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[packingboxin]

[bubblewrapjogja]

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[bi-writes]

simon’s reactions to mail order bride finding another cat and bringing it home

mail-order bride

there's a ruckus outside. clattering inside of the rubbish bins, rattling the metal of them. and maybe it could've just been a wild animal, something tearing apart the garbage bags and making a mess, but then there were a few cries, squeaks of terror that were too unnerving to ignore. a cry of distress that wouldn't allow for a good night's rest.

simon throws the back door open. there's a few soldiers milling about, leaning against the outside of the mess hall and barracks as they have a smoke or play some cards. some of them are playing games under the lights, kicking around footballs for a laugh. but he hears it, right around the corner, little eeps and have his neck craning as he turns into the alleyway behind his office.

there's a set of bins there that reek. but he can see the rustle of plastic moving, and when he picks up the top bag and clicks his flashlight on, he's met with fierce hisses of a little orange tabby kitten, with red around her eyes and oil sticking to her fur.

"fuckin' christ," simon mutters, sucking on his teeth. he doesn't know why he's out here. normally, the sounds of it wouldn't even force him to blink twice, but he couldn't help himself, he had to follow it. he looks over his shoulder for a moment, debating, but his mind is already made up.

he thinks of you. his pretty little wife, probably curled up on the couch at home with your candles lit and something warm in the oven. the cat is probably snoozing on one of her shelves, one of her arms hanging over the edge and her little face squished into the cushions he had installed on top of them recently. he thinks of your pretty face and your glowing smile, and he hears your voice in his head as he looks back down into the bin and makes eye contact with the mangy little thing again.

he reaches down and grabs it by the scruff of its neck, lifting it up. her little paws spread, showing her tiny claws, and he sighs, holding it out in front of him as he makes his way back to the barracks.

"what in the living fuck is that, LT?" a bubbly voice laughs. simon continues to hold the kitten out at arms length, his boots heavy as he heads towards the washrooms.

"wot the fuck does it look like, sergeant?" simon snaps. johnny picks up his pace so he can walk beside him, laughing as he smacks simon the back of his vest. simon pushes the door open, dropping the kitten into the sink.

it continues to cry and yip at him. he turns the water on, reaching over for a bottle of dish soap and squeezing it until it splatters against the kitten's back. johnny watches from the doorway as simon tries to scrub the little thing clean, cursing at it all the way as he tries to get all the gunk off of it.

"stop fuckin' squirmin'," simon huffs. "ow! oi! ya lil' shit!"

when simon turns the water off, the kitten is shaking in the sink. simon looks around for something to dry it with, and when he finds nothing, he turns to look at johnny.

"give me your shirt," simon demands. johnny stands up straight.

"what?"

"did i fuckin' stutter? give me y'r bloody shirt, sergeant."

"but! but tha's--"

"an order," simon barks. "give it ta me."

johnny rolls his eyes, gripping his shirt from the back collar and pulling it over his head before tossing it at his lieutenant. simon catches it, picking up the kitten and wrapping it in johnny's shirt before tucking it into the crook of his arm.

"'m goin' 'ome. tell price i'll be back in a few days."

"y'r goin' home? it's late, and we--"

"goodnight, johnny."

you jolt awake when you hear the front door. you rub your eyes, sitting up in bed, but you relax a little when you hear the sound of simon's boots in the living room dropping by the door. you get out of bed, putting your slippers on. when you flick the lamp on, simon is standing in the doorway of the bedroom, in full gear and his skull mask as he looms there, his head nearly hitting the top of the threshold.

"simon?" you croak softly. "i...i thought you weren't gonna be home for a few days."

he's holding something, a ball of bundled-up fabric, and you sniffle as you come closer.

"what is it?" you ask. "is something wrong?"

and then you hear it. the softest little chirp, a squeak coming from his arms. you lean over a little, reaching over and pulling back the fabric, and you let out a little gasp as you see two little yellow eyes blinking up at you, surrounded by tuffs of wet and wild orange fur.

"oh! simon!" you breathe, putting a hand to your chest. "wha...w-what--"

"was in the rubbish," simon mutters, clearing his throat. "i couldn't..."

you look up at him. you can only see his eyes, dark with eye-black smudged save for his blonde lashes, and you soften when you see the way he's looking down. he's frowning, but you know he isn't upset. simon cares, more than he'd like to admit, and you reach up with one delicate hand and touch the skull gently, stroking the cheek of it.

"i know," you say softly, smiling up at him. simon sighs, a little shakily, you notice, and you pass your thumb over where his lips would be before taking the bundle from his arms. you hear what simon doesn't say, understand what he's having difficult accepting, the things that aren't possible for him anymore, the things he has to do to keep himself sane now that there's a voice in his head that always sounds just like yours.

helpless, sweet little kitten, with claws like knives and a temper unlike that of simon's. the thoughts that went through his head, you know them, even if he doesn't tell you. when he saw this little thing, when he saw those big eyes.

i couldn't leave her behind.

no. he couldn't.

[empresskylo]

can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.

featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro

⊹ cod men x gn!reader

[ warnings ] domestic violence implications

cod masterlist

Ghost

He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower. 

“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level. 

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you. 

You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.

A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.

“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.

You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed. 

“Who?” He asked sharply.

You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.

“ Who… ?” You repeated.

“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him. 

“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”

“Ghost, please.”

He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.

You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down. 

Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.  

Price

You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”

He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly. 

You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with. 

Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower. 

His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance. 

His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”

“John, I–”

He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”

A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body. 

You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”

Soap

“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day. 

“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile. 

He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!” 

He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure. 

“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice. 

“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes. 

Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile. 

“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.

Gaz

Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you. 

“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled. 

“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.  

“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face. 

Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.

“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes. 

“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders. 

“Hey,” he said calmly. 

You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.

“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”

“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair. 

You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go. 

König

He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.

He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did. 

He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions. 

Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.

“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse. 

“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little. 

He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig. 

Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively. 

“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair. 

You nodded. “M’sorry.”

He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek. 

“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him. 

“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig. 

Alejandro

“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted. 

“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad. 

He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear. 

Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear. 

“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”

Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?” 

You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”

He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”

You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling. 

[glossysoap]

What are your thoughts on showering with the 141 boys? Those massive lads just towering over you, all slick skin and soapy bubbles. Who would be the most into getting freaky instead of getting clean? I can just imagine taking three times as long in the shower because you need to get dirty first before you can get clean when you're in there with Soap!

my mind instantly went to dubcon 😭 to answer your question, i think soap would be the horniest rat (still gross don’t get me wrong) but like always i think price has first pick. first taste. the captain always pulls rank for whatever sweet cunt he has his eyes on.

tw 18+, afab and fem reader, dubcon/noncon. groping. use filtered content and not just filtered tags.

“come on, lass. don’t hide yer tits.”

you’re just stuffed in the middle of the 4 big, hairy, hung men.

you try and cover yourself up, you’re even desperate enough to use suds to cover your tits. not that that would stop any of them from groping your tits to their hearts content.

at least one of them would pull something like “oh, i’m just rinsing you off, doll. quit your whining.” that screams kyle actually.

doesn’t matter what any of them say, what excuse they casually murmur (if they even do that), their hands are gonna be lingering and their fingers will be toying with your nipples. when your nipples harden to a peak, they’ll all laugh and mock you for “being cold”.

maybe you’re lucky enough to have a bush?

though that just lures your captain’s perverted gaze even more. you know he’s weak for it. he’d make some offhand comment like “knew you’d have a good bush.” sooo gross. and he’s saying it all while he’s leaning in close to your ear, his beard brushing up against your neck. his cock brushes up against your ass.

they’d be saying shit like this the whole time.

“yeah, yeah. keep trying to cover yourself up.” kyle. it’s said with a roll of his eyes, such a switch from the warm and welcoming personality you’ve grown used to.

“look at yer tits bonnie, just cannae keep my hands of em. ye should be grateful ah haven’t fucked em while yer sleepin.” soap. you shiver even more, the biting cold of the water long forgotten, thinking of all the times he’s forced you to bunk with him.

“fuck her, cap. y’ know her cunts just beggin for it.” ghost. so cruel and booming, leaning against the shower wall as his hands fisting his cock just like the rest of them.

the rest of them are watching the whole thing, watching their captain take first pick. jerking off as they watch their captain press you against the tile wall and force his cock inside your already slick cunt. your own juices and his seed soon meddle with the suds trailing along your thighs.

your reluctant moans bounce off the shower walls as the captain bottoms out every time, his strong arms wrapped around you to keep you from squirming.

the three other men reach out and grope your tits and spank your ass all throughout price breaking you in. while one of their hands work on squeezing your tit, their other hand is still jerking themselves off.

when they quickly cum, price doesn’t need to tell them twice in order for them to let their seed spurt all over you. doesn’t matter if theirs goes to waste as it’s splattered across your skin. price’s spend wouldn’t be going to waste as it’s filling you up, claiming your cunt from the inside.

[angelltheninth]

Bolin with a Praise Kink

Pairing: Bolin x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, praise kink, big cock, dom to sub Bolin, Bolin is a cinnamon roll

A/N: This was a request on my old blog and I wanted to write it out here.

"Oof." You groan as your body is slammed on the couch in the tiny living room of Bolin's appartment. He just got out of Pro-Bending practice and still has pleanty of energy to spare as evident by him scooping you up in his arms with easy.

"Got you right where I want you." He kissed against your jaw as he climbed in top of you, his knees pushing your legs apart to make room for his bulky frame. You wrapped your arms around his neck to encourage deeper strokes, longer, but also rougher. Bolin was gentle, aware of his streangth, his build and how easily your smaller size could be dwarfed by him. But when he made love to you he wanted to make you feel every inch of his fat cock.

You didn't mind that he used his muscles and size to his advantage. Quite the opposite. Your cunt squeezed and squelched around his dick, back arching upwards, moans bouncing off the walls to let him know how much you enjoyed it.

"So good... focus on... right there...! Yes, that's a good boy." Bolin's cock gave a needy pulse in your pussy, his hips rocking the couch forward. "You like that?"

He mumbled inconherant words before burying his head between your tits. "Could you... say that again?" His question didn't come without inscentive. The couch cushins potested under his cock being thrust deep. "Need to fucus here. This spot here." As if he didn't know how to make you feel good he asked for your approval.

Big green eyes pleaded, his lips opening and closing every time your cunt clenched around him.

