient]

the people of the springs are well known for their parties. they last from dusk until dawn, the pools of warm, healing water echoing with the sounds of music and merriment. humans and koholosaurs alike participate in the festivities, and for a moment, the thought of conflict is the furthest from anyone’s minds. even more so now, with the end of the war, to the point where the people of the springs—or more specifically, mualani—are comfortable enough with sending an invite to the speaker’s chamber.

you recieve the letter from one of the staff members that same afternoon, skimming through it as you head back to the bedroom. your eyes rove over the swirly text written in mualani’s easy hand, rather engrossed in her promises of freshly prepared metzli snacks to notice mavuika coming out of the shower, hair damp and sticking to her shoulders, which happen to be painted with an assortment of hickeys and lovebites.

“whatcha got there?” she asks, head tilted in curiousity. you hum, looking up from the invite, and hand it off to her to read. sunburst eyes pass over the invite for a few seconds before she nods. “sounds fun. do you wanna go?”

“we’d have to bring swimwear,” you point out, and mavuika shrugs.

“fine by me. unless you’re not comfortable? if so, we don’t have to go.”

you shake your head. it’s not about that, but if mavuika is certain, then you don’t see the harm. “no, no, i’m alright. just thought i’d ask.”

your archon lover hums, running a hand over her wet hair until it begins to glow, and you see the water evaporating from the flame-bright strands like she’s some sort of human-shaped kettle. it’s always an amusing sight—especially that little lick of hair that always stubbornly sticks up, despite her best efforts to keep it down. it’s almost unbearably cute. once her hair is dry, she’s zipping into her bodysuit, and then with a kiss on your lips she’s out the door.

“be ready by the evening,” she calls, mounting flamestrider with a grin you can tell is on her face by the way her eyes crinkle through her helmet, “i’ll pick you up.” she’s gone in the roar of an engine, and you watch fondly as her figure gets smaller and smaller in the distance. you know she’ll always come back, after all.

the hours pass by faster than you thought, and soon enough, you’re waiting outside the arena for your ride. the little knapsack on your back contains both you and mavuika’s swimwear, and tucked beneath your arm is a helmet just like mavuika’s. when she arrives she greets you with a quick kiss, her own helmet pushed up just far enough, before urging you onto the back and asking you to hold on. you do, arms wrapping around her slim waist, and then you’re both ripping down the path to the people of the springs.

the party has just started when you both arrive. mualani, already in the water, excitedly waves you both over. a cursory glance around shows a surprising turnout—somehow, the hydro user had managed to wrangle xilonen, chasca and kinich to join in on the fun this time. all of them give polite—and lazy, in the case of xilonen—nods to you and mavuika. you slip your bag off your shoulders and rummage around for your swimwear.

“let’s change and join them in the water,” you suggest, and mavuika complies with an easy smile, a hand resting on the small of your back as she guides you both to the changing rooms. they’re rather small, with a capacity of one per stall, so mavuika takes her swimwear and head to another stall while you take a separate one.

mavuika’s bodysuit peels off easily enough, perhaps thanks to the many open panels. she’s done in a few minutes, while you’re still busy changing. the marks from earlier this morning are still present on her skin, but it’s a little party between friends; nothing too scandalous. after all, it’s not as if natlan doesn’t know about their archon and her lover.

mavuika steps out of the changing room and is immediately greeted by a whistle from xilonen. the blacksmith is submerged up to her chin, no doubt indulging in the pleasant warmth of the spring. her eyes like emeralds twinkle with amusement as she takes in the absolute state of mavuika’s shoulders and neck.

“you two sure know how to have fun, huh?” the feline woman teases, and mavuika rolls her eyes as she sinks into the water next to her. “keeping the missus happy like it’s your day job.”

well, mavuika wants to say, but before she can, you emerge from the changing room, and everyone takes a moment to stare. if mavuika looked marked up, well—you look like you’ve been mauled. ajaw, who somehow managed to escape timeout, shrieks as you lower yourself into the water from the stepladder, the clawed state of your back on full display.

“what the hell?” the little dragon yells, his voice shrill, “did you wrestle a tepetlisaur or something? or a bear?”

chasca snorts from her perch on the rim of the spring, idly swaying her legs in the water. “‘keeping the missus happy’?” she echoes xilonen’s words, “more like our archon is the one being kept happy.”

“we should thank you for your service, then,” kinich quips dryly to you, flicking ajaw away into oblivion as he does so. you chuckle good naturedly, settling in next to mavuika, who, to her credit, hasn’t yet combusted into flames in embarrassment. a chorus of quiet laughter rumbles around the pool, before mualani returns with saurian crackers and drinks and everything is soon forgotten.

“this is why i pointed out the swimwear,” you giggle, leaning against mavuika’s shoulder as you nibble on a saurian cracker.

mavuika sighs, but a wry smile pulls at her lips. “yes, i’m starting to see that now.”

and yet, she can’t bring it in herself to find any regret for coming. because here, with you, and surrounded by friends—this is where she should be, where she wants to be. it has been so many years since she could take a well-deserved breath, without the weight of a nation on her shoulders. and she’d choose to be here with you over and over—even if that meant natlan finding out their beloved archon was a total bottom.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - han jisung x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)

wc: 5.6k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: best friends fuckin, gender neutral pronouns used but reader is afab, jisung being stupid, minho being slay, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.

a/n: part two of the fratboy series!! i really hope you guys enjoy this one bc bratty ji means so much to me :D

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: ji is a brat, reader is dom in this one, READER IS MEAN (JISUNG LOVES IT), face slapping, oral (reader rec), dirty talk, degradation (ji rec), pussy drunk!jisung, cum eating, slight edging (both)?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up the next morning feeling incredibly satiated, for once in your life. Minho had managed to fulfill a lot of kinks that you didn’t even know you had, realistically, and you praised yourself for being so dumb to announce that you wanted to be his sex slave last night. The dominant man had given you more than enough attention, and you knew you’d want to come back for more. 

Waking up in Minho’s bed didn't feel strange, weirdly enough. He’d headed out early, and left you a little plate consisting of a tall glass of water and a snack with a note saying that he had to leave for his shift at work, and that he was sorry. You grinned at the note. He was courteous enough to do that even after fucking your brains out the night before. You’d eaten the snack - a simple assortment of fruits - and downed the water, before heading home for the day. 

After a shower and a clean outfit a lot more casual than what you’d worn the night before, you felt fresh and ready. Well, as fresh and ready as you could be considering you’d tried to phone and text your best friend multiple times since leaving the frat house and he’d literally been ignoring you.

You blinked down at your phone, seeing another text sent by you to Jisung that had simply been left on read. You’d even tried to phone him, but he’d let it go straight to the answering machine. After the third ‘this is legendary rapper J.One, spit bars after the beep’, your patience had run thin. You were confused, obviously, because what the fuck had you done to bother him so much? He was fine with you sleeping with Minho last night, and he honestly had no right to be angry about it when him and Felix had been so fucking persistent about it. Speaking of, you wondered if the resident sunshine had any idea what you’d done to the other member of your triad. 

You quickly went onto the contacts app, clicking Felix’s name that was fortunately close to the top, given your late night group FaceTimes with Jisung. He answered almost immediately. 

“Hey, angel. What’s up?”

You blanched. You hadn’t gotten this far in your plan. “Hey, Lix. I was just wondering, um… have I done something to annoy Jisung? He’s like, completely leaving me on read when I text him and he’s refusing to answer any calls.”

Felix went silent at the end of the line. “Oh, right. Yeah.”

“... What does that mean?” 

“His room is next to Minho’s, you know, and he was in bed when you fucked Minho. He woke up not too long after you put him to bed,” his deep voice was anything but comforting. “He heard everything.”

“Oh. Okay. Why is this a problem?” You three knew everything and anything about each other, and you’d literally exposed your undying lust for his older frat brother the night before. What’s the big deal? Also, given the state Jisung was in last night, you were honestly shocked he remembered hearing anything, let alone actually waking up. You’d actually thought he’d be out for the count, sleeping all day and nursing a horrific hangover after too many of his Hanji Supremes.

“Well, you know Ji. He’s insanely horny. It turned him on and now he’s terrified to look into your eyes because he’s thinking about it.”

Oh. Oh. He was thinking about you and Minho? Was it Minho he was focused on, or you? You went silent on the line, and after a few times of Felix repeating your name to get your attention, you finally answered. 

