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aeragan · 11 months ago

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ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx? ⨟ ʜꜱʀ ᴍᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: im feeling sick in the head and also Fuck Me by Vernon Jane

✧ a/n: uhhmmmm i deserve to be a little freaky and weird and perverse ALSO IDK WHY THE X LOOKS LIKE THAT AND ITS ANNOYING ME TOO. LETS IGNORE IT, TOGETHER

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (for the bad bitches with uteruses), period sex (spoiler: theyre ALL into it.), fingering, face sitting, use of toys, dry humping (?), thigh riding, cunnilingus, thigh job, mutual masturbation, cowgirl/boy position, mating press, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

⎯ Aventurine

AVENTURINE is all for it, if it means it’ll make you feel better. He prefers to use toys, if anything. He doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, but he’s more worried about hurting you. So he’s got a set of vibrators specifically that he likes to use while you’re on your period. And if you ask, he’ll probably buy a couple new ones, as well.

You do your best to stay still underneath Aventurine, eyes shut tight as you buck your hips up against the wand between your legs. Aventurine looks down smugly at you, mirth glimmering in those beautiful eyes of his. The beneath your stomach had long since turned into a delicious feeling of wholeness and warmth, and you couldn’t help but chase after it. Aventurine, for once, cannot bring himself to tease about how desperate you are to cum.

He had amped up the wand to its max intensity, just to make sure you had felt it through your clothes. Not that you hadn’t, you were practically pushing your pussy up against it the minute he had brought out the vibrator, doing anything to get yourself off. You feel the pleasure mounting all too quickly, yet chase after it nonetheless. You grab Aventurine’s wrist and whined, legs tensing and closing as if to ward off the vibrator. And like that, the pressure releases, giving way to a blissful feeling, the last of your cramps fading away so… easily.

“That good, huh?” Aventurine chides, a sultry grin plastered on his features as he lowers the intensity of the vibrator, yet still presses it up against your clothed clit to let you ride out your high. You don’t respond, basking in the sensation (and the fact that your cramps are gone).

⎯ Dr. Ratio

VERITAS may act hesitant when you bring up the idea, but he doesn’t say no. He’s more worried about how he should go about it than anything, and while it isn’t unfamiliar territory to him, he’s just… unsure of himself. Ultimately, he settles on toys, normally vibes, but dildos will do as well.

It was rather late by the time you had come complaining to him, and he was already behind on grading his student’s papers. Normally, he’d tell you to give him a couple more minutes to finish up his work and you give him that time, but with how much you're groaning and talking about the pain, he’s quite quick to put his pen down. He adjusts himself and slides open his legs, patting his thigh for you to sit down on, with barely another word.

And of course you sit down, your cramps had been killing you all day and you were desperate to find any way to get rid of them because painkillers just… weren’t working. You start to weakly grind against his thigh, hands holding yourself up by his strong shoulders. His right arm wraps around your waist and guides you slow rocking movements, fishing through his desk and finding a vibrator wand. He felt a little embarrassed to have kept something so… lewd in his desk, but then again, there were moments like this that made him feel a little bit better about keeping it.

He sets it on a lower setting, pressing it against your clit and you grind against his thigh. He watches intently, his gaze soft as he does his best to coax you through it, small, soft praises that no one would expect from Veritas himself. But he’s worried, more than aroused. If this is what helps your cramps, then he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t even protest. He watches as your face goes from tensed to relaxed, moaning out his name and even small ‘thank you’s as your heat mounts.

⎯ Boothill

You don’t even have to ask BOOTHILL, the minute you complain about your cramps, he’s on his knees, tugging at the hem of your pants. He prefers to eat you out on your period, given his skilled tongue. Any ‘but’s you had when you first brought the idea up were quickly swept away, he’d eat you out every day of the week during your cycle, or even all day, if you needed it.