"You already know but if you need to hear it..." The bubbly earthbender nodded, stomach clenching in anticipation. "...Bo, you know how good your dick feels? I can't stop thinking about it. About... you... fucking me after every match... needing me to take your cock like this..." Heat pooled at the pit of your stomach. Bolin hugged you close, urging you to keep talking. "You want to fill me don't you? Yeah, do it. Be a good boy, Bo, give me your cock, I want you to shove it in deep, open my pussy up like only you can."

Bolin groaned as he bottomed out over and over, his cock pulsing within you. Your tight pussy clenched around him, trying to keep him in there. Although you had a tendency to leave marks on him he didn't care, even if his team saw them. Small price to pay to feel your hot, sloppy hole tighten around him and your voice interrupted with constant moans as you came.

[sinning-23]

To Breathe Underwater (Luffy x Mermaid!Reader)

Okay yall this is the first of many in a mermaid/siren series I decided to WRITE LIKE AN IDIOT LOL sorey I fell off and haven’t been active I feel like I’m going to crumble- like a strong breeze could take me outta this point.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Water fills his lungs are he struggles against the still waters. This was the price to pay for his abilities. the ocean consuming him, weighing him down, pulling him into her cold embrace. It burns his nose and throat as he cough the last of his air into bubbles.

His eyes are begingin to close as he falls unconscious, flashes of light swirl around him. Though muffled from the water, he can hear what sounds like metal pieces clinking quietly. Warmth envelops him, arms wrapped around his body as he's pulled up.

What was this...Who was this. He forced his eyes open, the water making it a blurry sight but, it was definitely a who. And a very pretty who at that.

They were calm, eyes scanning his rapidly as her webbed fingers and iridescent hands twinkled in the light. She hold his face, his consciousness fading faster then ever, and with a single connection to lips she preaches air into him, swapping the water that filled with lungs for oxygen. Again and again and again, she breathes into him, slowly but surely swimming him up to the surface, to shore.

_____________

You can’t help but trace his face, the sun making his hair look shinier, and his face so much brighter. You try counting the freckles there, its seemingly impossible. He breaths slow, chest rising and falling and you trace the scar there. You’d never been this close to a human before....they're so delicate.

He coughs, the last remnants of water spilling from his lips as you gasp and flinch back. You can hear voices from afar but you don't move, far too worried about the human in front of you to care. You crawl back to him, pushing the wet hair from his face and cupping his cheeks after. He's missing something...

"Who are you?" His voice is raspy, yet concerned.

You shake your head, looking back to the water to see his hat floating. Bingo! You grab it, and set it over his face, leaning close to his ear before letting your name roll off your glossy lips.

He repeats it, a slow mantra of your name drips off his tongue as you slither back to the water.

"That was a mermaid! Luffy got saved by a mermaid!" Usopp gasps, pulling his captain up with a smile.

Of course, Luffy was still a bit delierous form the deamn near death experience, but he made a note to remember than name so he could properly thank the thing that saved his life.

You.

_6.5 months later_

Winter draws in and your tail was shed for a pair of limbs longer than your arms. It wasn't the first time you'd had this happen and it certainly would be the last. Every winter, a mermaid sheds their tail to seek warmth on land during the cold and snowy months. Then, in spring, when the first few flowers bloom and the tempurature rises, you return to sea.

Now, you were sitting in one of this villages many taverns, well, one of which mermaids like yourself have come for shelter for decades. The current owner had given you a nice room and some fresh clothes for the winter months and in return for giving you that you would provide entertainment.

So there you are, hair flowing over your shoulders, voice ringing sweetly across the space as customers, pirate or otherwise, indulge.

You hadn't realized that the table at the far left of the eatery had been occupied, and one of the guest simply couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You were so...familiar.

"Luffy you look like you’re burning holes through her, calm down. " Nami speaks, a smirk forming over he features seeing her Captains current state.

Luffy wasn’t very well versed in just etiquette but then again you didn’t really need that when you were a pirate. The content of his character was far more important than idk maybe not standing on a rich ladies table and requesting a boat from her.

Anyway, he snaps his gaze away from you and back to Nami. There you were, glittering under this mellow spotlight as your voice carried over sweet, diabetes inducing melodies and his heart can’t help but squeeze.

You’d saved his life, that’s something he’ll never let go, somehow feeling a pinch in debt to you. His eyes trail from the top of your head to the shoes on your feet. Usopp might have an answer for that….

“I swear she was a mermaid when she saved me. Usopp, you know a lot about those things, why is it that she has legs now?” He questions, leaning forward with a wide smile.

The man in question stammers for a moment trying to find the words but before he can even get some outlandish explanation out, the waitress just so happened to cut in.

“This has been a rest spot for mermaid for years. They get legs in the winter to stay warm on land among the people. Then, in spring, they return to sea, we’ll if they do choose. The longer they stay on land, the harder it is to go back to their tails.” She explains, setting down drinks, tucking the tray under her arm.

“Some merfolk opt to stay human and they just, unadapt I suppose. They lose their tails forever.”

Luffy draws back to the stage to realize you’re not there and a panic shoots through him. He grabs the waitresses arm, wondering where you’d gone and she only points to an empty staircase. That’s all it takes for him to jump out his seat and leave his crew behind. He needed to see you. He needed to hear your voice. Feel your hands over his face, tracing his freckles and over his lips.

He wanted his heart to feel as if it somehow spring out his chest when you spoke. Is this what a crush feels like???? He did it know anything about you accept that you’d been kind enough to save him, you were a mermaid, and god were you absolutely beautiful. But, he found himself wanting to know you, and when he wants something, he’s determined to get it.

The light creeking of your door makes you flinch but you turn to see that same man you'd though tof nonstop for the past 6 months. The silence is deafening, your heartbeat ringing n your ears and his does the same.

You swallow dryly, trying to think of something to say but...what is there to say? He steps in, pausing for a moment to search your eyes for protest, but you only encourage it with a step forward.

"You look different when you’re not drowning." You joke poorly, seeing him slile.

"So do you when im not busy trying to breathe underwater.” He laughs, seeing you smile in response.

[wildechildwrites]

Attitude Adjustment

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Light angst, violence

No use of Y/N

Summary: Ghost beats the shit out of you no I will not elaborate

A:N: Ghost's hands are rated E for everyone

AO3 Link: Attitude Adjustment

You're sitting in furious silence during the mission debrief, Gaz and Soap shooting you sympathetic glances that you pointedly ignore, Price's anger filling the room like natural gas, smothering you. Ghost leans against a wall, shadowed and silent. 

Price finally dismisses everyone else with a bark, and you’re left alone with your fuming captain and his silent lieutenant, haunting your peripheral. 

“You ignored a direct order.” Price’s voice is gruff, leaving no room for argument. You know you should apologize, but you can’t stomach it. Not when you saved his goddamn life.

“You think I was just going to let them kill you?” You ask, indignant. Price glares at you.

“I think, corporal, that you ignored a direct order from your commanding officer.” Price’s tone is sharp and dismissive. 

"You put yourself and the rest of your team in danger. You could've been killed. You almost were."

“But sir–” You object, still trying to justify yourself. If he would just listen– Price shoots up from his desk, stabbing a finger towards the door. 

“Don't fucking argue with me," He growls, chest heaving. "Get out."

You stand, stunned, feeling your traitorous tear ducts begin to sting. Ghost has offered nothing, and you catch his cold gaze before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind you. 

You knew you were out of line, had vaulted out of order the moment you ignored Price, the moment you ignored every instinct the military had beaten into you, but it wasn't fair. He would’ve pulled the same stupid bullshit if the situation was reversed. You scrub angrily at your eyes, potent rage bubbling in your chest. He was singling you out on purpose, angry at you for something he would’ve excused had it been anyone else. You turn a corner, stomping down the hallway. 

Soap is lingering near your room, acting far too interested in the leaky ceiling tiles. He spins around to face you when he hears your footsteps, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he can speak.

"Just don’t Johnny.” You snarl, aiming for a biting tone. It comes out as a plea, and the Scotsman gives you a pitying look that just stokes the rage curling in your chest. He steps in front of you, trying to slow your momentum, and you purposefully slam your shoulder into him, ignoring him as he calls after you.

You make a beeline for the gym, heading for a punching bag. Your fingers are numb, and you can’t stop shaking, so you throw yourself at the bag, hurling punch after punch. 

“Price ripped into you good.” Ghost calls out from behind you. You jump, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder in response. You hadn’t heard him come in, unsure of how long he’s been standing there.

“You ripped into him right back.” He observes. His gaze is cold, prickling along your spine. You bite your tongue, landing a hard kick on the bag. 

“Heard you also barked at Johnny.” He adds, as if an afterthought, his tone deceptively casual. You know then that you’re in real trouble. You’d been a bitch to Mactavish, and now Ghost was here to defend his honor. You roll your eyes, giving yourself that small amount of defiance before turning to face him. 

He’s wrapping his hands, standing on the sparring mat closest to you. He cocks his head, eyes flat and expressionless, but the challenge is clear. You're angry enough to take the bait, abandoning your punching bag. 

Ghost wordlessly gets into a fighting stance. You mirror him, waiting for the lecture, and the first blow almost knocks you on your ass.

You’ve sparred with Ghost before, but you don't think he's ever hit you that hard. It's staggering, and you double over slightly. Simon doesn’t give you a second to recuperate, throwing another punch. You barely dodge it, sliding under his arm, aiming for his ribs. You’re sloppy, and he blocks you, adding a shove to throw you off balance. It’s a dirty move, one that pisses you off even more, and you’re back on the defensive, protecting yourself as Simon throws another punch, harder than the first. You block it with more success, then move closer, aiming low. He blocks you again. 

You’re panting, already exhausted from the mission, heat in your cheeks, anger building. Ghost has the advantage, twice your size and fucking mean, and you’re just trying to defend yourself. That’s all you’ve been doing all fucking day, defending yourself from your own goddamn team. 

You kick him hard in the stomach. Ghost seems unaffected, those cold eyes unreadable. You throw another punch, putting all your weight into it, and he grabs your arm, using your momentum against you, flipping you over his shoulder. You slam onto your back on the mat. 

“What the fuck Si-” you snap, and he kicks you in the ribs. You scramble backwards, trying to regain your footing as he advances on you. 

“Price is too relieved that you’re still alive to give you a proper punishment for insubordination.” He says. "I have no such scruples." 

Ghost’s blank expression doesn’t change, not even when he slams his boot into your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto your back again. You glare up at him, your chest heaving.

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“You need to remember who your superiors are,” Ghost continues evenly, ignoring you. 

You go to stand, and he knocks you over once again. You practically snarl at him, shooting out and grabbing his leg. Using his body weight against him, you bring him crashing down onto the floor next to you, then slam your knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Your victory is cut short when Ghost grabs you and flips the two of you over, pinning you to the floor with his body weight. 