“Right. Right, yeah. That makes sense. Thanks for clearing that up, Lix,” you replied, still quiet. You weren’t too sure how to address it. “What do I do?”

Felix’s deep chuckle resounded over your tinny phone speakers. “Apart from fucking him senseless, I don’t think anything else could help him here unfortunately.”

You raised your eyebrows. Had you thought about that before, fucking your best friend? Of course you had. You were no stranger to Jisung’s sexual preferences in bed, knowing that he liked to be a brat and be treated a little meanly by someone powerful. ‘A little’ being an understatement, actually. It was something you were no stranger to, and honestly, you knew that if you ever wanted no-strings-attached sex, it would be Jisung you’d go to. No thought needed on that one. You knew Felix was probably joking, but it was making you think on the topic. Could you do it? Could you fuck your best friend?

Yeah. Yeah, you could. It had you wondering if Minho would mind, but you quickly shook that thought out of your head. You’re not together. You can have a bit of no-strings-attached sex with your friend.

You hummed, nodding. “Okay. I can do that.”

“W-Wait, Y/N, I was-” You hung up the line, a determined set to your jaw. You were gonna go to that frat house and find out what the fuck had gotten up Jisung’s ass - if Felix was right, then he was going to have the time of his life. If he was wrong, then you had another situation to solve, which would be no problem. You had some weird feeling that Felix was right, though.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You arrived at the frat house, narrowing your eyes at the front door. Something about it seemed so offending to you. The fact that one of your two best friends was in there right now, wallowing in loathe and hatred for you just because he wanted you to be mean to him? You could do that. You knew that you could be a little mean. You also knew that you were making some vast assumptions. You swung open the door, not caring about knocking, and started to storm up the stairs to Jisung’s room.

“Damn, Y/N, back for more already-” You ignored Seungmin’s quip as you stormed up the stairs, and swung open Jisung’s bedroom door. It was messy, as usual, clothes strewn everywhere that were probably both dirty and clean. Random cans of pop were sitting on his desk and his skateboard was propped up against the wall, looking like it had seen better days. His bed wasn’t even made. You resisted the urge to chastise him on the mess and instead stared straight at his sitting figure, hunched over the desk staring at his laptop, his large over-ear headphones resting on his head. The music production major hadn’t even noticed you’d come in, head bobbing to the beat blasting through the headphones. He was in work mode. 

Fuck work mode. You stormed over, ripping the dark blue headphones off his head and throwing them onto the desk. He turned to you, round eyes immediately widening further and jaw dropping slightly. His cheeks had already begun to burn crimson. You felt a bit bad, sighing at his facial expression. You were becoming soft already. “Sungie, honey, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

“I-” Jisung stared at you. He was unable to form words, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie. “Nothing. I didn’t expect- why- you’re here?”

You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t too convinced that Felix was right anymore, with Jisung being a ball of nerves and anxiety in front of your very eyes. You immediately started rambling, unable to stop yourself. “Yes, I’m here, because my best friend was leaving my texts on seen and wasn’t picking up my calls. Which you never do, you can’t ever shut the fuck up. You can’t blame me for thinking I’ve done something wrong here, Sungie. You didn’t seem to mind last night, and I’m sorry if I made it weird by sleeping with Minho, but-”

“N-No!” Jisung stammered out. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his joggers, before throwing his head in his hands and sighing. He looked about five seconds away from kicking out his feet and screaming. “Not done anything wrong. You haven’t, I mean. I have.”

You were no stranger to Jisung when he was like this, stumbling over words and not able to get his point across. You sat cross legged on the floor in front of him, just patiently waiting, speaking with a soft voice. “Just tell me, Sungie. Is it something we can fix?”

“Yeah. No. Yeah. Okay. Maybe. Like, so… you’re gonna think I’m a freak.”

“I always think you’re a freak, Jisung.”

Jisung scoffed, flicking your forehead. He spun on the computer chair to face you. “Shut up. Do you want to know or not?” You nodded eagerly, resting your hands on his knees. He looked at your hands as if they’d offended him, as if they’d framed him for murder or something. “I- I- Okay. Okay! Haha. Yeah. Okay, so basically, I heard you and Minho last night. Room’s next door, y’know?”

You pursed your lips. “Makes sense. Thin walls.”

“Thin walls,” Jisung agreed, nodding. He looked dazed, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in hesitation. “It’s just- you know. Minho was mean.”

“Y-Yeah.” You tried to avoid thinking of last night with Minho as if it hadn’t plagued your dreams afterwards anyway. In reality, you were getting sick of this conversation. Surely he could give you a little more here? You weren’t a mind reader.

“Yeah. He was mean. I guess it… yeah, okay, it turned me on. I wanted to be… like that,” Jisung mumbled. He was still staring at the wall, but his eyes were narrower, as if he was really focusing on something. Probably the memory of what he’d heard. “Not like Minho. I wanted to be like you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You… wanted to be like me? With Minho? That’s okay, Jisung-”

“No!” He practically screamed, jolting up off the chair. He started to pace, running his hands through his hair even more, before shaking his head. He pointed at you with an incriminating stare. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed. But I was thinking of you as Minho, and me as you. You get me?”

You almost gasped out loud. So, Felix was right. “Y-You want me to be… mean to you, Jisung?”

Jisung stopped pacing. He was almost vibrating with nerves and excitement. “I- Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know it’s weird, because you’re my best friend, but I-”

You found yourself speaking before you’d even planned on saying anything. “Did that get you all hot last night, Sungie? Did you jerk off hearing me and Minho, and wishing it was me being nasty to you?”

Jisung blinked. For a moment, you thought you’d gone too far, and his round eyes simply stared directly into your soul. You began to speak, to apologize, to say anything to diffuse the tension, but Jisung was shifting on his spot, jumping from foot to foot. He started pulling at his joggers, lithe fingers yanking the fabric every which way and- oh.

Oh. He was hard. Painfully so.

It hit you then, how much you wanted your best friend. You’d always been attracted to him, you weren’t blind, but you’d always strictly put each other in the friendzone. Maybe some friendly fun could be okay? It was convincing when he stood in front of you, all messy chestnut hair and pouty lips that begged to be kissed, maybe even bitten. He was pitching what looked like a very uncomfortable tent in his joggers, sweater paws pulling at the cotton uncomfortably. 

You let out a breath of air, staring at his bulge. If you squinted just right, you could probably see the definition of it. “… J-Ji, do you want to…?”

“God, Y/N, please.” With those words, you shot up from your seated position and pushed him up against the wall, his back hitting it with an almost silent thud. He gripped your shirt immediately, clenching his fingers tight around the cotton and looking as if he was going to burst out of his own skin at the anticipation. You slammed your lips together, teeth clacking and making the kiss not at all friendly but the whine Jisung let out was worth it. You could smell his cologne, something that smelled faintly of flowers but still so Jisung. 

He breathed heavily into the kiss as you pressed your tongue into his mouth, using one hand to reach up and pull on his hair softly. He whined again at this, hips just barely moving forward from the wall in an attempt to gain friction. Desperate, you mused, and the revelation didn’t shock you at all. You pressed your body further against his, pinning him against the wall covered in miscellaneous rap posters and hearing the paper crinkle behind him. You pulled away from the kiss, just letting your head stay close to his so that your wet lips were still brushing against his pouty ones to tease him. It worked - he looked like he was about to die if you didn’t kiss him again.

Tentatively, you took your hand from his hair and moved it downwards to wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides. You could feel his heartbeat, quick and heavy against your fingertips. His cheeks were flaming, bright crimson and his chest heaving underneath the thick fabric of his hoodie.

“P-Please. Please, I- Been good, I’ve not been bad, not been a bad boy-“ You huffed at his babbling, shoving your free hand down his joggers. When meeting the lack of boxers, you laughed internally. It was just so Jisung to work on music with no underwear on. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had nothing under his hoodie either. 

You tightened your fingers in a ring around the base of his length instantly, brushing past the smattering of dark hair on his pubic bone. He was thick, heavy in your hand and absolutely pulsing with need. He instantly let out a rather high pitched moan and writhed, trying to fuck into the tight ring you’d created around his cock. “You’ve not been bad, huh? Explain to me why such a good boy was jerking off to his best friends fucking last night then, Sungie.”

Jisung writhed, hands flying up to grip your shoulders. You started to jerk him off at a languid pace, taking your time and staring into his eyes. He looked like he was trying to answer, brain running a hundred miles per second but no words came out of his mouth, only incoherent babbles. You raised your eyebrows mockingly. “Good boys fucking answer when they’re asked a question.”