Boothill groans against your sex, head buried between your thighs as your hands tug at his hair, a silent praise for just how good he was doing. While he feels quite feverish, his pace is slow and languid, drawing out every little sound of yours he can. The metallic taste on his tongue is just another reward, really. His hands grip your thighs as he presses a series of kisses against your clit, before delving his tongue back into your heat.

Soft sighs escape you as he continues his ministrations, unbothered by the way you squirm every so often or tug at his hair. He’s drunk off the taste of you, really. He laps up the blood as if it was his last meal, groaning every now and then when he had to take a breath. Sometimes he murmurs something in your flesh, too muffled for you to hear, but the vibrations of his gravelly voice provide an exquisite feeling. If you could do this all day, you would.

Heat curls beneath your stomach as Boothill suckles on your clit, thighs pressing against either side of his face as you grind your hips further into his mouth like he wasn’t close enough. Your head spins as you finally let go, letting out a low moan and cumming into his mouth. He licks it all up, letting out a low, guttural sound of approval, his mouth pressed against your folds for a second longer. He withdraws with a gentle kiss pressed to your clit, and a cocky grin sent your way. He quite enjoys the mess.

⎯ Gallagher

The minute you brought the idea up, GALLAGHER is down. He’d do anything you asked him to, from simply fingering you to full on penetration, whatever you want, he does. He wants you to feel better, and by Aeons, he’ll do just that. Would period cramps even exist in a dream? Doesn’t matter. If he knows it’ll help you, he’s on it.

His fingers sink deep within your pussy, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as you roll your hips against his fingers, moaning softly. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles against it. Lewd squelching sounds fill your ears and you desperately chase after his fingers every time the pull back slightly, head leaning back against Gallagher’s shoulder, splayed out in his lap.

“That’s it,” He coos, his free hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing at your hip. He presses a quick kiss to the crook of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace of his fingers. Heat spreads throughout your body, your eyes rolling back as you surrender to the feeling. “Doesn’t that feel better, sweetheart?”

Before you can catch it, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You barely felt it build up, and now you’ve cum on Gallagher’s fingers. He lets out a throaty chuckle as you do so, tilting your head and moaning into his ear. With a few more pumps of his rough fingers, he pulls them out slowly, admiring his work. You breathe heavily, doing what you can to catch your breath. Your eyes follow his hand as he brings it up to his mouth, sucking off the rest of your blood and cum from his fingers with a satisfied, sultry look.

⎯ Sunday

SUNDAY would feel quite… down, knowing that period cramps still exist within Penacony. Knowing you can’t even escape them in the Dreamscape, he can’t help but wallow a little. But, with that, he will do anything to take away the pain. And when you suggest period sex, he’s practically scrambling for a condom.

Water sloshes around you as Sunday’s hands curl up at your sides, nails digging into flesh. He presses his nose to the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as he bucks his hips up into you. Your back is pressed flush against his chest, his cock buried within you as he does his best to guide you by your hips. He lets out soft groans here and there, evidently enjoying this more than you are.

He does his best to minimize splashing, yet he is eager to please, and to make you feel better. He isn’t rough or fast, taking you at a rather languid pace, but with how feverish his groans are, how his hips stutter every now and then, he’s rather close himself. He can’t help himself, simply being this close to you has him hard. You roll your head back, moaning against his ear, and he just can’t help but cum.

You follow soon after as Sunday peppers kisses against your neck, sloppily at first, but becoming more refined as he shakes off that needy headspace. The pressure in your stomach gives way to blissful heaven then nothingness, the pain that spread to your stomach and legs, gone, just like that. When you turn your head to look at Sunday, he was a gentle smile plastered to his lips, eyelashes fluttering as if he himself had felt your pain go away.

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI does everything that he can for you when you start your period. No questions asked. In fact, he’s the one that brings up the idea of sex. He’ll eat you out as you wish, finger you, or simply fuck you as gently or as hard as you wish. He doesn’t mind a mess, he actually quite likes it.