“You scared all of us,” he says. His eyes are still flat and cold. “Pull something like that again, I’ll pop your shoulder out of socket.”

You grapple against him, cursing, but he just tightens his grip, pinning your arms. It hurts, your shoulders and ribs screaming, the air being crushed out of your lungs by the weight of the giant man on top of you, but you keep fighting him.

“Get off,” you rasp. Ghost leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Are you done being a brat?” He asks lowly. You manage to twist one of your hands enough to dig your fingernails into his stomach. In response, Ghost grabs your wrist, pulling your arm behind you with enough force to wrench your shoulder. You’re completely immobilized.

It’s all too much. The exhaustion and pain, the anxiety of the mission, the humiliation of being reprimanded, the indignant rage that’s been bubbling inside of you. Everything comes crashing down, tears you’ve been fighting all day suddenly pouring out. You let out an involuntary sob, and Simon lets up, just enough to allow you to breathe, keeping you pinned beneath him as your tears build up steam.

“There’s our girl,” he says, his gravelly voice uncharacteristically soft, almost frayed. It only makes you cry harder, keening wails muffled by the large man on top of you.You're confused at the sudden switch, overwhelmed and disoriented. He rubs comforting circles into your wrist, and you’re falling apart, coming unspooled.

You sob until you run out of tears, your cries trailing off into sniffling, and only then does Ghost let you up. The anxiety and anger is gone, leaving tender exhaustion, the soreness from the fight a tangible sensation, grounding you. 

“I think a hot shower is in order, corporal” Ghost says gently, helping you to your feet. You’re wobbly, trailing after him on unsteady legs as he leads you to the locker room.

He leaves you to it, disappearing back into the gym, and you strip, letting the warm water wash off the rest of the day, standing under the stream until your eyes are drooping. 

To your surprise, Ghost is waiting for you when you get out, eyes closed, head resting against the wall. He looks tired, his dark circles a bruised shade of purple, showing through the half smeared off black paint. He opens his eyes, expression unreadable, and you sit down next to him.

“Apologize to Soap, will ya? He’s gutted. Sensitive, that one,” Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes, but there’s real warmth behind the gruff, dismissive tone of voice. “And the next time you want a lashing, come straight to me instead of stomping about.” 

Heat rises unexpectedly to your face, and you open your mouth to protest. 

Simon holds up a finger, silencing you before you can say anything. 

“Don’t fight me on it, we both know that’s what you needed. Price would've gladly taken you over his knee, but I figured you’d bite our heads clean off at the suggestion."

Your brain short circuits, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you stare at Ghost. He holds your gaze unflinchingly.

“I should, um,” you stutter, stumbling to your feet, “I should go find Soap.” 

You practically run to the doors, and you swear as you step into the hallway you hear quiet laughter, echoing behind you.

[coyote-with-a-keyboard]

birthday suprise!

a/n: I don’t write for price much- but yknow- it’s for my MOOTS BIRTHDAY! HI ALEC! @rodolfoparras this is super late

Minors; don’t interact -FtmPrice in more feminine clothing warning❓

Price, being the meticulous man he always was, had your birthday saved in his mind for months with plans and plans galor, of how he’d spend a whole the whole day treating you to everything from breakfast to dinner- of course not planning to waste a single second away from you

sadly, his job had other plans and he had been deployed the week of without a single warning. He was livid, and apologized more times than he could count when he left, but he still felt guilt bubble up in his gut when he thought of how he had left you. He tried to wrap up the mission as fast as he could- antsy and tired and covered in blood and sweat for most of the week..

he finally arrived home, the very few hours of your birthday fading into the night as he sighed and rested his head in his hands on the plane back. 10, it was 10 at night when he got back to your shared home… he felt utterly horrid- he showered, tossed off his uniform, and laid on the bed with a deep groan, the mattress shifting under his movement which caused you to wake up groggily, soft kisses peppering your jaw and neck, his mutton hips tickling your neck

“.. ‘m sorry, really sorry.” Price mumbled sleepily as he curled up and fell asleep wrapped up right next to you

you woke up to what might be the best morning on this earth, price straddled on your lap, in a pretty lingerie you don’t remember buying in the past- pink and flush against his skin with very little hidden. He kissed you softly, whining and wanting to make you feel as loved as you could. He scooted down a bit, his eyes looking directly up to you as he undid your belt and kissed your tip with a sharp smile ghosting over his lips before he slowly- painfully slowly stretched his lips around your cock and hollowed out his cheeks until his nose was against your pubes. His throat was tightening around you and his lashes got wet with little tears

he looked perfect. Utterly perfect. Whining and holding your hips as he licked up the underside of your member before sliding back down to choke on you, sticky lines of spit and pre sliding out of the corners of his mouth and getting stuck in his muttonchops. He just wanted to make you feel good. He could feel your hands gripping into his hair and bucking up into his throat, and it was an addicting kind of feeling- the slight lack of air and the look on your face making his brain go fuzzy and warm, in all honesty he viewed this just as much a gift to himself as it was a gift to you. He rutted against the bed slightly, his lingerie slick and sticking against him from sweat and his own arousal

all the sensations of pain and pleasure mixing around in his brain and making his nerves jump and electrify, he felt you cumming in his throat, a taste that he swallowed happily, and whined a bit under his breath as he felt you pull away, looking at you with a blissfully mind fucked look, his eyes half shut. He jumped a bit when he felt you tug aside the bottoms of his lingerie, the sensation of two of your fingers sliding into him giving him little time to grasp the sheets for purpose. He bit his lip to hold in some utterly pathetic whines, trying not to squirm while your calloused fingertips curled just right inside of him and your lips met his T-dick, your free hand holding his big burly thighs open to stop him from crushing you head by accident.

his body tensed and his eyes rolled back in his skull as you did your best to please him too, hand moving from his thighs to his hips and up to run through the hair coating over his chest and tattoo covered scars below his pecs, humming all the while. He came quite quick, scooting away from overstimulation and muddled aftershock, letting your head rest on his stomach as his hands ran through your hair.

his late birthday gift to you in all honesty felt more like a gift to himself, but you clearly enjoyed it just as much as he did

[thatfandomslut]

It's Only You

Karen Shetty x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Trigger Warnings: reader experiencing feelings such as jealousy and insecurity & a fluffy ending

Request:

Can you do a Karen Shetty fluff with fem fem reader🥹🥹 with like reader getting jealous because so many girls like Karen which results in Karen showing her sweet, caring and protective side to reader 🤧🤧

Mean Girls requests are open.

Karen Shetty was the kindest girl in the junior class at North Shore High. Not to mention, she was funny and insanely caring. Additionally, she had a brilliant smile, long, wavy dark brown hair, and chocolate-colored eyes that shined brightly when she talked about the things she loved. (Y/n) (L/n) was absolutely in love with Karen. The only problem was, that so was the entire junior class. Of course, this seemed to be the price (Y/n) paid for dating one of the Plastics. Everyone was absolutely in love with all of them, and no matter their relationship status, they would be flirted with.

That was the problem.

(Y/n) felt her eye twitch as she stood beside Karen as Bethany Hughes batted her eyelashes at Karen. Bethany was blatantly ignoring the death glare that (Y/n) was throwing her. The regretful feeling of jealousy was settling in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the brunette. To say that (Y/n) was feeling angry at the situation would be an understatement. However, it was when Bethany's hand landed gently on Karen's arm that (Y/n) finally made a move to get rid of the girl.

"Right," (Y/n) interrupted, causing Bethany to narrow her eyes because now all of Karen's attention was on her girlfriend. (Y/n) plucked the hand of her girlfriend with a sickly sweet smile. "It was nice to see you, Bethany, really, but we have to get going. You understand, don't you? After all, it's not like you would want to hold us up on our way to class, would you?"

Karen noticed how tense (Y/n) was, and she wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's waist. A smile appeared on her lips when she felt her relax a bit against her arm. Karen was always protective over (Y/n). She understood that many people liked her due to her status as a Plastic, but she wanted to make sure that (Y/n) never felt less than. "Bye," Karen waved before looking at Bethany deep in thought. "Sorry, I forgot your name already," Karen admitted before shrugging and leading (Y/n), who now wore a giant smirk, to her class.

Unfortunately, (Y/n) didn't share this class with Karen, though their classes happened to be next door. (Y/n) was already in a sour mood over Bethany's little game when she heard the girls in front of her attempting to whisper. "You don't think Karen and (Y/n) are still together, do you? I was thinking about inviting Karen to go to Shane Omen's party with me." The two glanced back, not so subtly at (Y/n).

(Y/n) was doing her best not to look over at the girls as her cheeks heated up as annoyance bubbled in her chest. "I think they are, but I don't understand why. Karen is kind of out of (Y/n)'s league." This caused her ears to perk up as she stared at the blank paper on her desk. "I just feel like Karen could do so much better than (Y/n). She's not even as pretty as you, so maybe you should ask out Karen. Maybe, you can show her what she's missing out on with (Y/n)." The friend suggested with a shrug. (Y/n) had to swallow the lump in her throat as her eyes glossed over.

Maybe if this wasn't the second attempt to take Karen away from her on the same day or the tenth attempt in the last three days, (Y/n) wouldn't feel this way. (Y/n) took a breath before she realized she couldn't keep herself from crying. So, in an attempt to not cry in front of the class, she stuffed her things in her backpack and rushed out of the room before anyone could see the tear rolling down her cheek. She knew that people would find out if she was crying if she was in the restroom, so instead, she her way to her car.

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel insecure. No matter how beautiful Karen told her she was, it was suddenly trumped by the comment that one person felt she wasn't pretty enough for Karen. (Y/n) didn't realize how much time had passed until her phone buzzed. Karen was wondering where she was. Instead of responding, (Y/n) tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and curled up in the driver's seat. She felt guilty about her action, but right now; she couldn't face Karen. She just needed a moment to herself and to think about the comments of the girls in her class.

However, Karen was staring at her phone in confusion, wondering where (Y/n) could be. Meeting Regina and Gretchen for lunch, the two questioned (Y/n)'s absence. "I have no idea," Karen admitted, her brows knitted together in thought. "She wasn't in her class. I waited for her, but she never came out. When I looked in, though; the classroom was empty." Karen explained as the three headed into the cafeteria.

"Have you checked the restrooms or her car?" Regina raised her brows before glancing at Karen. This caused Karen to grin as she shook her head, excusing herself from the group to search for (Y/n).

(Y/n)'s car happened to be the last place Karen checked, but she was pleased to say she found her girlfriend. However, her smile dropped when she knocked on the window only to see tears streaming down (Y/n)'s cheeks. (Y/n) let Karen into the passenger's side and was met with the girl wrapping her into a tight hug over the center console. (Y/n) cried into her shoulder as Karen held her close, rubbing her back gently. "What happened?" Karen questioned softly.