Jisung simply blinked at you, unabashed moans still tumbling out from his dropped jaw. His eyes were darting between your hand, still moving at a slow pace, and your eyes, soft but menacing. You tore your hand away, his fingers immediately digging into your shoulders in protest.

“N-No! No, didn’t- I didn’t mean to, was just- hnng.” He was struggling to get his words out, toes curling in his socks against the carpeted floor and his eyes watering with tears. “Please. ‘M so hard, Y/N, please. Fuckin’- make me cum, Jesus-”

“I know you’re fucking hard, obviously I can see that. It’s pathetic,” you scoffed. “Get on the bed. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

The doe-eyed boy nodded frantically, throwing himself onto the bed. He sat down, gripping at the hem of his sweatpants. 

“Off. Take ‘em off,” he mumbled, staring up at you with a glint in his eye. Oh, he was doing this shit deliberately, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he just take them off himself? “Please?”

“Fucking brat,” you muttered. You were in disbelief, in all honesty. Your best friend was a slut. It almost made you imagine what Felix was like in bed, if he’d be good for you or if he’d be an absolute brat like Jisung, or maybe he’d want you to be good for him like Minho did. You leaned forward, gripping his cheeks between your thumb and your index finger. His cheeks squished together comically, but he was still looking at you expectantly. You almost folded when you realized. “You want me to slap you?”

“Fucking- yes,” He groaned, trying to nod frantically, your fingers preventing him from doing so. You pulled your hand back, reaching back and delivering a slap to his round cheek. He immediately reeled with the sensation, bucking his hips up into thin air. “O-Oh. Yeah. Harder, harder, hit me harder-“

“You are so fucked up,” you said, in full shock. Your eyes were wide but you tried to hide it, shaking your head and sighing. You gave him another firm slap to his cheek, the same one, making him whine. “You are so fucked up, Jisung. You like being slapped in the face?”

He looked up at you, a stupid grin on his face. His cheek was smarting red from the abuse. “You’re even more fucked up. You like slapping me-“

You pushed him down by his shoulders, yanking his joggers off with one hand and keeping your other hand on his upper body to keep him still. He immediately yanked at the fabric of his hoodie, and you sighed, releasing your grip on him for him to pull that off too.

Immediately, planes of milky skin were exposed to you, the hinting of abs underneath his skin from gym nights with Changbin making you feel like you could drool. His cock laid hard against his tummy, hard and leaking amidst the hair adorning his pubic region. He was so fucking shameless. He was getting off from you hurting him, and being mean to him, and he didn’t give a fuck about it. 

Jisung smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth. He leaned up on his forearms. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jisung shook his head at your words, still smiling. You rolled your eyes, pulling your t-shirt and sports bra off with ease and revealing your chest. His eyes immediately went down to the exposed skin, his smile dropping. It was your turn to smile. “Maybe if you’d have been good, I’d let you have them in your mouth. But no. You’re just fucking filthy, Jisung.”

Jisung looked up at you, chest heaving and flushed with a deep blush similar to the shocking color on his cheek. He’d started to shift around impatiently against his messy bedding. “Filthy. ‘M- Yeah. Yeah. I am. Sit on my cock now,” You narrowed your eyes at him writhing on the sheets. “Please?”

You scoffed. You wiggled your own joggers off, leaving your underwear covering your core. “You think it’s that easy? Not everyone gets as turned on as you so fucking fast. No, I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna at least try to put those lips to good use. It’s the only thing that’ll make you shut the fuck up.”

Jisung let out a squeal as you crawled up onto the bed, shuffling on your knees until your clothed core was right above his lips. He immediately latched his lips onto your clit, soaking the fabric with his spit while he sucked hard. His hands went up to your ass, gripping tightly - you allowed him to have that small success.

He was a lot more precise than you’d expected, licking over and over again at the fabric until it was sodden and practically falling off of your core. Maybe it was due to his rapper tongue. You’d been trying not to let out noises all the way through, simply letting out some pleased sighs and gasps when his tongue flicked a certain way. The fabric was restricting though, not allowing you to feel his tongue properly. 

“There you go, that’s good enough. You can move it to the side now baby,” Jisung nodded between your legs, slender fingers coming to hook into the hem of your underwear and revealing your core. You were briefly shocked he’d even listened to you. It had, admittedly, become wet all from you making out and touching his cock a little earlier, but you’d never admit it if you were to keep up this persona that he so desperately craved. He whined at tasting you properly, wide licks cleaning up the mess between your folds and making your thighs twitch at the sensation. 

He was moaning into your core, shifting his hips up as if he was chasing your hole when it wasn’t even above his cock. You heard him mumbling something in between licks and you lifted off, allowing him to speak.

“Just- Just, please, sit on my cock. Please. Look’it,” Jisung’s lips were covered in a clear sheen from your pussy, his eyes wet with tears. He looked thoroughly broken. He hadn’t even made you cum yet, you mused, but in a moment of relent you lifted yourself off of his face and turned to look at his cock. It did look pathetic, actually, laying against his tummy in a pool of dribbling precum and steadily still leaking more. His hands went to grip the sheets, trying to avoid pumping his cock. You felt for him, just a bit, because you didn’t think you had ever seen a cock that wet in your life. 

“Oh, baby, look at that,” you falsely cooed, dragging your fingers down to pick up some of the precum on his soft skin. He whined, nodding at your words. You pressed a finger into your mouth, watching Jisung stare at you intently while you hummed at the taste. It didn’t taste of much, just with a bit of a salty aftertaste. “That’s pathetic. Look at all that going to waste, huh?”

“‘S not- Can’t help it,” Jisung mumbled. You’d officially broken him, you thought. Gone was his bratty behavior and it was replaced with watering, big brown eyes and a quivering pouty bottom lip. “Need your pussy. It’s so wet, I know you need it too, I-“

You pressed your finger into the pool of precum again, coating your index and middle finger and pressing it into Jisung’s mouth to effectively shut him up. He moaned around your fingers, tongue swirling around the pads as if he was sucking a cock. You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Now that’s fucking filthy. Do you like tasting your own cum? That’s pathetic, Sungie,” Jisung moaned at your words, vibrating around your fingers in his mouth. He started to try to babble around your digits, making you pull your hand away from his face.

He licked his lips, panting. “Not cum. Haven’t cummed. It’s just wet ‘cause I need you to sit on it, ‘kay?” You sighed, acting disappointed.

“Hmm, I guess I could have some mercy. You gotta make me cum though, Sungie, or you’re not cumming. Does that sound okay to you?” You shimmied off your underwear, dumping it on the floor next to his clothes.

“Yeah! Yeah! I can make you cum, yep! You just gotta- it’s- sit on it, I mean, will fill you up-“ You moved again, straddling his hips and resting your hands on the hints of his abs, soft skin beneath your palms. You lowered your now naked core over his length, solid and hot in between your folds. You started grinding along his dick, and Jisung looked fit to burst. “Are you- please! I can’t take it anymore, ugh!”

You shook your head. “Fucking brat. Beg.”

“Yeah, please, fuck please! Please, please need your pussy on my cock, please. I know I don’t deserve it, I know I’ve been bad,” Jisung spoke all in one breath, leaning up on his forearms to look at you. Your teasing had now caused fat tears to actually fall from his eyes, making you feel a bit bad. Maybe you had wound him up enough. “Shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have cum to you and Minho, I know, but you- could hear you moaning and I-“

You cut him off, raising a little to grip his length and sinking down onto it in one go. You shut your eyes, clenching them tightly while you adjusted to the size that was now pulsing against your walls. He was thick. The angle made sure that he was stretching out your hole perfectly, not too much to be uncomfortable. It made you let out a pleased sigh. You hadn’t had this privilege with Minho, just sitting there and letting yourself adjust, but then you’d loved it-

Before you could begin moving, Jisung flipped you over, beginning to thrust into you frantically. You jolted at the movement, letting out a loud moan. “Jesus- Jisung!”

“S-Sorry, sorry, no- I need to, fucking hell- gotta cum,” he was fucking into you at a quick pace, babbling about how good you felt around him. He’d grabbed your hips, pulling you up to meet his thrusts while he just used you as his fucktoy, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Y-You filthy fucking boy, look at you. Give you a bit of pussy and you get all fucking delirious, it’s p-pathetic,” You managed to get out. Jisung let out a loud moan at that, hips faltering. “Can’t even fuck me right, can you?” 