He indulges in his desires so easily when it’s you. When his eyes flutter open, he looks up at you with the utmost devotion, head buried between your thighs as you ride his face. Your moans only spur him on, and when you look behind you, you can see his painfully hard erection that has gone untouched. He planned on delighting you in every single way you asked him to, but insisted on starting with his favorite.

Argenti whimpers against your flesh, too caught up in his own selfish desires as his normally profound and rather elegant tongue-fucking turns feverish and sloppy, as if this was something he had always wanted. It was hard for him to break his normally so composed character, and yet here he was, so messy for his lover above him, he himself was desperate to quell the cramps you had been dealing with. His mouth works at a head-spinning pace for once, licking a fat stripe up your folds, kissing your clit, then practically making out with whatever he could put his mouth on.

Just as you orgasm, he lets out a guttural groan, something that came from deep within his throat, lapping up what he can and more. Yet, when you look behind you, Argenti’s cock is drooling, flushed, with sticky white tendrils coating his abdomen. His face flushes when you notice, but he doesn’t hide it. “Apologies…” He mutters against your flesh, giving it another kiss before raising your hips and helping you get off.

⎯Sampo Koski

Whatever you need, SAMPO has for you. He prefers to finger you while on your period, but he doesn’t mind full on sex, or even using toys. If he can’t be there when you’re on your period, he’ll make sure you have plenty of toys to keep yourself… company.

Sampo groans softly behind you, his leg thrown over yours as you two spoon, his fingers gliding over your folds. He doesn’t dare push them in, not yet, anyways. As much as you begged him, he wanted to be as difficult as possible, no matter how much you complained how bad the cramps were getting. Despite that, you were shuddering at any long stroke, the way his pointer and middle finger caged your clit in between them, a satisfied hum coming from his throat.

“Mmm…” He moans, grinding against your ass. He still can’t help getting himself off, the sounds of your breath hitching and soft moans as you ask him for more, how can he not get off on that? How selfish of him, really, to abate your pleasure in favor for his… “Feels good, huh?”

The audacity of this man, it’s as if he’s taunting you. Before you can complain, he finally presses both fingers to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles around it. His grinding borders on desperate as he does so, burying the face in the crook of your neck as his eyebrows furrow. The bastard had came before he even gave you the chance to build up… but he doesn’t leave you hanging. As if he felt bad that he had teased you. His fingers sink into your heat, thumb pressed against your clit. He pumps them at a leisurely pace, unhurried still. Sampo’s breath is heavy as he comes down from his high, head still spun up in the need to please. He’ll apologize correctly, he swears, after you cum AT LEAST twice…

⎯ Jing Yuan

JING YUAN is actually quite delighted to have any hand in making you feel better. From making sure you have you painkillers and enough snacks, to making sure your need is sated. He’s quite happy when you ask for sex, and his go to is NORMALLY fingering, but tonight, he’s feeling a little different…

Warm water runs down your back as you press your lips to Jing Yuan’s shoulder, the scent his cologne filling your senses. After a long day of work, he had proposed a shower with you, but now, it had long been forgotten, his large hands placed on your hips as he rolled his own slowly. His cock is pressed between your thighs, dragging against your folds, the head notching against your clit every few seconds. The push and pull makes your head spin, leaning in to him to keep yourself up.

He had been craving you all day, almost too distracted to finish his work. He didn’t know exactly what brought on the sudden bout of clinginess, you were always on his mind, yes, but nothing quite like this. So, when he came home to you, complaining about your cramps, it felt like every aligned, clicked into place. He was quick to comfort you… and more.

He chuckles softly above you as your nails dig into his arms, which was quickly replaced with a low, content moan. He leans his head down, picking up the pace of his thrusts ever so slightly, causing you to gasp. Your thighs tense as pressure rises beneath your stomach, Jing Yuan kept up with the steady pace. Slowly, drag after drag, the pressure builds, and then releases as you shudder, pressed up against him. He guides you through your orgasm, his thrusts slow as he allowed you to come down from your high. He held off his own orgasm, pulling away from you with a soft smiler, an even softer gaze.