(Y/n) pulled away, leaning her head on the window. "Everyone loves you, and I don't blame them. I mean, I love you, too. I am in love with you. But I guess I didn't realize I wasn't good enough for you until today. Everyone flirts with you, but I never felt like their flirts meant anything. Still, today, I heard these girls in class talking about you. One of the girls likes you and her friend let her know that you were better than me and that she was prettier than me. I guess I never felt this insecure until they said that." (Y/n) rambled, and realized she probably didn't even make sense.

Karen blinked for a moment as she took in her girlfriend's words. "Sometimes, I think I'm too dumb for you. I understand what you're feeling. I just want you to know that you're good enough, you're more than good enough. I love you, too, and whatever they said isn't right." Karen took (Y/n)'s hand gently as she smiled over at her.

"You're very smart," (Y/n) reminded her. Sure, Karen wasn't great at school and sometimes processed things a bit longer, but she was smart. At least, (Y/n) thought so. "I'm sorry for being so insecure. I guess I needed a reminder of how you felt, so thank you for finding me."

Karen gave her a giant smile, pressing a kiss to (Y/n)'s lips. "Don't worry, I only have eyes for you. It's only you." Karen said softly before kissing away (Y/n)'s tears. (Y/n) smiled at Karen's words, leaning into her touch, grateful for the chance to be with her. In this moment, (Y/n) forgot why she was so insecure. Karen was obviously not into those other girls, and this was something that (Y/n) was now brilliantly aware of.

[bubblewrapjogja]

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[starstruckmiraclekitty]

my friend kicks ass in her sleep (quite literally I have woken with bruises and a foot up my arse) and it’s got me thinking...like the cod men are just so unsuspecting, happily dozing next to their s/o and suddenly they just get absolutely obliterated in the balls..

Lol I am TOTALLY like this in my sleep 😭

141+ König With A Reader Who Beats Them Up In Their Sleep

Warnings: mentions of injury/pain, swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

It was in the wee hours of the morning, and you were feeling incredibly restless. You'd gotten little to no sleep the last few nights and kept waking up extremely hot.

You tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable spot. You peered over at your husband, Simon, who was fast asleep. It was a rare occurrence for you to be awake when he wasn't, so you took the opportunity to watch him for a while. Eventually, sleep finally overcame you once again.

Next to you, Simon was dreaming peacefully. He was dreaming about your future and the small family he'd hoped you'd eventually have. He shifted slightly in his sleep, rolling just a little too close to you. You rolled over quickly, still unconscious, your hand flying out, smacking Simon square in the face.

Simon's eyes flew open as he jolted upright, trying to take in his surroundings. What the hell was that? He heard a snore come from beside him and turned to see your face squished against your pillow, your hand outstretched to where his face was just moments ago.

He rubbed his cheek with a soft chuckle, admiring your sleeping form. He smiled to himself before moving back down to lay beside you. He gently pushed you on your side and pulled you into him as he held your arms firmly in front of you. He'd rather not be slapped awake again, and he wouldn't lie, that slap stung a little.

If you could slap like that, with such force, maybe he didn't have to worry about you being home alone after all.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You were a horribly violent sleeper. This much was true. Johnny had threatened about a half dozen times that he'd wrap you in bubble wrap before letting you lay next to him again (he never did).

The two of you often slept at opposite ends of the bed, mostly to protect Johnny from your unconscious wrath, but always had a small cuddle session before falling asleep.

Unfortunately for Johnny, the two of you had fallen asleep while cuddling tonight. He had your face tucked in his chest, his arms lazily wrapped around your torso. You started to shift slightly in your sleep, triggering Johnny's eyes to shoot open. He was never a notoriously light sleeper, not until you. He went to move out of the way, but he was just a few seconds too late. You bunched your legs up and stretched them out, kicking him in the balls, hard.

"STEAMIN JESUS!" He croaked, his vision turning white from the pain.

Your eyes opened from the commotion, turning to see your boyfriend's face scrunched up in pain, as he was clutching at his crotch. "Johnny?"

"Y....yep. I'm here." He wheezed, his face still contorted.

You bit your lip to prevent a giggle and moved toward Johnny slowly. "I'm so sorry, babe. I couldn't help it."

"Sssure. Yep." He was still barely able to get words out. "Think you destroyed my balls, love."

From that night on, Johnny always made it a point to set an alarm when the two of you were cuddling, making sure he never had this issue again.

Somehow, throughout the night, you had ended up sideways in bed, your feet hovering around your boyfriend's ass. You rolled over in the bed, restless, stretching out your legs rather aggressively, and ended up shoving your foot in John's ass.

John Price-

You and John had a terribly long day, as you both had priorities that dragged on long into the night. The moment the two of you got in home, you collapsed into bed together.

John awoke immediately, nearly howling in pain, his ass hurting like no other. He turned over to see you sprawled out, still out cold. He sat for a moment looking at you. You'd covered nearly every inch of the bed and were splayed out like a star fish, mouth wide open as soft snores emitted from you.

He chuckled to himself before sliding out of bed, massaging the sore spot on his ass. He grabbed some of the pillows, creating a small row of them as he turned your body to face the right way. As he did so, your legs thrashed yet again, nearly kicking him in the balls.

"Yep, fuck this." He laughed quietly, shaking his head at your antics. He still wanted to sleep near you, however, so he grabbed a pillow and blanket and curled up on the floor next to your side of the bed.

Needless to say, it was more than just his ass that hurt the next morning.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

Whenever Kyle had spent the night at your house, you'd always fallen asleep together with you as the big spoon. There were times when you'd grow restless throughout the night, and Kyle would be subjected to various forms of abuse from your unconscious state. Tonight was, unfortunately, one of those nights.

During the night, your feet had come to lay on Kyle's back, resting there softly. You'd started to grow restless in your sleep, tossing and turning moving your legs rapidly. Your legs had done a bicycle kick, straight into Kyle's back, sending him flying off the side of the bed.

He awoke with a yelp as he landed on the floor hard. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, as he took in your now fully strung out form on your queen sized bed.

He laid back on the floor and busted out laughing, causing you to jolt awake. "Ky?"

"You literally kicked me out of bed, babe." He said as he caught his breath.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. I can sleep on the couch, it's fine." You moved to get up but Kyle quickly jumped on top of you.

"Gosh no, babe. I'm not gonna make you do that. We can sleep just like this." He chuckled, spreading his weight evenly on top of you.

You let out a breathy laugh before falling asleep nearly instantly. That night, Kyle found a solution to your little problem, and spent every night since then sleeping on top of you.

König-

It was late into the night when you and your boyfriend König had finally fallen asleep. The two of you had cuddled together long into the night, talking about anything and everything. His arms were tight around your midsection as you slept peacefully on top of him, your head resting on his chest.

You were having a dream about your neighbors huge dog chasing you when you felt into a small pothole in the road. Your body reacted along with the dream, and your knees bunched up quickly, coming to rest on Königs balls rather harshly.

König shot up and yowled in pain, causing you to fly off the side of the bed. "Scheisse!"

His hands flew to cup his balls as he started to whimper. You, now being wide awake from being thrown on the floor, rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes and took in your surroundings.

"Kö?" You asked, peeking your head up over the side of the bed. König let out a whimper in response, still clutching onto his manhood desperately trying to rid himself if the pain.

"Oh, oh gosh, did I do that? I'm so sorry, baby." You jumped up and touched his shoulder softly.

König took a deep breath before mustering the best smile he could for you. "'S okay, Maus. It's not your fault, sweetheart." He croaked. He couldn't be mad at you. You couldn't control what you did in your sleep. That wasn't to say this didn't hurt like hell, though.

He slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead before laying back down onto the bed, a cry escaping his lips.

That night, König had built a pillow wall big enough for you to not be able to reach him over. He lovingly promised he'd cuddle with you in the morning but insisted that for tonight, he needed to "Beschütze seine Eier" (protect his balls).

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

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm trying to post at least one or two requests a day. Thanks for bearing with me🙂🩷

[peachesofteal]

John Price/female reader The Ocean Anthology

You're not overly familiar with wolves.

On the zoology side, you preferred marine animals. As a child, you preferred the aquarium to the zoo, the beach to the park, water instead of land. Something about the sea, floating weightless beneath a tide, modeling your own movements after tail fins and flippers, salt water drying on your skin at the surface.

The wild of the open ocean, unending depths, reaching where light could not touch, soothed something in your heart. It always had.

Which is why, when you looked out your kitchen window into the duplex's shared backyard and saw Aly, seated with criss crossed legs, ten meters from the largest wolf you've ever seen in your life, you screamed.

It was the surprise, twisting your vocal chords into a strangled cry, the shock and fear echoing past the frame of the house and into the gnarled slope, that had Aly turning back to peer at you, had the wolf lowering it's head in what you could only assume was a predatory lean.

"Aly." Your voice trembled when you made it onto the back deck, a hand outstretched, beckoning her back to safety. The wolf inches away, shying from your panic, the scent of your fear souring the breeze. It's stale, and sharp, and your heart thunders in your ears, rapid beat wild in your veins.

She did not even spare you a glance.

"It's okay." She calls over her shoulder. "She'd never hurt me." She? You look around. Where is John?

"Aly. Come inside." Your force yourself steady, pushing authority, what little of it you possess, into the syllables.

And then, a softer plea, from someone who doesn't understand. "Please." The wolf, massive and grey with tinges of orange and brown, watches you, golden, glinting eyes, upper lip curled, revealing devastatingly sharp teeth. It steps away, up into the cover of the trees, drifting into the darkness of the forest, glow of it's face in the morning rays just barely visible.

The little girl sighs, unfolding herself and brushing dirty palms against her coat.

"You scared her." Fogged breath rolls from her mouth, and all you can do is stare, incredulous, as she rolls her eyes and traipses over to her back door, giving you a skeptical look before stepping inside.

What the fuck was that?

You find yourself on a twisted forest path later that night. Unable to sleep, you walk towards the harbor, cutting through a side trail you've seen John on in the mornings, and others, occasionally.

It's just a side trail. Close to the road. You'll be fine.

The woman's warning from your first night at the bar vibrates in your bones.

Skip the shortcuts through the forest at night.

Warnings, pleas, instructions from John, all laid to waste in your trek, bundled up in your warmest jacket, gloves and hat. Your jeans stick to your thighs, cold prickling between the friction, headlamp illuminating the way, red light casting shadow into the forest, a thick fog settled in around the way.