“Yeah! I can, I can, I’ve had loads of pussy,” Jisung mumbled, shifting his hips a little bit to try and get a better angle. He was working hard to please you, and in all honesty it did feel really good, but he was clearly getting off on being told otherwise. With an extra shift of the angle inside of you, he was pounding into your g-spot, making you falter and groan out loudly. “There. There! Told you, can make- oh fuck- can make it feel good- hnnnnng!”

You could feel the slick slide of his cock into your pussy, thrusting in and out and him moaning louder as he felt it get wetter with your arousal. It was dirty, extremely messy especially as you both worked together, thrusting against each other desperately for release. You gripped his biceps, fingers digging into the muscles as moans started to fall out of your mouth unabashedly.

“Oh God, baby, my baby, gonna cum-“

“Sungie, Sungie, wait, let me…” you reached down with two fingers and started to rub against your clit, thighs twitching with pleasure. You rubbed fast and quick, merciless as you tried to reach your orgasm with your best friend. His thrusts were staccato, uneven, but you rubbing your clit made up for any lost pleasure in the change of tempo. 

You quickly felt your high fast approaching, biting up your spine with the energy of a supernova. Domming Jisung like this had turned you on beyond belief, and finally having him put some effort into fucking you - well, you knew it wouldn’t take long. Your fingers were slipping as they rubbed across your bundle of nerves, but you pressed harder into the button and let the ecstasy overtake you.

Your toes curled as you finally let go. You bit into your lip to try not to moan out too loud, but small moans and whimpers still left your mouth at the intense feeling. Jisung had surprisingly hung on to the edge, watching you intently as you came and slowing his hips to a slow grind so that he didn’t cum inside you. You let your hand fall to the side as your orgasm finally subsided, chest heaving and bottom lip bitten raw. 

Jisung pulled out, pumping his cock erratically. His breath was heavy, whines falling out as he used your cum as lubricant to let himself orgasm. “Baby, where do I..?” 

You smiled. “Can do it on my tits if you want, Sungie.”

He moaned loudly at this, shuffling up to press his cockhead between your tits. It slid around messily with yours and his combined juices, but he quickly started grinding it down against your skin. It only took one, two, three thrusts before ropes of hot cum were flooding from his tip and even landing on your chin, making you stifle a giggle. He was loud, whining and sobbing through his orgasm as if you’d just given him the best thing he’s ever received in his life. You probably had.

He rubbed his thumb over his cockhead, finishing his orgasm before slumping to your side. 

“Fuckin’ wow. That was so good, oh my God. You’re totally such a good Dom, like what the fuck!”

You huffed. He really does never shut the fuck up, does he? “Ji, maybe stop talking and get me a towel?”

“Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Totally. I gotchu,” He shot you finger guns before hopping up off the bed, totally not bothered by being fully naked in front of you. He grabbed a small face towel from his drawer - it was surprisingly clean - and came over to you, wiping you delicately. You felt touched that he’d actually wiped you clean. It was Jisung, after all. It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d licked it up. He stood up afterwards, wiping his now soft cock with a clean part of the towel.

You groaned as you heard your phone chime with a new text, leaning over to grab it from the pocket of your trousers on the floor. Your heart almost stopped beating.

It was Minho. Apparently, his shift had ended, and he’d texted you with a quick ‘come to my room when you’re done’. You gasped. Jisung quickly ushered around the bed with the de facto cum towel to read your phone over your shoulder.

“Oh shit. You totally got in trouble for fucking your best friend.”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Jisung!” You looked back to the text message, and typed a quick ‘sure’. You blushed, anxiety mounting in your stomach. “I hope he’s not mad.”

“Doubt he will be,” Jisung chirped, pulling a clean pair of boxers on. “Your high sex drive and thing for frat boys hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of us, Y/N. He knew what he was getting into by ruining that pussy-“

“Jisung, I hate you. Why did I fuck you again?”

“Because you wanted to see me cry.”

You huffed, pushing past him to put your clothes back on. Your hair was mussed up, and you knew you smelled of sex. Trying to push that thought aside, you quickly shoved your socks back on before going to make out the door. 

“Hey!” You turned around to face Jisung. He didn’t even look sheepish, standing there with his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. “Got anything to say to me?”

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a quick “love you, Ji” before leaving his room. You heard him sing-song an affirmation back to you, but you were already making your way into Minho’s room, not bothering to lock the door.

He was laying on his back, dressed more comfortably after work and with his laptop propped in his lap. You tried not to die just looking at him. Minho turned to you upon entry, raising an eyebrow. “Have fun?”

You hopped from foot to foot. “Y-You’re not…?”

“Mad? Why would I be?” Minho shoved his laptop off of his lap. He sat up, stretching nonchalantly before looking at you again. “You thought I’d be mad because you fucked Jisung? Very loudly, may I add?”

“W-Well, it was… this morning, it was-“

“Intimate? I’m aware,” He stood up, stalking towards you. “I think we should get one thing straight. I don’t care who you fuck. Hell, tick all my brothers off your list if it’s what makes you happy, but you better fucking remember that pussy belongs to me.”

“I-“

“Say it.”

“My p-pussy belongs to you, Minho,” You sigh, cheeks blazing, looking at him standing in front of you. He cocked his head to the side.

“Great, because I’m very aware that no one can ever make that pussy feel the way that I made it feel,” He returned to his sitting position on the bed, leaning back. “Fuck my frat brothers. I couldn’t care less. It’s me you’re coming home to at the end of the night - you did say you wanted to be my sex slave after all, right?” 

You nodded. “So, you really don’t mind?”

Minho shook his head, a cocky smile on his lips. “Like I said, babe. Tick them all off your list if you want to, but you better be sitting on my cock afterwards telling me all about it.”

Your jaw was officially dropped lower than it ever had been. Why did Minho have to be so fucking hot? You couldn’t cope. You couldn��t fucking breathe. You needed him biblically. Practically rushing towards him, you straddled his thighs easily and attached your lips to his in a desperate kiss. His hands went to your ass as if he’d been expecting it, because he probably had.

Tick them all of your list, though?

Now that sounded like fun.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @secretjj @phtogravi @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @starsandrqindrops @poody1608

[gummygowon]

my girl(s) | choi san

word count: 1.27k hehe

genre: fluff bro so much, slight childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, soon to be dad!san x pregnant!reader

warnings: san just worrying too much that he gets exhuasted

song playlist: my girl - the temptations, be my baby - the ronettes, la vie en rose - èdith piaf

author's note: seeing san get heated about how that one husband treats his wife made me think about how sweet and caring san would be in a relationship and then i started playing fifties's music and boom here where we are

choi san was just an absolute gentlemen, it was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much.

you vividly remember when you were younger, san declaring to the dinner table that his wife's hands will never be wet in the future, promising that he will be doing everything for her which impressed all the other neighborhood parents. a few parents joked at him to remember their daughters in the future which you rolled your eyes at. san was obviously bluffing and trying to impress everyone. you found it hard to believe that a man would be able to care so much for his wife like san said.

it was almost laughable how wrong child you was.

san quite literally did everything around the house, always insisting that you go lie down and relax even though he just came home from work. it was definitely a hassle trying to get your husband to relax let alone sit down after dinner since he was always insisting that he did the dishes even if he cooked.

"san, baby go shower," you whisper into his ear while he was doing the dishes, "let me do this. go relax."

instantly turning around in protest, san folds his arms in front of his chest, "no."

"san," you warn, the mother in your voice coming out.

"absolutely not." san protests, standing up even taller to tower over you, "you are my pregnant wife who needs to rest. i need my girls to rest."

"san, we don't even know the gender yet." you argue. it was only today that you found out you were pregnant after you realized that you were two weeks late and sped to the nearest drugstore for a test.

"i know but i think we're having a girl." san says knowing with smile on his face, he was just getting excited at the thought of having a baby girl. "still though, you should rest."

"san, i'm fine, you on the other hand should rest."

"but-"

"who has a eight hour shift at seven am tomorrow baby?"

"i do." san dejectedly answers with a pout on his face. san didn't hate his job as a martial arts instructor but if he had to choose between you and his job, he would choose you without a doubt over and over again.

"i promise when my belly grows you can pamper me all you want but not yet. you still need to take care of yourself before i'm unable to take care of myself."

"promise?" he asks as he intertwined his fingers with you.