⎯ Blade

BLADE may sound reluctant but he’s quite thrilled with the idea. He doesn’t mind fingering you, but he actually quite enjoys giving you head. To have his mouth pressed against you, a towel beneath you, while he works his magic… he could ask for nothing more.

He’s feeling especially ravenous tonight, and has you perched up on the couch, over his face, while he strokes his cock. The other hand holds you by your thigh, letting out low grunts and groans in between sloppy kisses and licks to your pussy. He’s greedy, but unhurried, making sure to let his contentment be known through lewd noises.

He doesn’t say much, as he normally does, simply feasting on whatever he can. Moans escaped him as he continued to stroke himself, hips bucking impatiently. His teeth scrape against your folds every now and then, taking what he wants. He draws out any sounds he can from you, his pace bordering on desperation. His grip tightens on your thigh, watching as you tense every now and then.

Ultimately, your moans become more frequent, Blade’s sloppy eating getting to you as heat surges through your body, your hands gripping the back of the couch. You look down between your legs and meet Blade’s gaze, fiery and passionate. You can’t help but lose yourself in those eyes, even with such a lewd action. He laps up every drop of your essence, letting out a satisfied hum before shifting his attentions to his own cock, desperate to get himself off, as if he was finished. Which, he wasn’t, really. It was the first of many orgasms that night, he’d make sure it was.

⎯ Luocha

Far be it for LUOCHA to deny you pleasure. Especially when you come to him glassy eyed, hands over your stomach, muttering about how you’d do anything to make the cramps go away. He’d do anything to see you smiling again. And when your eyes light up at the suggestion, he’s more than happy to go through with it.

You had asked him for help, and by Aeons, Luocha would make sure you would feel better. He cages you in via a mating press, his hair falling around you like a veil. His eyes are closed and eyebrows furrowed as he moans, pressing as deep into you as he can. His voice was groggy and heavy, only to have just woken up. Yet he was lucid enough to lose himself within you.

He leans in and presses a feverish kiss to your lips, his strokes slow and measured, pausing every time his cock was fully seated in you. At this moment he could care less about the blood on his dick, too tired to control his desires and submitting to some sort of primal urge that welled within him. Luocha, so normally controlled, yet still a slave to desire.

It was early morning, you yourself didn’t know what time exactly. You had just woken up, and for whatever reason you just couldn’t sleep. Unfortunately, your cramps had caught up to you before you could fall asleep, and aside from moaning and groaning in bed, you had woken up Luocha to help, at least not wanting to be alone while it felt like your cramps were eating you alive. He seemed so eager to help, and now that you were beneath him, you understood why.

⎯ Dan Heng

DAN HENG is not adverse to the idea at all, the first time you had asked, he was quick to suggest toys. Any time your cycle comes around and you suggest period sex, he’s got a towel at the ready and a vibrator of your choice picked out.

He sits behind you, eyes transfixed on your sex as he presses a wand up to your clit. His hand rests on your thigh as you buck your hips against the toy, whining softly. You do your best to keep quiet, Dan Heng’s lack of noise making you feel slightly awkward. Yet, he spurs you on in his own quiet way, pressing the wand a little harder against your clit.

His fingers trail from your thigh to your hip, now resting his chin on your shoulder. He listens intently to all the little sounds you make, before whispering silent praises to you. You had already cum twice, your cramps a distant thought by now. But you had asked for more, and Dan Heng would deliver, as always.

Before your orgasm can creep up on you, he pulls the vibrator away from you and shuffles out from behind you. You complain, but he urges you to lay down, rifling through one of your drawers for a box of condoms. He looks back at you with a barely noticeable smirk. Something that told you to hush up and wait…

⎯ Gepard

While GEPARD is hesitant when the suggestion of period sex is proposed, when you tell him that it could help lessen your cramps, he’s rather eager to get started. He finds that his fingers work best, if you two can’t find a condom.