You're not walking long, when you hear the first snap. You whirl, light pointed in the direction of the noise, to find nothing but silent woods, branches hanging low with the weight of icy winter.

Something cracks at your back. Something sharp, splintering through the fog's silence.

Your shoulder's raise. Your lungs go still.

Fear wraps around your throat, and chokes.

Don't look. Don't look.

John's voice echoes in your memory, severe blue gaze and downturned lips, opposite you at the table.

"Run."

You turn on your heel, digging into the dirt, and sprint. Around you, brush crashes. Branches and twigs break. There's a glimpse of paws, long strides eating the distance between yourself and your pursuer, panic bubbling up in your chest as you push yourself to the brink.

Faster.

To your left, a streak of white. Large, and graceful, taking downed logs and large branches with ease, cutting closer and closer, your movements growing clumsy each second.

The road, the house, are eons away. They might as well be on the other side of the earth, sanctuary vanishing before your very eyes.

From your left, from your right, breathing grows louder. Growls and yips and a howl bounce off the density of the darkness, heading you off.

Hunting you.

You can feel them. Wild, untamed lupine prowess stalks closer. Playing with their prey before they close you off from the end of the path completely. You're a child again, running into bed after flicking off the lights, terrified of what lurks beneath your bed. Sprinting up the basement stairs, hoping you'll be safe as soon as you touch the door handle and burst into the light.

Your tears come, sob ripping through your chest, a bleat of terror sounding off like a gunshot. You stay focused on the dark frame that's just in view, trying to outrun the snarling brutality chasing you.

When you find the road, you don't stop. You push yourself harder, faster, until the house is in sight, exhaustion turning your feet into concrete blocks, sending you pitching forward-

into a thick, warm, chest.

"What are you-" hands grip your upper arms, holding you steady, holding you close. An embrace of cedar and cigar, wilderness and ocean wrapping you up.

John.

"I- There- I saw-" You can't get it out. Tongue as clumsy as your limbs, you go limp and tremble.

The forest behind you is dead silent. Still.

"Shhh now." He murmurs, hand cupping the back of your head. It's large, nearly the size of your skull, and you press your nose to his jacket, gasping. "It's alright. You're alright."

"W-wolves." You bite, and his muscles go tense, neck rigid. You can feel torsion, the survey of the land behind you.

You brace for the scolding you know you've earned. The admonishment you deserve. "I'm sorry, I c-couldn't sleep, and thought I'd just... I'd walk. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, love. They're gone. You're safe." Love. The word suggests familiarity, affection, and you blink. He's gentle, still holding you close, grip firm and tense. You should pull away, salvage your dignity, your sanity.

You're a scientist. Not a child. What kind of display is this?

It all falls away, his thumb stroking a slow circle behind your ear. "Let's get you inside, hm?" You nod, still unsteady, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, tucking you close. Adrenaline keeps you in unsteady limbo, hands shaking so badly you're forced to press them against your heart.

He keeps you in his side the entire walk back, murmuring softly, accent lilting on the night's breeze. He helps you with your key when your fingers can't quite get a good grip, pushing your door wide and flicking on the lamp, pale yellow glow comforting in the inky black.

When he sits you down on the couch, you don't protest. He handles you carefully, long touch on your knee, turning with a distant expression, gaze fixed out the window. "Need you to be good and listen to me from now on. Don't want anything happening to ya."

"I know." You croak. You do, now. Before... before, you didn't take any stock in it. Averse to being told what to do, naturally resistant.

Now. Now you see.

"They were so close." you try to explain, avoiding his eyes. "Like they... like they were-"

"Hunting." You look up, big breath trying to fill your lungs, and he gives you a grim smile, palm still cupped over your knee. Something else starts to unfurl in the pit of your stomach, butterflies shaking the terror and spreading their wings, fluttering anxiously against your ribcage. His proximity suffocates you, too warm, too close, and it clouds the space between your bodies, confusion roaring in your mind. He clears his throat.

"Get some sleep." At the door, he turns back one last time, and gives you a nod, expectantly. Like he knows you'll take yourself right upstairs and curl into bed, bury yourself beneath a mountain of blankets. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, John."

[leatherandlacerry]

for our eyes only

Prompt: Harry takes Mia with him on a work trip in New York City and all she asks is to take a couple photos in the hotel lobby photobooth

Word count: less than 1K

Authors note: this one’s short and sweet, I always have those Photo Booth aesthetics on my Pinterest so I get inspired. I imagine Harry like ceo/boss of pleasing and richrry but will do anything for Mia LOL(if you guys like this I’ll definitely do some more of them, its also 1 am so I'm sorry if the editing sucks)

***

“Baby, can we?” Mia points to the vintage photobooth tucked away in the corner of the hotel Harry and her were staying at. It’s been the best weekend she could ask for surrounded by the towering views of New York City.

Harry had a work emergency out here so he decided to bring Mia for a get away. It’s been room service and bubble baths every night and she couldn’t ask for anything more.

Except making the man who hates having his photo taken do this one little thing.

Harry gives her a serious look before smirking at the pouty lips she give him.

“It’ll be quick and for our eyes only,” She grins, giving him puppy dog eyes before placing a kiss on his cheek.

Mia watches him have the argument in his head before ultimately he rolls his eyes and drags her to the booth.

“Itll be fun, I promise”

“This is only because I love you,” Harry mumbles before pushing the bright red curtain open to let her in. With a little bounce in her step she follows him in.

A squeal leaves Mia’s lips as Harry practically man handles you onto his lap and shuts the curtain for some privacy. They both take a second to get situated, making they know what poses they want to do.

“$10 for this rusty thing?!” Harry’s eyes practically bulge out of his eyes at the price of a small strip of paper.

Even the CEO for a multimillionaire dollar company has a budget I guess, it’s adorable.

“I got it!” Mia giggles, reaching into her small shoulder bag to grab some cash. By the time she pulls it out the countdown is starting on the small screen.

“I said I got-“

“Hush love, sit still and look pretty for the camera,” He scolded jokingly before grabbing her face in his hand placing a big kiss on her cheek. Mia scrunches up her face as the flash goes off.

“Easy enough,” She smirks at his last comment before he pinches your thigh. “I’m always pretty,”

“Mhm my pretty girl” He hums, looking over to Mia with biggest smile on his face. It had been a long time since Harry found someone like her. He’d be damned if he were to ever let this one go.

The two don’t even notice that the count down starts as mia leans down to place her lips on his.

In the heat of the moment Harry slides his tongue between her lips to deepen the kiss and the flash goes off. Mia pull back, slightly out of breath from the intensity of it all.

“A proper porno,” He jokes, making Mia’s head fall back in laughter. She could feel her heart practically pound out of her chest at the dimples on his cheeks.

“Not our first rodeo,” Mia smirks, nipping at his lip. That toothy grin of his appears into the kissed they shared before they get ready for the next one.

Mia never thought she could feel so deeply for someone like this. Everytime he was around she found it hard to function properly.

“What’s next?” He asks, getting ready for the next one.

On the high of him, Mia wraps her hands around his head, sticking her tongue out for a silly one. At the last second she decide to tussle up Harry's hair, making his face drop.

“Oh that’s the winner,” She laughs, watching him glare at her as he trys to fight a smile.

“That’s all you get now,” he mumbles, standing up to exit the booth as the last photo counts down.

“You looked hot!” Mia squeals, wrapping her arms sounded his toned waist to pull him back. Harry stops and turns back to grab a hold of her chin.

“Yeah?” He asks as Mia looks up at him, feeling a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. “How hot?”

Her mouth slightly opens to say something as the flash goes off and there’s now a photo of her in full submission. This is something Harry would cherish forever.

“That’s a keeper,” He chuckles as she pushes him off.

“Asshole”

[wishmemel]

so high school, ft. fushiguro megumi

synopsis: you’ve known megumi, nobara, and yuuji since freshman year of high school, but it's only recently that you and megumi have started realizing that your feelings might run deeper than friendship (that is, if either of you have the courage to make the first move...) tags: megumi x f! reader, non-curse au, this might be from megumi's pov idk, friends to lovers, all fluff, all characters are about 17, reader is an older sibling, megumi being his usual reserved self, reader is more bubbly, definitely self-indulgent (reader is a sanrio lover), probably ooc but this is just for fun, no beta reader so let me know if there’s any errors cw: i don't think there are any? please let me know if you spot anything, i'll add it! wc. 5.9k posted: 22/10/23 a/n: i've been working on this fic forever and i didn't think i was going to post it at first tbh... most of my fics stay in the drafts but i spent a little more than 2 weeks on this so i thought why not. also, yes, i know you can't legally drive a car in japan at 17, but we will ignore that for the sake of the fic!

Megumi chewed his lower lip, feeling the weight of the necklace stored in the lower pocket of his black backpack.

He and Yuuji had stopped by a comic book store before school started at the latter’s insistence—Megumi had already stopped by yesterday and picked up the copy he’d wanted in secret, stashed underneath his pillow—so he’d split from Yuuji and made his way to the Hello Kitty Shibuya store a few feet down. He didn’t want his friend to see the romance mangas that he was interested in, and he’d already spent most of his allowance on the two copies he’d bought yesterday. He didn’t want to be tempted any more.

Stepping into the store, dressed in all black, heavy eye bags present, his hair unkempt and spiky, he must have frightened the employees, but they’d done their best to greet him with a cheery smile and welcomed him inside. Megumi had pulled down his snapback and wandered around, wondering what he was doing flipping through a rack of cinnamoroll earrings.

By the time he was at the front counter, ears red, using the last of his allowance to buy a pink heart-shaped necklace of My Melody, he was convinced that he was insane. It was the last one on the shelf and it was… expensive, to say the least. He almost put it back on the shelf after seeing the price, but he hesitated, your sweet smile flashing in his mind. To see you rave and gush about him buying this necklace for you, which was supposedly out of stock everywhere online… Well, he really wanted to see your smile.

The employees at the register giggled over his flushed expression and prodded him about who he was buying it for, when he would give it to you, if you were already his girlfriend or if you were just a friend. They wrapped it in a pink box with a white satin ribbon and he left the store with the tiny amount of dignity he had remaining, his ears brick red from dodging all their suggestive questions. 

He hardly remembers stuffing the box deep in his backpack, underneath a spare sweater he keeps in his bag, and rushing over to the manga store with his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly waiting for Yuuji outside as if he’d never left.

They’d walked to school together, chattering away: well, it was mostly just Yuuji talking. Megumi listened, but that was the way he preferred it. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been labelled talkative. Even as a child, Gojo, his guardian, had complained about Megumi’s blunt and silent nature. Yuuji didn’t mind the silence—it just meant that he had a chance to talk. Nobara despised it—she was always rolling her eyes or pressing him about one thing or the other. When it came to you, you liked the comfortable silence. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, and even when you did, it was because you wanted to, not because of some awkwardness that you felt between the two of you. 