"promise." you answer before sealing the deal with a kiss.

a few months later, when the baby bump began to show, san became even more protective of you.

finally on your maternity leave, you spent the time at home reading parenting books and knitting clothes for your baby making an assortment of colors. sometimes, you ventured down to the dojo that was connected to the house causing san to stop whatever he was doing and guide you down the stairs.

"yah! choi san!" you shout at your husband who completely abandoned his lesson to aid you, "i can walk down just fine! go back to teaching!"

"no!" he argues before turning back to his class to yell, "five minute water break!"

a collective "yes sir" was heard from the group as the students dispersed to the sidelines.

"san, i love you but i promise i'm fine!"

"i know, but i still worry over you my love." san confesses as he carefully holds your hand as you walk down.

"aigoo..."

closer to your date, you spent most of your days either in the dojo working at the front desk so that san could keep on you (more like you could keep an eye on him) or upstairs reading more parenting books and preparing the baby's room.

"how's the baby?" wooyoung asks, an old friend of san who occasionally stopped by the dojo to check up on you and take out san to relax.

"doing great! the doctors are saying the baby is healthy and don't see any problems or complications yet."

"ahhh, that's great to hear! how's san doing though? still stressing?"

"oh you bet he is." you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "taking him out for a drink tonight?"

"trying to but you know he doesn't like to leave your side."

another sign escapes your lips, it was possible that san was stressing you out by not being able to relax. "i'll convince him. he's been worrying too much."

"good luck with that one." wooyoung laughs.

"woo!" your husband shouts at his best friend coming out of the studio to the front with a towel in hand. "what brings you here?"

"just checking in your wife and the baby." wooyoung starts before flashing a quick glance at you, "but the boys and i are about to head down to the bar if you wanna grab a drink."

"ahhh, you know i would love to but," san says looking down at you with a smile. lately he's been running around the house trying to satisfy you're weird pregnancy cravings and help with the morning sickness all while still working full time down at the dojo. the stress and exhaustion was evident on your poor baby's face as the eye bags deepened and he wasn't his cheery self.

instead of returning the smile, you frown at him confusing san. "go sannie, i'll be fine."

"don't-"

"san, i will be okay." you laugh a little, trying to ease san's nerves, "i'll be down the street okay, baby? you deserve a break."

san looks back at wooyoung who looks eerily similar to the devil on his shoulder. "are you sure? what about dinner?"

"your mom dropped off some soup for us earlier, i can eat that. go out, have fun! you need to have some fun once in awhile baby."

"fine, but not too late." san complies while pointing a finger at wooyoung.

"i promise to bring him before eleven ma'am." wooyoung promises saluting to you before shooing san to go get changed.

"take care of him woo!"

the day of the pregnancy was absolutely terrifying yet exciting. it was the thrill of finally becoming parents that was the only thing keeping you sort of calm. your mind wandered every now and then to the idea of you being a bad mother but san was quick to shut down those thoughts.

you guys still didn't have any idea of what the gender was, deciding it would be fun to find out the day of. san was still confident that you guys were going to have a girl even though all the ajummas begged to differ with their superstitions.

"it's a girl!" the doctor exclaimed cuddling the newbown baby.

"i told you!" san shouts jumping into the air out of excitement before wrapping his arms tightly around you, his lips on your forehead. "thank you. thank you so much." tears of happiness flowed from san's eyes as he held you close, his warm embrace making you feel overwhelmed with his love.

"i love you so so much." san cried into your neck as he looked through blurry eyes at you cradling your daughter.

you couldn't even say anything too tired and overwhelmed to give a proper response. instead, you just cried with san holding the baby so close to your heart.

it felt refreshing? calming? something like that to be able to cry away your emotions. even the worries of becoming a mother washed away and instead hope and excitement for the future replaced the negative thoughts. you couldn't believe that you finally have a kid with the love of your life, not even just the love of your life but your best friend in the whole wide world.

god, you were so lucky to have a san in your life and he was just as lucky or even more to have you in his life. now, the both of you were fortunate to have a third in your new little family.

san let out a sniffle before planting a wet kiss to the crown of your head, "my girls."

[lorelune]

bathtime

|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 5.1k  || ao3 || previous + next ->

Even the best bath water will find it difficult to cleanse 'sin'.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

notes: well hello :3c welcome to part 3 of the architect-verse :3cc been cooking on this one for awhile 🙏 yandere blade is such a guy and scummy manipulative mommy kafka is so fun to write :3ccc thank you for beloved @ofmermaidstories for doing a read through on this one 🥺♥!! enjoy enjoy enjoy 💓

CW: dark content, yandere blade, captive/pet reader, discussions of noncon, references to past noncon on blade while he was underage and as an adult, references to past noncon on reader, use of the word rape, violence/thoughts of violence, past yingxing/dan feng, toxic blade/kafka

It’s normal for Blade to return to the Stellaron Hunters’ main vessel covered in assorted types of gore. Scraps of rent flesh, smears of blood, bile, scales— tendons and sinew wrapped under his forearms, clinging from the pressure of impact light-years away. The smell of it clings to him, still fresh, just barely beginning to rot. He stews in it during his typical return in small, covert starships. He half-suffocates with the stench of death.  

This is typical. Blade does not carry any opinion about it. If anything, he welcomes the potential of asphyxiation, though it never comes. 

Most routinely, Kafka will greet him as he returns and take him to clean up. Occasionally, when she is indisposed, Silver Wolf will be forced to hose him down in the communal gym shower or Sam will dunk him in the bath by the scruff of his neck. Blade does not... particularly enjoy the latter two options. Though he isn't sure entirely why, and he doesn't tend to dwell on it either. 

When Kafka collects him, it is easier, if nothing else. Less fuss, less grimacing over the smell of burgeoning rot and complaining that Blade should do this prior to arriving home. Blade doesn't care about the other Stellaron Hunters’ complaints, not really, but it does make the ordeal longer than it needs to be. 

(And maybe, maybe, he does not like being drenched in bone-chilling water and soaked clothing. He hates it.) 

Kafka will lead Blade back to her own room, strip him, and give him a warm bath. Frequently, she’ll take off her own clothing and join him. She’ll hold him close, his back to her front. Kafka likes when she is able to cow him into resting against her front, cow him into resting his cheek against her breasts while she scrubs away the worst of the grime. 

Never mind that they share the same, red-tinged bathwater. 

(Occasionally, things escalate. Touch that volleys between innocent and clinical and sexual. Kafka will stroke down the planes of his body, reach for his cock, and bring him to release. It’s— it's nice. He thinks. He can't tell.) 

It's hard to tell anything in the steam of the bath. Though Kafka's presence renders his mara mute, proximity makes it writhe regardless. It is not a soundless beast, though it loses its words. Muddy feelings, rather than anything clear cut. It's a reprieve regardless. 

This is why Blade prefers to be cleaned by Kafka. 

... 

This mission, however, Blade receives a text from Kafka during his return journey that she will be out. Along with Silver Wolf. And that Sam is charging and shouldn't be disturbed.  

However— 

Kafka: 

why don't you see if our little stray is up for a bath, bladie? 

There's a thought. One Blade hadn't considered. 

(There's a whisper of a refusal in the back of his mind. 'No'. Blade is not sure why. It is quiet but sure of itself.) 

Blade: 

When will you be back. 

Kafka: 

tomorrow. don't wait up until then. listen, just ask. 

Kafka's mind weaving does not work over text. But it is, regardless, difficult to resist her command. This is habit. 

Blade idles outside of your room. He has dripped mess across the vessel and left little piles of flesh and muscle in his wake. The quiet sound of blood splattering against the floor (his, maybe, though his regeneration should be almost complete) makes him aware of this. 

It feels uncouth to enter your room like this. 

Blade shakes himself off and leaks scarlet droplets against the metal paneling. methodically, he releases the five locks on your door. Each clicks when fully disarmed, and by the time Blade enters, you're already looking up at the door, eyes wide. 

You're tucked into bed with a soft blanket over your lap. A tablet (a gift from silver wolf at Kafka's behest. For 'good behavior'. Not connected to any internet, but you've told Blade it helps pass the time.) 

The device is promptly forgotten as you push yourself out of bed, "Aeons, Blade, what happened? Are you hurt?" 

You approach him with no caution. It's reckless. It's foolish, especially with this much adrenaline tumbling around between his eyes and in his veins. He has the distinct urge to shove you away and into the floor. Compress you until you break and bleed and bleed and break. 