Gepard is quite antsy when you come home, you had texted him that you had had a bad day, and that your cramps were kicking your ass, and he wanted to make it allll better. He had bought you all sorts of treats, flowers, ordered takeout, the list goes on. And when the door opened he had showered you with all sorts of questions, what else he could do to make your day better, how he can help, whatever he could do. One question makes you shake off your bad mood so quickly, though: “Do you want me to get you your vibrator?”

So there you are, sitting across from Gepard, legs open as you press the want to your clit, while he strokes himself slowly. His eyes drop to your folds, his face practically red. He feels… perverted, but he just can’t help himself. Your soft breaths guiding his arousal, eyes darting nervously between your face and to your pussy, then back to your face.

Eventually, he came prematurely, stuttering over his words and muttering apologies after he does, only to be met with a soft sigh from you. He can’t help but watch with rapt fascination, that same flush painting his face continuously. And when you cum, he practically cuddles up to you, peppering kisses across your face and neck, praising you.

⎯ Caelus

You don’t bring up the idea, CAELUS does. He practically begs before you even get the chance to say you’re down. He goes all in, really, depends on what you are feeling like. You want him to eat you out? He’s on his knees. Want him to fuck you? All good with him. He’ll use toys as well, if you aren’t comfortable with any part of him being in you.

He shudders beneath you as his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, groaning softly, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, eyes darting everywhere like he doesn’t know exactly what to look at. You prop yourself up by your hands on his chest, head dipped as every thrust makes you forget all about your woes.

He does his best not to cum, simply the sight of you riding him like that, taking what you want, it feels like it’s too much. He always did his best to make your periods tolerable, if you weren’t down for sex, he’d grab any snack he could, make sure you had a heating pad, pain killers, and whatever else you wanted. But when you were down for sex, Aeons, he could go all night. That’s one perk of housing a stellaron inside of his body.

“F-Fudge, you’re good…” Caelus groans. You can’t help but chuckle softly at the word ‘fudge’, you know exactly where– who– he picked it up from, and he returns your chuckle in kind. He was never one to take sex seriously, and will never, even when it’s something like… fucking your cramps away.

⎯ Welt

Who better to take care of you than WELT YANG? He does not mind the mess at all, whichever way you want him to take you, he will do. He’s on top of everything, the painkillers you need, snacks you’d like, eating pads, the whole thing. And when it comes to you asking him about period sex? He gladly says yes.

“Feeling better?” Welt murmurs against your skin, his fingers sinking into your warm heat. He knew well enough that of course one little movement wouldn’t make your cramps go away. But with how reassuring he had been, and even how quick he was to comply with your request for sex. He had set a towel beneath you, and even brought out a myriad of toys to use if you so wished.

Slowly he pumped his fingers inside you, head resting on your shoulder as he watched his own movements. His gentle smile persists as you moan, melting at his touch. His free hand strokes your back, coaxing you through it with soft words as your walls clamp around his fingers. He draws out each motion for you, slow and deliberate, pressing a kiss to your shoulder with each moan you let out.

Even with his slow movements, you find that your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You press your legs together as if to keep him out, heat curling up beneath your stomach and down your legs. He doesn’t stop, simply nudging your legs open with his free hand, curling his fingers and hitting juuust the right spot. You whine and cum over his fingers, grinding your hips against them weakly. He allows you to ride out your high, that placant smile playing on his lips still.

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innerfare · 8 months ago

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You See His Cabin For The First Time

Summary: You see their cabin (or in Sabo's case, his bedroom at the RA base) for the first time.