The two boys met up with you and Nobara, both of you bleary-eyed and early at school for once. 

The two of you had this awful habit of staying up late and talking on the phone to get your homework done and then waking up hours after school had started, practically missing your first period classes. 

Megumi and Yuuji used to wait outside the gate for you two in the beginning, but now they knew you too well and usually headed inside, talking at Megumi’s locker. On the off chance that one of you arrived on time, you knew exactly where to find them. 

“Where were you two?” you asked, tilting your head to the side with a confused scrunch of your brows. “We looked for you at your locker, but you weren’t there. Nobara and I actually got to school on time! Aren’t you proud?”

Despite your weariness, your makeup was always done to perfection, uniform ironed and straightened, hair silky and shining underneath the scorching sun, so Megumi always thought you looked good.

It was just recently that you had started looking beautiful instead of nice and seemed more funny than even his best friend, Yuuji.

“Megumi and I ran to the comic book store,” Yuuji said, eyes lighting up with excitement. “I got the one-hundred-fifteenth edition of Human Earthworm. Basically, in this edition, Worm Man falls in love with this woman, but there’s a catch! She’s also half-worm, but she’s a worm from the top half of her body and the bottom half—“

“Itadori,” Nobara barks. “It’s too early in the morning for your SuperWorm stories.”

Nobara glares at him, looking like she hadn’t even had time to do her makeup.

Yuuji peers at her. “You look kind of… sick.”

Nobara’s eyes flare with uncontrolled rage and she leaps on Yuuji’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist as she pulls at his pink hair. “Do you want me to kill you?”

Megumi sighs while Yuuji laughs and dodges Nobara’s advances. You just giggle, your arm brushing against Megumi’s, though he wonders if he’s the only one who notices the warmth of your skin on his.

The bell rings, startling them, and Nobara slowly unlatches herself from Yuuji. You bound over to her and fix her hair and she allows you patiently.

“Good?” she asks, checking her phone’s reflection.

“Good?” Yuuji mocks, patting down his own hair. 

“You both look hot,” you affirm, giggling at Nobara’s murderous look. You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and check your phone. Your expression brightens as you glance over at Megumi. “Megs and I have Chem together first. We have a lab today, remember?”

He doesn’t return your smile, mostly because he’s starstruck at the sight, but nods slowly to let you know he’s heard.

Nobara groans. “Yuuji and I have Gym first,” she gripes.

You snort, flicking her cheek. “I don’t want to know why you would ever decide to take that class.”

“It’s not bad or hard,” she defends, but then she puts her fist up and grits her teeth. “But there’s this really stupid teacher who always picks on me for being a woman. He thinks I’m slower ‘cause I have a vagina and that makes me want to pull out his hair.”

“And he hates me because he always says I’m cheating during our run,” Yuuji complains. “It’s not my fault I’ve trained a lot!”

You laugh again before bouncing over to Megumi and wrapping a hand around his bicep. “Let’s go,” you insist. “We have to get the seat at the back before Miwa gets there again! Last time, she took my spot and she knows it’s my spot. I always sit there!”

You drag him with you, calling your goodbyes to a stunned Yuuji and Nobara, the two aware of how much Megumi hates physical touch. They wait, watching for their friend to remove your hand, but he never does. The two exchange nervous looks as they follow you through the front doors.

You’re sitting on a large boulder, your back to him, as you listen to Yuuji and Nobara’s insistent speech. He can almost imagine your confused look: your eyebrows scrunched, lips pouty.

The three of you haven’t spotted him yet, nonchalantly strolling towards you, hands tucked in his pocket, but even at this distance he can hear what the pair are telling you.

“You cannot touch Megumi,” Nobara insists. “He hates being touched.”

“The last time I tried to hug him, he squeezed my wrist so hard I thought it’d break,” Yuuji points out, cradling his arm. “He hates physical touch.”

Megumi sighs and rolls his eyes. 

Just when he’d started getting close to someone, his cursed friends had to interfere. Even if their intentions are in the right place, can’t they mind their own business? He isn’t exactly the people-pleasing type: if he’s letting you touch him, it’s on purpose. 

Both Nobara and Yuuji share exactly one brain cell, he thinks. 

“Oh… really?” Is he imagining the hint of disappointment in your tone? “Ah, I didn’t know. Okay… I’ll try to keep my distance from now on. Thanks for telling me.”

“What are you three talking about?” he asks, stopping at your back.

You still as his leg brushes against your back. You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes with a tentative smile. He’s awestruck all over again, like every time you flash him that smile. 

“You,” Nobara answers truthfully, taking his attention off of you. 

Yuuji elbows her and laughs awkwardly. “She’s kidding. W-we were talking about Human Earthworm 5! Yeah, Human Earthworm. Obviously. I told them we should go see the fifth—“

You roll your eyes, watching him take a large step over the boulder to stand next to Yuuji. “I don’t know why they’re lying. We were just talking about where to go for lunch. Yesterday, Nobara and I got to pick and we went out for sushi, remember? We thought you guys might have a preference today.”

“That’s what we were talking about,” Yuuji affirms quickly with a painfully bright smile. Megumi isn’t so awestruck at the sight. 

There’s a collective moment of silence; they’re all holding their breath, waiting for his answer. 

He looks at you. You give him an innocent smile, blinking, and he finds it slightly frightening how easily you can lie to his face like that.

“Okay.” Megumi shrugs, accepting your words. “I’m in the mood for tteokbokki,” he says, despite his lack of allowance, if only to change the topic. He remembers Yuuji salivating over the thought of the street food yesterday in Math class, even after lunch. 

“There’s a place near here that has corn dogs and tteokbokki,” Nobara mentions, checking the Maps app on her phone. “It’s a five minute walk.”

“I want tteokbokki with a boiled egg,” Yuuji announces eagerly. 

“Tteokbokki is best with egg,” Nobara agrees. “Wanna share?”

“I want the whole egg,” Yuuji warns.

“You can spare me half,” she insists. “I want it too!”

“If we want to go, then we should go now,” you interrupt. “We only have thirty minutes left.”

Both Nobara and Yuuji start bickering over their order and you take that chance to sneak a quick glance at your phone, frowning at the recurring texts you’ve been receiving. 

Megumi looks to you, eyes catching onto the worried crease between your eyebrows. You put away your phone at his watchful gaze.

“Sorry,” you say, feigning a smile. “Let’s go.”

He nods, wondering if he should ask you why you had that concerned look in your eyes. But Megumi isn’t good at words; he always stumbles and trips over them and can never quite get his thoughts out properly, unlike you. He’s always admired the eloquent and seemingly veritable way you speak, even when you lie. You’re always able to put on a mask. 

He’s not so good with words, so in a rare display of bravery, he resorts to offering you his hand, as if extending his heart to you. His ears turn red as he looks away from you, realizing that Yuuji and Nobara have stopped arguing long enough to watch. 

You blink uncertainly, then beam up at him and take his hand. 

Your hand is warm in his and much much softer than the callouses that roughen his. Often, you offer him hand lotion in Chemistry and he hasn’t the heart to refuse you. You squeeze a dollop of the rose-scented cream in his hand before doing the same on your own. He gets the pleasure of watching you beam as the two of you rub the lotion into your palms. As a result of your generosity, his hands have been feeling softer than usual.

You thank him for the gesture and he just shrugs, bumping shoulders with you as you enter the address into your Maps app, trying to avoid the awkward atmosphere in the air. 

“We can get two eggs,” Nobara attempts, to break the tension. 

Yuuji agrees immediately with no argument. 

The jewelry box feels especially heavy in Megumi’s bag.

When the three of you reach the restaurant, Yuuji and Nobara immediately fight over who’s paying for the extra eggs. Nobara insists that it should be Yuuji who pays because he should be the one paying penance, while Yuuji wants to split the cost in half. The two of them bicker a little more, embarrassing you and Megumi in front of the cashier before they place their order, and then continue to do so while taking a seat at a table for four.

You just sigh and muster your brightest smile to make up your friends. Megumi hovers closely behind you as you place your order, feeling slightly protective of you in front of the handsome male noting your order. 

The man is tall, maybe taller than Megumi himself, and he has this air of easiness that Megumi instantly dislikes. What, with his eager grins and frequent winks sent your way, it’s clear that he just can’t—won’t—take a hint. His name tag reads Haru, which has many many meanings, but the one Megumi decides on is sun. He’s overwhelmingly sunny, much like Yuuji. But while Yuuji’s is a natural sunniness, a disposition that comes easily to him, Haru has this overbearing nature, like when he leans over the register to take your cash and purposely lets your fingers brush his. He has these charming chocolate-coloured curls and he keeps brushing them out of his big, dark eyes. Even through his instant dislike, Megumi can’t help comparing himself to the man.

He keeps wondering: Is this your type? Would you be interested in someone like this, so sunny and bright, almost as much as you are?

“A mozzarella corn dog with cinnamon sugar and the small tteokbokki, no egg,” you’re confirming, cutting through the jealous haze that is his thoughts. You glance back at him, finally taking his attention off of Haru. “Want anything?”

“Naah, I ate earlier,” he says with a shake of his head, sidling closer so that your back brushes against his chest. You startle slightly, but don’t move away. Haru’s smile falters a little. Megumi wants to stick his tongue out at him petulantly like a little kid who’s just won a game of rock, paper, scissors. 

Somehow, Megumi can tell you see through his lie, likely because you’ve been with him for almost the entire day, but you don’t argue and he quickly pulls out his phone and distracts himself with the Weather app so that you won’t suspect him further. 

A forecast of rain, he notices, startling. 

He usually stores an umbrella or two in his bag because he knows you never bring one—it doesn’t rain as often as you’d like, but even when it does, you enjoy the water soaking you to the bone. Megumi usually watches you, Nobara, and Yuuji splash in puddles, his black umbrella already opened up to keep him dry. When the three of you get tired or cold, you can count on him to lend you one, and you often plaster yourself to his side, getting his clothes wet as your teeth chatter underneath the umbrella. 

His fond expression breaks when you nudge his shoulder and the two of you make your way to the table where your friends are already seated, Nobara sitting cross-legged on the seat to face Yuuji, hands waving about animatedly. 

“You know, you were checking that guy out for an awfully long time,” you tease with a cheeky smile.

Megumi’s mind doesn’t put two and two together. In fact, he feels like it might be short-circuiting. “What?”

None of what you’re saying makes sense to him—isn’t it so obvious that he’s interested in you? 