Blade does not. 

Instead, he lets you flit around him. He lets you draw your own conclusions. 

You are not foolish. You know he is dangerous; he knows you know this. It is your... good nature that creases the surely-soft skin between your brows. It's your kindness that has you frazzled, shaking in your hands as you hover over him. Searching for wounds that are mostly healed. 

"Blade, I said, are you hurt?" You ask, voice strained, bent at the waist while examining a slice in his pants. A lance had torn his calve wide open. It has already healed. 

"I'm fine." 

"Sure." You don't sound convinced, frowning. "You look like shit. Am I really supposed to believe that?" 

"I have already healed. my injuries are no longer a concern." 

"... Really?" 

"I am an abomination of Yaoshi. This is my nature." 

You already know this, yet you look defeated. Your jaw is tight. "Uh-huh. Alright. Fuck, do you feel alright?" 

"I'm fine. I need to be clean." 

"... Alright?" 

"I need to bathe." 

"... I see that... Do you want me to call Kafka?" 

"She's off ship." 

"Oh, fuck." you curse and shake your head. "I-is she going to be back soon?" 

"No. Help me instead." 

"M-me?" Your voice trembles and you take a fearful step back. Ever the skittish thing. something in him— sort of him— vibrates. 

"Yes." 

"Can you— not?" 

"It's cumbersome to wash on my own." 

"I see." You run a hand over your cheeks and adjust the wide collar of your shirt. It’s too big. It’s one of his— probably? A sleep shirt. One that Kafka stole from him to give to you. He knows you own several. "Alright. Okay. Fine. Fuck, I-I can help." 

You shoo him into your bathroom. 

You turn away from him almost immediately, poking around in a cabinet, plucking brightly colored products and muttering under your breath. Kafka mentioned that isolation is getting to you more than you think. She thinks it's cute. 

Blade wordlessly begins to strip. First off is his blood-soaked overcoat, shredded around his ribs and with massive gouges taken out of the back. Then his undershirt. Followed by his pants. One of his belts rings a metallic clink as he undoes it. 

You choose this moment to turn around and your eyes go wide. 

"BLADE!" You cover your eyes, dropping a bottle. "What are you— you can't just do that." 

"Do what?" 

"Get... naked?" 

"You are going to help me bathe. This is necessary." 

"I understand that." You sound exasperated. Your voice is shaky. The tone is pulling something in the back of his mind. The corners of his lips almost want to curl upwards. "But you can't just strip without warning. Aeons, have some manners." 

Blade nearly laughs— good-naturedly. The urge to is something dormant and poisonous. Seldom used. Usually it's a sharp impulse, but it's almost warm now. Tepid and pleasant.  

(All for you.) 

You cover your eyes as you fumble to turn on the tap, "At least go rinse off a little in the shower first, please?" 

Doable, albeit difficult. Blade grunts something akin to an affirmative and finds your shower. He turns the water on (hot or cold doesn't seem... relevant) and steps in. The spray pours down from the ceiling, sending the worst of the gore down the drain. 

Blade does not move for quite some time.  

"Blade?" you ask warily. "You... done in there?" 

It takes him a moment to reply. The cold spray lags him, "Yes." 

"... Can you come out? The bath is ready." 

He idles, thinking about your question. The softness of your voice. The candle that he can smell, lit on the countertop. You yourself, dressed in soft lounge clothes and covered in scars that strangers gave you. He thinks about the way skin and muscle rend under his blade. The way yours could. Under him. Under— 

"Blade." 

You open the glass shower door, worry-eyed. 

He blinks at you. 

Gently, you grab his arm. He flinches with it. Has half a mind to slam you into the tile until you pop like an perfectly ripe fruit— 

But he doesn't. 

"C’mon, bath time," you coax him out, dripping, careful to not look down. It’s a preservation of modesty. It feels useless, Blade thinks, as he pulls away to clamor into the bath. 

... There are bubbles. Fragrant and herbal, with a soft oil shimmering on the top of the water. It is the perfect temperature. It feels... good. He forgets how nice warmth is. He softens. You heave out a sigh and settle next to him, outside the bath. There's a dampened washcloth, already in your hand. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?" You ask. 

"I don't care." 

"Give me a yes or a no,” you press him, glaring a little. You roll up your sleeves and rise to your knees. 

"Yes, then." He does not care. Do you not understand? 

(You probably don't. You definitely don't.) 

Your expression is unreadable as you dunk the rag into the bathwater and begin to wash him. First his right arm, then his left. Gently rubbing him down, taking extra care with his hands. The rag is gentle over his stiff fingers. You check under each of his nails individually. 

You’re meticulous. 

You ask a question or two about how he washes himself, specifically his hair, but Blade can't give you answers. Kafka stocks his bathroom. His bottles are numbered, and he never deviates from their preassigned order. It is easier that way. Even in Kafka’s tub, she tends to use the same order of expensive-looking products that she favors.  

The treatment you’re currently giving him is not routine.  

The ends of your sleeves dip into the water as you stretch over the tub, toward his legs. Your tongue peaks out from your lips, bitten in concentration. (It’s cute.) Blade feels... compelled to assist you. He raises his leg up at the knee. Just as carefully, you scrub him down, and then focus on his other leg.  

The experience fills him with a sense of unease.  

(It’s too tender.) 

(You treat him too delicately. Even Kafka acknowledges the damage he carries, and her touch is only gentle to punctuate a roughness later on. She toys with him— it’s a farce. The way you touch him is too kind. You are too kind for him. It reminds him— makes him feel the ghost of a touch from hands more delicate and powerful than your own. From a different lifetime, blotted by Mara, corrupted and molten in his mind—) 

“Blade—?” Your voice is shaking, shattering. You’re frozen at the side of the tub.  

Blade blinks. 

He has his hand wrapped around your wrist; his grip swallowing the fragile limb. The force of it is bruising. He holds it under the water, forcing you to lean over the tub. You are submerged up to your elbow. Your expression is pinched, afraid. Your pupils pinpricked.  

An animal snared. 

His grip tightens.  

“Let go, please.” You ask, lip wobbling.  

He does not want to let go. He really does not want to let go. Blade cannot trace the feeling, it’s miasmatic. It was a bad idea to have you assist in bathing him. Mara webs itself behind his eyes. His jaw locks and breathes hard through his nose. He wants to sink his teeth into your throat. 

“Please, stop,” You whine— whimper while tugging against his hold. You are half bent over the bath. Your eyes water, all shiny.  

The tone does something to him. Many people plead around him— for their life, mercy, favor. It’s useless. He does not care. He has no reason to care. There are scripts to follow. However— there’s no script here. Just the warm suds, the blood pumping through your veins, and Blade’s tunneling vision. 

With a sharp pull, he drags you into the bath. 

You fall in headfirst. Instantly, you clamor at the side of the tub and his submerged legs to get yourself back above water. You scramble. It’s— cute. Your hair is slicked down around your face and forehead, eyes wide as you pant. His legs bracket your body. He tightens his thighs around you.  

Your thin clothes are soaked and cling to you. Fabric over curves and folds over your flesh. Blade’s half-hard and feels bad about it. 

(He can’t trace why. It’s far from the first time he’s been physically aroused in relation to you. It always makes him feel bad. Not with Mara, but something personal and sour and less mad. He hates it. He’s almost torn out a rib over the feeling.) 

You hover, frozen, between his legs. The only sounds in the bathroom are your panting breaths and the drips rolling off your body, into the bathwater. You swallow, trembling, but remaining otherwise unmoving. It occurs to Blade after a few tense moments that you are waiting for him to strike.  

Always like a little, frightened animal.  

(Something in him writhes.) 

He moves quickly, shooting a hand out to fist into your hair. His grip is unyielding, giving you no slack (though, he doesn’t yank and pull as he could. He could tear out chunks if he wanted. He just doesn’t want you to move.) He wants you closer— maybe. He wants you far away, thrown through one of the ship's thick windows and into the vacuum of space and dead. 

(Though, it wouldn’t be as satisfying for the void of space to kill you. He’d rather do it. He wants to do it, if you’re going to die.) 

You whine and paw at his wrists, babbling something.  

Blade feels disgusting as he drags your body to his, his chest to your back, and he curls over your form. His arms wind around your waist and squeeze. You scratch at him, beg maybe— he can’t tell, his ears are ringing. Your fists that slam into his shoulders and skull feel like swats from a declawed kitten. He doesn’t budge despite your protests.  