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Luffy: He's literally so proud of just his hammock. Insists it can hold the both of you and could probably hold the entire crew if you tried, asks if you want to try, asks you if you’re sure when you say no. Definitely has a couple of dirty dishes that he’s forgotten about, as well as a few wrappers on the floor. Has some fishing poles, a net, quite a few different games, and a bookshelf that’s full of both comic books and snacks so that he doesn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen if he gets hungry in the middle of the night.

Zoro: Your first thought is, why does it smell so freaking good in here? You expected dirty laundry strewn around and the stench of sweat and maybe a hint of metal from those blades he was always sharpening. And sure, there is a hint of metal in the air, probably more from the many weights against the wall than his swords, but it also smells fresh, like laundry detergent. He has his own wanted posters on his wall- not just the current one, but the old ones, too, all of them lined up in order so you can see his increasing bounty. He also has a collection of unique booze bottles from all over the world, his equivalent of keeping a map with pins in the locations he’s visited. Oh, and there’s an anatomy coloring book and some markers that belong to Chopper that Zoro keeps in his room because sometimes when Chopper is having a bad day, he wants to chill with his dad big bro.

Sanji: Sparkling clean, and yet, he’ll apologize anyway because the pillows aren’t fluffy enough, the rug isn’t completely straight, etcetera. His closet is very well organized, all of his clothes ironed and properly taken care of (Sanji’s the rare type to actually read labels and do his laundry accordingly). His most prized possession is a book on the All Blue, which he’s poured over countless times, using color coded tabs to flag various pages and writing detailed notes in the margins. He also came across one of Zeff’s old wanted posters in Loguetown, and he keeps it framed next to his own, the closest thing he has to a family photo.

Usopp: You’re surprised to find he has quite a bit of clutter in his small space. He has a collection of different style slingshots and a surplus of supplies to fix them should they ever break, as well as literal boxes full of special stars and ammunition. He has an entire set up rigged on his desk to create more, and some plants in his windowsill to grow ingredients. In addition, his bookshelves are heavy with various collections of fables and tales; he’s working on his own and hopes to publish it one day, but he doesn’t talk about it because he’s worried nobody will take him seriously, and you only learn about it when you see the notebook he left on his bed. He also has a couple of fun hats, crazy sunglasses, and feather boas that he definitely pulls out when the Straw Hats get a little too drunk. Oh, and there’s a picture of his parents on his nightstand.

Ace: His cabin is pretty sparse because he tends to travel light. He has a collection of animal teeth secured from a menagerie of wild beasts he’s taken down over the years, and he’s very proud of those teeth. He'll tell you about each one if you ask, is practically bursting at the seems with stories. He has way more animal teeth than he does clothing or books. Also has a pretty sick tiger pelt for a rug (he had intended it as a blanket, but he runs so hot he can’t actually sleep with it). He has Luffy’s wanted poster on his wall, and beside it, a note reminding himself to send money back to Dadan on the first of every month. Buried in the chest at the foot of his bed, he has the original ASL flag.

Sabo: His bedroom at the Revolutionary Army’s base is a total bachelor pad, and when you see it for the first time, it wasn’t planned, so he’s a little embarrassed by the state of it. He has some dirty dishes he forgot about, some dirty laundry on the floor, and a pile of books on his bed. He spends virtually no time there and probably wouldn’t even have furniture beyond a mattress on the floor if it wasn’t provided by the Revolutionary Army as part of his living quarters. That being said, he did pin Luffy’s and Ace’s wanted posters to his wall, and he has a couple of different lotions and skincare products on his bathroom counter.

Law: You don’t know what you were expecting- would it be sterile like an operating room? You’re surprised to see comic books and a few action figures. He has some records, too- a bit of rock, some low-key emo music- and to your complete and utter surprise, a candy wrapper on his nightstand. And then there’s the coin collection on his desk, tiny pieces of metal he picked up on his many travels. You’re careful not to have a big reaction to his personality showing through for once.

“I like your action figures.”

“They’re kind of childish, but-”

You cut him off before he can dismiss his own interests as dumb. “No, they’re not. They’re cool.”