“You know, Megs, if you’re gay, you just have to tell me,” you say solemnly, trying not to let your face crack. “I’m sure Nobara and Yuuji will also support you. Nobara likes girls, and, besides, that’s what friends are for. We’re here for you, even if you’re into the douchey cashier.”

“You thought he was douchey?” he blurts, the only thing that his brain seems to process. 

“So, you are gay!” you exclaim, slapping your receipt onto the table where Nobara and Yuuji are sitting. They jump at the thump sound the receipt makes on the table, their conversation interrupted. 

“Fushigoru’s gay?” Nobara asks skeptically with a raised brow as she turns around to face the two of you. An amused smile plays on her mouth. “I knew it. I called it first!”

“I said it first!” Yuuji protests. “Remember when he punched Kai in the face and I said that he did it because he thought his was was just too pretty to—“

“I’m not gay,” Megumi snaps, cheeks on fire. “And I don’t like Kai!”

You stifle a giggle, sliding your receipt in Nobara’s direction. “I got a corndog and tteokbokki. We can share.”

Nobara scans the receipt with a raised brow, letting Yuuji read off her shoulder. “Another phone number?” she teases slyly. 

“What?” you and Megumi blurt at the same time. 

Megumi snatches the receipt from her freshly-manicured nails and his eyes widen in horror at the series of numbers that are, indeed, printed at the bottom in black pen next to a winky emoji. Beside him, you cringe and Megumi crushes it up in his palm and shoves it into his pocket. 

He raises a brow, sliding into the booth, and asks, “Did you want that?”

You shake your head almost immediately and follow after him, sitting across from Nobara. She taps the side of your sneaker with her own and you look her way long enough to see a mischievous glint enter her eyes. 

“You’ve just been collecting phone numbers left and right, haven’t you?” Nobara sings, wiggling her brows at you to break the silence. “Quite the player, aren’t you?”

“This is the first number I’ve gotten all year,” you protest, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You know that—you guys are always with me!”

“What about the guy at the vending machine yesterday?” Yuuji asks.

“Kai?” you ask in disbelief. “He’s not—We aren’t—”

Megumi blurts, “Kai asked you out yesterday?”

You groan aloud, burying your face in your hands. “No, he didn’t! He just expressed his interest. I told him I didn’t like him and we left it at that.”

And here Megumi was thinking that the guy had learned his lesson—It was true that Megumi had punched him in the face, but not for the reasons that Yuuji predicted. If Yuuji had truly heard what Kai had said about you, he wouldn’t be nearly as lax with his teasing remarks. And, fine, it was true—Kai did have somewhat of a pretty face and Megumi did have this tiny inkling that Kai had feelings for you, but he’d done his best to ignore that small, jealous whisper and tuck it aside. He never imagined that Kai would act on his feelings.

Maybe Megumi hadn’t punched him hard enough. 

Megumi removes his snapback and places it on the table, rubbing the material between his fingertips to soothe the burning in his chest. 

Yuuji raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his mouth. He looks like he’s about to make another unnecessary comment, but he’s interrupted by Haru, the cashier, serving them their lunch on a long, silver tray. 

You make eye contact with him and suddenly regret your decision to sit on the outside of the booth when he smiles at you for long moments while serving, explaining each and every dish with precise detail to you and only you. He flatly ignores your friends and keeps his eyes locked onto you, even while serving—you’re half afraid he might drop something that way. On the positive side, he knows exactly what he’s talking about—each dish, each flavour, each part is explained down to a T. 

You know more about canned Coca-Cola now than you ever have in your entire life. Who knew that the drink used to contain cocaine before 1929? Not you. But you’re thinking you could use some right now to get out of this awkward situation.

On the negative side—Yuuji is stifling his laugh, Nobara looks like she might explode any moment now, and Megumi… Megumi is glaring daggers at the man who ignores the icy look and continues his long-winded speech. 

You break eye contact and try not to roll your eyes as you lock gazes with Yuuji across the table. He gives you a knowing look, pressing his trembling lips together to hold in the laughter that dances in his eyes. 

He seems to be saying this is all your fault. 

You just sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll pay for your eggs," is what you mouth back at him. 

Yuuji’s smile widens and he makes out, “Deal!”, right back at you. 

Haru has only just moved on to explaining how tteokbokki is made in their kitchen when Megumi tucks his black snapback onto your head, bringing it down to cover your view. He opens his mouth to argue but is interrupted by Nobara who snaps, “I think we know what we ordered. And Chef doesn’t seem like it’s part of your job description.”

The silence that befalls the restaurant makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. You sigh and cover your face with your hands, wishing a hole would appear in the floor so you could crawl into it, roll around, and just die. 

Megumi is not sure whether to feel grateful to Nobara for speaking up or annoyed because he was going to say something first. 

Haru mumbles, “It’s not. I’m a server.”

“I think we can handle it from here,” Yuuji coughs awkwardly. 

“Thank you,” you mutter under your breath, nudging Megumi with your knee. 

“Thanks,” Megumi repeats tersely, unpleasantly reminded of the existence of social etiquette. 

“Men take a hint,” Nobara mutters, glaring at Haru’s retreating back. “Level: impossible.”

You snort under a breath and point a set of packaged chopsticks at her. “And you made fun of me for rejecting Kai. He also wouldn’t take a hint and was incredibly insistent—I mean, what kind of guy waits outside of class for you every. single. day. after you reject him?”

Nobara slides her tteokbokki in her direction, seeing as how all of the dishes are placed in a spot advantageous to you. You give both her and Yuuji a pair of chopsticks, then push Megumi’s smaller tteokbokki dish towards him. 

“Megumi and I wait outside your classes for you,” Yuuji points out, breaking apart his chopsticks with a skeptical eyebrow raised. 

Indeed, Megumi is frozen, awaiting your response with bated breath. 

Do you find him creepy or weird when he waits for you? He’d always thought you might appreciate having someone to walk to your classes and chatter with, especially when Nobara isn’t around. He hadn’t considered the fact that you might think of him as a creep…

“You and Megumi don’t count,” you insist, glancing at him with your brows furrowed. “We’re friends. It’s different. Kai would bring me a different flavoured chocolate each day and deliberately hand it out in front of a group of guys that are known to gossip. He’d make these stupid comments, put his hand on my shoulder, and act like we were dating.”

You unwrap a set of chopsticks, snap them in half and offer them to Megumi who takes them with a troubled look. 

“Stop it,” you argue, nudging his leg with yours. “I already told you: I’m uncomfortable when Kai does it. You guys are my friends—it’s not any different than when Nobara waits for me.”

“Preach,” Nobara says solemnly, shoving another rice cake in her mouth. Yuuji startles and protests at the fact that he’s been too busy conversing with you to even have a bite, but Nobara just sticks her tongue out at him petulantly. 

So now he’s being compared to Nobara, Megumi sulks. He’s not sure which is worse—being likened to a creep or to Nobara. 

You nudge him with your elbow this time, shooting him an effortless smile. “Come on, cut out the whole protective older brother thing. I can see it in your face. Nothing happened, Megs.”

Megumi starts, then just nods, though he hadn’t been thinking of Haru. Unfortunately, your words do nothing to ease his mind. 

Now you’re referring to him as your older brother… He can’t say he’s not used to it, but… he doesn’t want to be your older brother, nor does he want to act like one.

Nobara smirks. “Yeah, Megs, listen to your—”

He kicks her shin from across the table and her eyes blow wide. “Hey! You didn’t do anything when…” Nobara’s train of thought is cut off when Yuuji elbows her. She settles for glaring at Megumi with a look that says I’ll get you back. 

Megumi looks indifferent to her nonverbal threat as he takes the first bite from his meal. Seeing him eat spurs you into action and you open up the container with your mozzarella corn dog.

He knows you see Nobara as a fun, sister-like figure: someone you can laugh with, go shopping with, and call whenever you need advice, gossip, or a pick-me-up. With Nobara, your time flies by in seconds, the two of you always busy giggling and laughing on FaceTime. 

You see Yuuji as a younger brother: someone to indulge and take care of, especially because Megumi doesn’t humour him and Nobara bickers with him day and night, much like a sibling would. You ruffle his hair when you’re pleased with him, making him beam, and you graciously tag along to the movie theater with him when a new Human Earthworm movie is released, since he and Nobara staunchly refuse whenever Yuuji pleads. 

So, maybe Megumi’s role has been predetermined from the start. He’s always been overprotective of his friends and he nags like a mother hen, especially when it comes to you. Whenever you text him that you’re going out, accompanied with a few pictures, asking him what to wear, he always makes sure that you have your location on, your ringer on, that you aren’t on silent mode, or you haven’t muted his texts. He makes sure he knows exactly where you’re going, when you’ll be back; he makes sure his phone is always nearby so he never misses a text from you, in the rare case that you might message him to pick you up. After all, he is your group’s designated driver. He figures you might need him once in a while. 

He chews his rice cakes slowly, trying to ignore the burn in his chest. He glances over at you, busy in conversation. The three of you are used to his frequent silence; you don’t take it as odd anymore, nor do you press for him to join the conversation. You all know he’ll speak up when he wants to. 

Is he overbearing? 

Actually… he’s not unlike you, in that sense. 

You’re the first to remind Yuuji, as always, that he’s left his phone in Megumi’s car, or his books in the classroom, or that his hoodie is in his locker, as always, but you’d picked it up for him because you knew he’d forget. Before he can even tell you that he’s lost his pencil for the third time this week, you’re pressing one into his hands with a skeptical eyebrow raise that asks, anything else? He’s like a little puppy that you look after when no one else will. 

With Nobara, he’s seen you often calling her when she’s alone in a taxi and she texts you that the driver is being weird. You stay on call with her, purposely raising your voice loud enough for the driver to hear you ask repeatedly, “Where are you? When are you getting here? We’re all waiting for you.” You always wait on her text that tells you she’s reached home safe before your shoulders loosen and you feel some of the tension leave you. 

Before Megumi goes out, you’re over at his house, fussing over his clothes (the same ones he wore a day ago), his hair (that never seems to settle, no matter how much gel or hairspray you use), his face. You pinch his cheeks, tell him to go wash his face again because he still looks half-asleep, toss him a rose-scented lotion tube, straight from your bag, and insist that he keep it. You completely baby him. 

And when the four of you go out for lunch, more often than not, it’s you who orders for the rest of them, Megumi tagging along sometimes, if only to insist on paying. You half-listen to their conversation, half-wonder when the food will arrive. And when it finally does, you’re the first to urge them to start: handing them their utensils, breaking apart their chopsticks, and reminding them to eat well. 