You stop fighting when you realize he isn’t hurting you. 

Blade doesn’t... want to hurt you. He thinks. Not really. Not in the way that Mara is screaming at him to. He isn’t content, you’re too warm and too alive to be this close to his body, but it's not bad. Contact both scratches an itch under his skin and aggravates a wound. It’s like a bath with Kafka, but worse— 

(Because part of him wants this.) 

Blade flinches when you go slack against him, chest heaving out breath. Even this little ‘scrap’ has tired you out. You’ve become weakened in your confined state— even if you really wanted to fight him, you don’t have the physical strength to be able to. 

You sniffle, covered in soaked clothes and soap suds. 

“Don’t cry.” Blade says without thinking. His voice is shot, dead-pan.  

Trembling, you shake your head, “I w-won’t.” 

It’s a lie. You’re already shaking in his arms. 

It’s— unfair. You’re most used to him, and less wary of him than Kafka. Part of him, a loud but small part of his mind, thinks that a bath together could be enjoyable— if he wasn’t washing blood and filth from his hair, and you weren’t shivering in your soaked day clothes. 

(‘This could be nice’, it urges.)  

His hands rub over your sides in small circles at the idea. 

You gasp and squirm, looking back at him with wild eyes, “Blade, please—” 

He stops, but his hold around your waist doesn’t waver. You sigh and lean back into his chest, deflating. Your eyes go half-lidded as you look toward the ceiling. They look— dull. Light and life drained. Like how they did when he and Kafka first collected you from that gilded planet. 

Blade knows that look— a dull mind and an active body. Your breath is still a bit too fast. Your heart is the same, running a prey-like rhythm. He assumes that you have left your body, gone elsewhere. 

“Hey.” He shakes you lightly, dragging you back to the cooling bath. “Help with my hair.” 

“... Hair?” You ask, voice soft and dreamy. “... Do you need me to wash it?” 

“Yes.” 

“... Okay.” You nod after a moment and rotate in his lap.  

Your shoulders sag forward as you fumble for shampoo and squirt a generous amount into your palm. Half of it misses and the gel sinks into the bathwater below.  

It’s unfair— part of him says again— he wants to tear it out and shred it between his teeth or under his blade. It screams that it's unfair that you dote on a creature like him. It’s unfair that you must shiver while lathering and rinsing his hair. That your pretty lips tremble with fear.  

The Mara writhes. He has not been human in so long. He does not deserve the gentleness you so often give him. Especially now, when he has dragged you closer, made you filthy with the stench of blood, and forced you so close. He wants to bite out your throat as you tip forward to grab a brightly colored bottle of oil and begin to work through the knots in his air. 

You are frowning. You are crying. 

He wants to eat you. 

Blade reaches for your chest, studying the way that the fabric clings to your skin-gone-gooseflesh. He finds the top button of your soft blouse in his own unsteady hands and undoes it. You freeze when he does, breath catching. 

You don’t breathe as he undoes another button.  

Then another. 

And another.  

You don’t breathe until the garment is nearly off. Just one button secures the fabric. He can see the peak of your breasts under the fabric, nipples pebbled in the cold. You’re so cold.  

(Blade wishes, dead Yingxing wishes, that he were warmer.) 

Your hand shoots out and wraps around his wrist, and in a small voice, you beg, “Please, d-don’t.” 

“You’re cold.” Blade says. He reaches past you, sloshing water, to turn on the spigot for hot water. “You will stay cold if you wear wet clothes.” 

You look at him strangely. At first, it’s wounded. Like you’ve been lanced through with Shard Sword, and now bear the gaping wound. It morphs to one of confusion, then you bite your lip. And grab his hands in your own and stare at them. 

“... That’s all?” You ask. 

“Mostly.” Blade replies. There’s— more. Far more. But nothing that is concrete enough, or important enough, to share with you. It would more than likely aggravate his spitting Mara.  

“Okay.” You reply, looking up from your joined hands. Your eyes are round and watery. “You’re not trying to rape me?” 

He freezes.  

The word ‘rape’ pulls something disgusting and festering up from Blade’s guts. Something he wants to purge. He has the distinct urge to lean over the side of the time and vomit, but he hasn’t eaten in the last forty-eight hours, so there’s nothing to heave up. So instead, he is still.  

It’s like he can feel the rot. He’s not sure why. He knows what the word means, he is pretty sure he has been raped. Probably. Either when he was a young child, a refugee fleeing a massacred world, or maybe when he was the bedmate to a dragon. Maybe, probably, from Kafka, any number of times. Maybe last week. His mind is cloudy.  

What constitutes rape is foggy.  

He knows it would mean that he wants to have sex with you, and you wouldn’t want to have sex with him. 

And Blade— 

(He— He— doesn’t want to have sex with you? Or he does. Maybe. He wants to be close to you, inside you. He wants to curl around you and make you swear to never leave. He wants— he wants so much. Blade is selfish. But—) 

Not like that, he doesn’t think. Others have been, he’s sure— he’s sure.  

Mara pours into his mind, and he remembers then. Pieces of times, fragments of old memories, of rape. Of violation of all kinds.  

(At the hands of borisins holding him down as he screamed and cried, his body too little to do any fighting in the jaws of an Abundance beast.) 

(A tradesman who allowed him to stowaway on a cargo ship, destined for the Luofu. ‘Payment’ — the man had called it. For safe passage and a little sack of rice.) 

(Dan Feng, during one of his draconic ruts. He was the Child of a Cosmic Horror, ultimately. That’s all Aeons are, anyways. Yingxing had been split on his cock so many times, so full, he bled for a day, even with Dan Feng fussing over him with his cloudhymns, lucid-in-mind and torn apart by so much guilt for a wildly proud man.) 

(Kafka, a few days after she first picked him up from the surface of the asteroid Jingliu had been beating him into. Kafka, a few weeks after that— in a hotel that stank of blue emory roses. Kafka, a few weeks ago, draped over his shoulders between missions. There’s more. Memories drenched in the smell of her rich perfume. They tangle in feelings of comfort and revulsion.) 

Blade doesn’t want to do any of that to you. 

(He wants something with you— but—) 

(Not like that. He doesn’t want you to hurt.) 

“I’m not going to rape you.” He tells you. He hardly sounds like himself as the Mara quiets. 

He thumbs over your lips. There’s a scar in the middle of them where they had been split, repeatedly, and then healed over. You’d told him once that one of your old keepers used to deprive you of water if he felt like it. Your breath is hot against his fingertip. 

You say nothing, but your breath is still fast and shaky. Your eyes are wide. A feral, wild animal.  

“I’m not.” Blade tries to reassure you. You flinch with the sound of his voice. “You’re freezing. The bath can be refilled with warm water. Bathe.” 

Tears break over your lower lashes as you stare at him. He stares back. 

(He wonders what you’re thinking. If you have as much trouble thinking as he does— you probably do. You’ve sustained head trauma. Traumas. You’re both torn-up wrecks, maybe. It could provide him with some solace.) 

“... Okay.” You rub your eyes with balled up hands and laugh. “Okay.” 

Blade then helps you peel off your shirt. Then your shorts and underwear. When you’re bare, Blade drains most of the water from the, leaving you both with a layer of clinging bubbles protecting the barest bits of your modesty. You cover your chest and center with your hands, keeping your head down. Hiding your throat. 

He refills the tub with more soap— too much probably. Mountains of bubbles appear as he dumps in a glug of shimmering, emerald-colored oil. It swirls into the water as it rises. You relax as it rises over your chest. Your eyelids droop. You look so tired. 

Blade washes you like you did him.  

You face each other as he does. Your gaze never leaves him, though it goes glassy again. Unfocused. Blade can feel your heartbeat through your skin, slowing more and more with each pass of the warm, soapy rag he is using. He massages products into your hair. He thinks that he may be doing so in the correct order. He hopes he is. 

This close, he can see all of you. Most of you. Feel you too. He feels ridges and bumps of scars. Chunks of flesh that have been torn from you, replaced by cicatrix, uneven and unnatural under his touch. You shudder when he touches you, shivering despite the heat of the room. You’re sensitive. He doesn’t want Kafka to know. 

You feel different like this. Blade is unable to place why. 

When he is through with you, steam and bubbles still rising from the bath, you drag him closer. Your fingers dig into his biceps, latching on and scrambling to get closer. 

“... You really mean it, don’t you?” You ask. Your eyes are still unfocused. “You’re not going to? You’re not fucking with me?” 