Kid: It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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hi bae, can i pls request reader who’s recovering from eating problems and is gaining a bit of weight and gets insecure with poly marauders but they just find her more attractive cause of it

fighting demons rn

🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi sweetheart, apologies for the wait! I was hunting your demons with a crossbow. Thanks for requesting <3

cw: implied past disordered eating, body image issues

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Your favorite high waisted jeans used to sit just so on your hips, practically hanging off your hip bones. Now, they hug your waist, which you try to reason is where they were always meant to be, but it feels so wrong on your body. Everything about your body feels wrong. You jam your fingers in the waistband, and there’s little give. You’re beginning to wonder if you should even bother with these, when you know you’ll eat and they’ll start to bite into your midsection like a punishment. But they’re your favorite jeans.

James comes through on his way to the bathroom with a careless “Hi, lovie,” and you drop your hands from where they’ve been pinching critically at your waist.

“Hi,” you echo halfheartedly.

James pauses, pivoting slightly to give you a curious look. You have an out here, you know. You could fake a smile or feign confusion, and he’d let it go. Perhaps he’d be keeping a closer eye on you today, but James will never push the issue if you don’t feel like talking.

Maybe it’s the option that makes you think it might be nice to externalize.

“I’ve gained weight,” you say plainly. There.

James’ eyebrows shoot up, more surprised at the abruptness of your complaint than the complaint itself. “Well, I should hope so. You’ve been doing really well lately.”

“It’s just,” you sigh, “my jeans don’t fit.”

He gives you a quick look-over, then an odd sort of smile. “They look great to me. Do they not feel right?”

You feel your mouth quirk to the side. A dissatisfied pinch. “They used to feel different.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he says, going into the bathroom. You hear the satisfying schwick of his deodorant cap sliding off. “Do they still sell those same ones?”

You give a tentative nod as he emerges from the bathroom again, and he shrugs at you, a funny scrunch at the bridge of his nose.

“Then get them in a bigger size.”

Not what you want to hear. Not necessarily his fault, either. James doesn’t get it. How could he? The only time James’ body doesn’t look like it was drawn into a superhero comic is the few weeks of off-season where he doesn’t train as hard and gets a bit of pudge around his middle. And even then, it’s a very lovable pudge. James Potter wouldn’t know insecurity if it slept in his bed every night. (Which it does. You do.)

“That’s not the point,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “I just—I liked how these ones looked on me before. Don’t you think I look…different?”

The scrunch migrates from the bridge of his nose to just above it, an unhappy notch between his brows. “Well, yeah. But I mean, I like it.”

You give him a deadpan look.

“I’m being honest.” James holds up his hands. “Really, sweetheart, I didn’t want to—I know talking about your body can be an issue for you, so I didn’t want to bring it up, but you’ve been looking fantastic lately.”

You’re quiet, stuck. You aren’t sure what you’d wanted out of this anymore (validation, maybe?) but you’re not going to get it this way. You only feel bad for putting James in this position. He’s your boyfriend and a good one, he only ever had one way out of this.

“Sorry,” you say, wrapping your arms around your torso, “I didn’t mean to fish for compliments.”

“Hey.” He steps into your space, hooking his fingers through your belt loops to turn you towards him. “You’re not asking for anything I don’t want to give. You look amazing, I mean it.” Your eyes fall to his chest and he stoops to follow them, dark brows rising incredulously. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You sigh. “I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Can we not—”

“Nope.” James lets go of one of your belt loops but keeps a firm hold on the other. “Sorry, no longer an option.” He begins tugging you out of the room. Your hips follow disloyally, and though you wrap your hands around his wrist, he holds fast.

“James, come on.” You give a little resistance, but he drags you doggedly onward. You could tear away if you commit to it, but these really are your favorite jeans and James is just as likely to take your belt loop with him.