You’re used to looking after others and putting their needs before your own, as the eldest daughter of your family. Megumi is overprotective as well, but he’s also hyper-independent, used to caring for himself without anyone else. Around you, he always finds his demeanor molding, softening—he acts more spoiled, more sulky, almost as if he’s trying to catch your attention, to make you fuss over him. And you do. You always indulge him, though he’s sure you can see right through his act. 

You’re laughing at something Yuuji says when you notice him looking at you, as if he’s seeing you in a new light. You hold your corn dog up to him, a sweet smile on your face.

Megumi blinks, ears reddening, as he shakes his head. “N-no, I wasn’t—“

“Have some. It’s good,” you insist, and he can’t refuse you.

So he leans forward in his seat, his thigh brushing against yours—he shouldn’t feel so flustered by that action, right? But you’re still wearing his snapback on your head and it looks ridiculous on you, oversized and just barely hanging onto your head. 

Sharing clothes or accessories isn’t new between the two of you either, nor are brief touches like his leg against yours. For some reason, he’s starting to feel hyper-aware of his every movement around you in a way that he doesn’t feel around Nobara, or even Yuuji. 

Often, when the four of you have sleepovers or movie nights, typically held at Megumi’s house (he’s always playing host, but he’s grateful that you help out by always arriving an hour earlier with bags of snacks. Gojo adores you for that reason alone), you don’t shy away from physical touch. You’ve fallen asleep on his arm more times than he can count, laid your legs in Yuuji’s lap while the four of you argue over which movie to watch, and squeezed Nobara’s hand throughout countless horror movies. 

And yet… Your thighs brushing through your jeans as he leans close is somehow the most intimate feeling he’s had since his kindergarten crush had hugged him tight on the playground in front of his friends. 

You hold your corn dog up to his mouth and he takes a bite, relishing in the stretch of mozzarella as you pull the snack away from him with a laugh. He keeps his eyes locked on your lit smile, unaware of Yuuji and Nobara’s troubled gaze trained on him.

You’re like the sun; wherever you go, you shine so bright, making him want to reflect you: he can’t help smiling back. 

Sharing food has never been a big deal between the four of you—well, three of you. Before you had found them and became involved in their little friend group, Megumi used to firmly refuse to drink from the same bottle as Nobara or eat from the same spoon as Yuuji, on account of “hygiene”, he claimed. Then you’d stumbled and tripped right into their world and the easy way you’d steal Yuuji’s gatorade from right under his nose and take a sip or share a bite of the cake pop you’d brought for lunch with Nobara had been enough to make him loosen up too, just enough. Eventually, he’d forgotten about that little rule, all because of you, with no shortage of teasing from Yuuji and Nobara.

He drinks from the same glass as you when you’re over at his house, and when you find yourself parched at school, he’s the first to offer to run to the convenience store and back in time for your first period class, Chemistry, which you share with him. The two of you often pass the drink back and forth in class and he tosses it out afterwards when you walk out together, complaining about the homework or the in-class lesson. 

Although, he wonders absentmindedly, if you’re eating from the same spoon as him or sipping from the same can from him, can that be counted as… an indirect kiss?

His eyes are inexplicably drawn to your glossy lips as you beam at him and put together a string of words that flies right over his head. What if he leaned forward, just a little? The sparkles on your lips are illuminated by the warm lighting of the restaurant and he finds himself musing about the flavour of your gloss. 

Cherry, perhaps? He’d like cherry. Or even strawberry might be nice, sweet and sugary, he thinks. Anything would do, if it was you. 

You call his name again, snapping him out of his daze, and he stammers, “W-what?”

You giggle, tucking his snapback onto his head and covering his face. Why doesn’t he have a voice recording of that precious laugh of yours? “Idiot. I was asking if it was good!”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it’s great,” he mumbles dazedly with no idea of what you’re talking about as he adjusts his hat.

He blinks, trying to clear the fog in his head as you wait expectantly, ignoring Yuuji and Nobara’s snickers in the background. 

“I-it was really good. The corn dog, I mean,” he clarifies, gaze dipping to your lips again. “I liked it. But… Lunch is on me next time.”

You snort, looking satisfied with his answer. “Lunch is always on you. Pigs won’t start flying if you let me pay for your meal once.”

Megumi has what you call textbook manners when it comes to things like this; he’s overly stiff, overly formal. He can’t remember the last time he’d let any of you pay for him without returning the favour. It’s more than just a matter of his pride and ego (though that certainly plays a hand.) It’s the fact that he can’t fathom depending on any of you like that. He can’t accept this level of warmth or care without his mind whispering that it’s only a matter of time before you’ll all leave, just like his father, just like his mother. 

He exhales deeply and pops open the can of Coca-Cola that you bought him. The bubbles hiss and fizzle before settling down. As soon as they do, he slides the can towards you with a jerk of his head: an order to take the first sip. 

You give him an indulgent smile and follow his instructions, leaving behind a mauve stain on the can. Then, you push the can towards him with the same head jerk motion that he gave you. He resists the temptation of giving in to your antics and smiling as a result. 

You’re messing with his head, he groans silently. He’s never going to be the same after this. More than that, he thinks, glancing towards Nobara and Yuuji who observe him with matching knowing looks, the two of them are never going to let him live this down. 

Maybe you don't know it yet, but Megumi is yours.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[rodolfoparras]

its all fun and games thinking about price until you start thinking about Dragon!Price. What id let that dragon man do to me is horrifying. He'd be so warm and cozy! But also so so so possessive of you! Someone flirts, say goodbye to your ability to walk and say hello to a bunch of marks 👍

Thinking about Price being known as the mean old dragon living in the mountains and all the villagers fear him, have tried to defeat him only to end up dead and those who’ve managed to survive haven’t been able to tell the tale from the sheer shock of surviving the event. One day someone as adventurous or rather someone as foolish as you sets out to meet this dragon only to discover him tucked away in some corner of his cave while baring his claws at you, in an attempt to defend himself.

However you don’t take out your sword to hurt him, matter of fact you sit down on the cold concrete floor, pushing a small offering his way without coming any closer.

You read in one of the ancient books hidden away in the library that if you want to build a connection with a dragon you should try handing it an offer.

Although he’s in his dragon form you can see the confused look on his face, the slight tilt to his head and how his whiskers sway in the air before he approaches closer.

The smell of smoke becomes much prominent, dust raising from the ground as he moves his large body before he swiftly takes the offering in his mouth and quickly returns to his original spot .

He turns to meet your gaze only to see the soft smile on your face as you continue to sit in place.

This goes on for days, weeks, months, you’ll walk all the way to the mountain where the mean old dragon resides bring him offering before leaving for the night.

Despite taking up a dragon form he’s more human than you thought. You see the way his eyes light up when you bring him the fruit he likes, you see the curl of his lip, the smoke coming out his nostrils as if huffing when you reprimand him for eating so quick (you’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t get sick from the way he’s basically inhaling his offerings)

You even see the way he’s grown accustomed to you, sure he won’t try to approach but at least he no longer bares his claws at you.

It’s safe to say that you’ve formed some type of bond with the mean old dragon.

You don’t mention this routine to anyone, keeping it all under wraps while continuously visiting the him so it comes as a surprise when you arrive one day with offerings in your hand only to be met with the sight of the dragon bleeding out.

You drop the basket in hand, red apples falling to the floor and the loud thudding sound catches the dragons attention.

Before you know of it the dragon is lunging at you, only to narrowly miss when you roll away in the last second.

“Hey hey it’s me it’s me” you try to explain but the dragon doesn’t seem to care as it launches another attack your way. This time he manages to get in a scratch but even then you keep your sword tucked away, still trying to talk some sense into the dragon.

“Hey hey look,” you say as you take the sword out of its holder and slide it over to where he stands.

At first you can’t see his reaction, face obscured by the cloud of smoke coming from his nose but when you do you see his head tilted just the same as when you first met him in this cave.

“See? I won’t hurt you” you say with a soft smile on your face even going as far as raising your hands in the air.

The dragon's gaze drops from your face down to the ground and when you follow his eyes you see your own blood dripping down.

“Oh” you say gaze glued back to the dragon again “just a minor scratch dont worry about it” minor was an understatement but despite your blury eyes and the nasoua bubbling up in your gut you make your way over to him.

“You’re hurt too” you say as if the dragon could understand you “let me check on it?”

The dragon doesn’t respond but doesn’t move away either as you steadily approach.

You continue to keep your hands up in the air, soft smile still glued to your face doing your best to be as reassuring as possible as you approach him on shaky legs.

When you go to take a closer look, you see the many scales on his underbelly ripped away and a foreign object jammed into it.

“What happened?” You say to yourself before looking up at the dragon again. “I’m going to try to take it out alright? You say pointing to the wound in hopes of making yourself understood.

Once again the dragon doesn’t respond but doesn’t move away either when you approach.

“Good boy” you whisper to yourself and for the first time since you’ve been visiting this dragon you get a proper look at the many scale that decorate his skin. Although most of them are soaked in blood you can see the gold color that coats them and hues of orange and red scattered about on them. You careful reach a hand out ,neck uncomfortably cranking up to meet the dragons gaze, so far he hasn’t moved away yet and you take it as a positive sign as you grab ahold of the sword and slowly but surely start pulling it out of his underbelly.

The dragon roars not out of fear but out of pain as you continue to pull the sword out of him.

“I know I know just give me a second” you say under a shaky breath using all your strength to finally pull it out of him

Immediately he slumps down, wings protectively covering his lower half as he lets out a sound that is something like a mix of pain and relief. Behind him you see the skeletal remains of what must’ve been a person tempting fate and with the dragons blood on your hands, it’s hard to feel bad for the dead man.

You carefully sit down too and make quick work of ripping a piece of your shirt to use as gauze all while the dragon continues to watch you.

Once you’re all cleaned and wrapped up you smile up at him, and once again he just stares at you without giving much of a response.

“We’re okay”

The two of you continue to be okay days weeks and months after that event.

You even seem to grow closer, and at some point the dragon allows you to touch him. Sure it may be to only attended to minor injuries but progress is still progress.

However it all takes a turn when you go to visit him like you usually do, with a basket of apples in hand and a soft smile on your face that quickly drops along with the basket as you take in the sight of the dragon charging towards you. 

You don’t even have time to react before the dragon is just a hair away from your face and you close your eyes out of instinct , as a frightful sound tumbles past your lips.

However the frightened look quickly turns into one of confusion when you notice that the dragon hasn’t attacked you yet and when you open your eyes you don’t see the mean old dragon standing in front of you but instead it’s a man, completely nude and staring at you with the most beautiful pair of cerulean eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Why do you smell like someone else?”

Spitball w/ me?