“... What are you talking about?”  

An unrestrained smile stretches over your face, “You do mean it. You do. You do.” 

Blade can only guess what you mean. You clearly will not (or cannot) tell him. You shiver against a full body thing against him. It makes him uneasy. He flips you by the hips, so that your back is to his chest, and he can curl over your shoulders. He cast a shadow into the water. 

Indulgently, he presses his nose into your cheek. You smell like fresh soap and skin. He thinks if he licked you, you’d taste like salt. 

He doesn’t. 

When that’s all he does, you laugh.  

It’s a belting thing, the kind of sound that’s punched from your gut with the same force that could break ribs. Blade can imagine the sound and sensation of it obliterating your insides as your laughter bounces around the tile of the bathroom. It’s manic. It’s an unwell sound. You clutch a fist over your chest as you howl.  

You don’t stop for a while. 

It’s clearly too much. Blade can feel it. The sound echoes in his chest. It must be shredding yours.  

His arm wraps around your midsection as you do, and he tries to press you closer— he thinks. He thinks it might help. Your breath starts to shake, each inhale pitching high and sharp. You’re hyperventilating around your laughter. You’re hysterical, but don’t fight his hold. Even as tears drip down your cheeks, splattering into the bathwater. 

Blade says your name— it should come out sharply. He means it to. 

However, it is gentle. His voice is hushed and rough. 

“You’re alright.” He squeezes you until the breath is forced from your lungs, and there’s no fuel for your laughter anymore. “You’re okay.” 

With a choked, quiet sob, you reply, “I know.” 

... 

It’s later— much later. Maybe the next day.  

Your room still doesn’t have any way to keep time other than your little tablet, which has been powered off and charges across the room on top of your dresser, so Blade can only guess. 

He lays beside you in bed, propped up on an elbow. You sleep next time to him, relaxed and soft-jawed. The soft duvet is pulled up to your collarbones, and you curl into Blade. He’s— warmer than the rest of your room. Even if he does run too cold to be properly alive.  

He runs the side of his index finger over your face.  

You had been so tired after leaving the bath, you’d hardly been able to dress yourself— you hadn’t been able to. Blade to pick out sleep clothes and help you get into them. He chose whatever he could find that seemed. Soft. 

(A flowing, soft teal top and white shorts with golden thread sewn in the seams.) 

You fell asleep quickly after that and have been ever since. Blade had only meant to sit on the edge of your mattress.  

That did not happen. 

Instead, he’s tucked next to you. One of your hands fists the front of his shirt, and your body is angled toward him. Seeking. Wanting. 

Blade could take. 

He recognizes that. 

It’s a thought, though, not a temptation. Not after the bath. Not after feeling the ways in which your body has been torn apart and so painstakingly put itself back together. You are not a creature of Abundance, you are not built to live forever and to repair yourself endlessly like he is. Your vitality is finite. Every scar your flesh must restitch takes something from you and it will not be replaced.  

You will end. 

Your bedroom door clicks, five times, then opens with a whoosh of air. Kafka stands in the doorframe. A sickly-sweet smile stains her mouth. Her lipstick is the is freshly applied and glossy. 

“I see you got all cleaned up, Bladie,” her voice is silken and smooth. He could drown in it. “Was our little pup helpful?” 

“... Yes.” 

“Good.” Kafka hums. Her heels click against the floor, and she takes a place next to you. Even as the mattress dips, you don’t stir. “You’re so helpful with training them. Good boy.” 

Blade pauses his petting of you to glare and grunt at Kafka. She looks delighted. 

“I wasn’t aware I was assisting with any sort of training.” 

“It’s all implicit. As long as they’re getting comfortable, that’s what counts. Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything else.” 

Blade doesn’t like that answer.  

“I don’t want to see them hurt,” Blade says. 

“That’s sweet of you.” 

“I mean it, Kafka.” 

“I know, I know.” Kafka laughs. She sighs and falls into the bed, over the cushy duvet. She spoons you, flattening herself to your back and winding her arms around your waist. Your brow wrinkles and a little whimper scratches from your throat. “I’d like to see our new puppy kept in one piece too, Bladie. I’ve grown quite fond of them. However, we are both beholden to Destiny. If one of Elio’s scripts—” 

“I know.” Blade snaps. 

He does not want to think about it. 

His hand that had been petting you winds tightly into your hair and your face scrunches up.  

“Listen, Bladie, everything’s alright. You’re okay.” Kafka soothes, dropping a kiss onto your cheek. It leaves a smear. Kafka works Blade’s hand out of your hair. “Be good and keep them company while I give Elio a mission report.” 

“That’s what I have been doing.” 

“Then, keep it up.” 

Kafka rolls out of bed with a sigh, not a hair out of place. She leaves the room almost soundlessly, the door clicking as it relocks. Five times. 

Blade does as Kafka says. He keeps you company, sinking down into the mattress beside you. He wipes away the lipstick left over your cheek and presses a kiss to the spot. He lingers there.  

Kafka can have— a lot of him. But, perhaps, he will covet you, all for himself.  

(If the Mara in his mind had not been suppressed, perhaps he would have heard: 

(FOOL FOOL FOOL! DO YOU NOT REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU COVET AND CLING? DO NOT FORGET YOUR SINS! DO NOT FORGET HIS SINS—!) 

Instead, his mind is quiet. He pulls you closer and sleeps. Space is dead around him, and you are dead to the world in his undying arms. 

Blade thinks he likes when you bathe with him.  

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BILLIE EILISH'S HIT ME HARD AND SOFT *  assorted lines from the album, some slightly adapted, adjust as necessary

baby, i think you were made for me.

i wish you the best for the rest of your life.

i need to confess, i told you a lie.

you were the love of my life.

i can't fall in love with you.

i see the way you want me.

i gotta be careful, gotta watch what i say.

god, i hope it all goes away.

did i break your heart?

you're just so sweet.

i don't need to breathe when you look at me.

keep it brief.

you seem so paranoid.

if this is how i die, that's all right.

open up the door for me.

i just want you to touch me.

i've never paid this much attention to you, ever.

i want you to stay.

i'll love you 'til the day i die.

i want you to see how you look to me.

you're so full of shit.

if you go, i'm going too.

we should stick together.

did you take my love away from me?

i never did you wrong.

fell in love for the first time with a friend.

it's a good time.

you told me it was war.

if it's forever, it's even better.

i don't know what i'm crying for.

call me when you're there.

i bought you something rare.

it's a craving, not a crush.

people say i look happy.

the old me is still me and maybe the real me.

i think she's pretty.

can you open up the door?

am i acting my age now?

i'll run a shower for you like you want.

if i'm allowed, i'll help you take them off.

bring that over here.

i need to be alone now, i'm taking a break.

am i already on the way out?

when i step off the stage, i'm a bird in a cage.

you said i was your secret.

the internet is hungry for the meanest kind of funny.

do you still cry?

i loved you for so long.

i could eat that girl for lunch.

tastes like she might be the one.

i don't know why i called.

i don't know you at all.

i could never get enough.

you need a seat? i'll volunteer.

i'm interested in more than just being your friend.

do you know how to bend?

when i come back around, will i know what to say?

there's a part of me that recognizes you.

do you feel it, too?

when you told me it was serious, were you serious?

they tell me it's all been a trap.

no, don't say that.

did i waste your time?

i tried to be there for you.

you said you'd never fall in love again because of me.

i love you, don't act so surprised.

things fall apart and time breaks your heart.

i wasn't there, but i know.

you don't need to remind me.

i should put it all behind me, shouldn't i?

did i cross the line?

good things don't last.

life moves so fast.

every time you touch me, i just wonder how she felt.

i know you didn't mean to hurt me, so i kept it to myself.

i'm trying my best to keep you satisfied.

you don't wanna know how alone i've been.

we don't have to fight when it's not worth fighting for.

you don't wanna know what i would've done.

i loved you and i still do.

just wanted passion from you.

it's not my fault, i did what i could.

you made it so hard like i knew you would.

after i left, it was obvious.

we're so glad it's over now.

say you miss me.

don't be afraid of me.

please don't call the cops.

bet i could change your life.

i tried to save you, but i failed.

i hope you'll read it this time.

i left a calling card so they would know that it was me.

i memorized your number.

if something happens to him, you can bet that it was me.

i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you.

i thought we were the same.

he never learned to sympathize with anyone.

i don't blame you, but i can't change you.

it's over now.