In the living room, Sirius is mending a pair of James’ trousers while Remus does the crossword, which involves him reading the clues aloud and Sirius firing off unrelated and too-long words until Remus gets it himself. Remus hears your protest first, brows rising as James brings you into the room.

“What’s going on?” he asks, somewhat warily.

“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s lovely,” James says, like Can you believe it? Remus blinks and Sirius’ eyes flit up from his work, one brow quirking.

“That’s not what I said,” you defend.

He releases you, and you step away, crossing your arms over your midsection. “Go on, then.” James sounds truly encouraging, though dubious. “Tell us how lovely you are, angel.”

You roll your eyes. It’s difficult not to feel frivolous when they put you on the spot like this. “I was only saying that I don’t like the fit of my jeans now.”

If you hadn’t had Sirius’ full attention already, you do now. He sets down James’ trousers, beckoning you forward, “C’mere, let’s see.”

You go to stand between his legs, dread coiled like a snake around your ribcage that only squeezes tighter at the unflinching intensity of Sirius’ gaze while he analyzes your face.

You look down to escape it, sticking your thumb into the waistband of your jeans. “Look, they’ve gotten small—”

“I can see for myself,” he says softly, moving your hand out of the way and replacing your thumb with his own slender fingers. They’re cool against your abdomen. He slides them around to the side of your waist, tugging experimentally at the denim. “Gorgeous, these fit great. This is exactly where you’d usually want them to be. What’s the issue?”

“It’s just—they don’t—” You feel more and more ridiculous by the second, and you can’t figure out if you’re frustrated with yourself or with them for that. “They used to sit lower, and now I—I just feel like I look weird.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” James insists, seating himself on the coffee table and setting his elbows on his knees. Sirius nudges your ankle with his foot, silent encouragement to sit between him and Remus. You comply. “You don’t look weird, sweetheart, you’re—listen, you’ve always been beautiful, but lately, it’s like—you’re just, you’re stunning.”

You shrink from the compliment, face humiliatingly warm. “Thanks, Jamie, but you have to say that.”

“No, he’s right,” Remus chimes in. He sounds so matter-of-fact, as if he’s simply recounting how traffic was on the way home from work today. “You don’t look the same as you did before, true, but it’s not a bad change. You’re just not used to seeing yourself healthy, is all.”

“Exactly.” James throws up his palms, relieved.

You consider this. It was warped perspective that had gotten you into this mess. Maybe you’re still not seeing things clearly quite yet.

Sirius wraps a hand around the inside of your thigh, tugging it over one of his. “Babe, if these jeans are evidence of anything, it’s that you’re finally growing into the size you were always supposed to be. If you eventually have to get a larger pair, then fine. It still won’t mean anything about you. You’re exactly right, understand?”

You nod, feeling thoroughly chastened, and Sirius grins. His fingertips dig into your thigh as he leans over to kiss your cheek.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you can’t see it,” James says, looking pleased to have some validation from the other boys. “You’re radiant, lovie, your skin is glowing, you look happier—really, you’ve never been more lovely.”

“It helps that we know you’re doing better, too,” Remus says, a bit quieter. “Frailty doesn’t suit you, dove. It’s…I love you no matter what, but it does make it easier when you’re kind to yourself. Feels more like we’re on the same team.”

“Thanks,” you say softly, then once more for good measure. “Thanks, guys.”

“Told you already,” James says, “you’re not asking for anything we don’t want to give.”

“You liked it when these jeans fit a bit saggier, showed more skin, yeah?” Sirius asks. You nod with a shrug. It doesn’t feel quite so important now. “We can do that. We’ll get you the same ones, if you want, or another pair that might sit a bit more on your hips.” He gives your thigh a squeeze through your jeans. “Gotta show off this bod, right, babydoll?”

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calypsocolada · 5 months ago

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BAD ADVICE | s. nagi

synopsis: nagi gives you terrible advice... authors note: boy am I punctual. this series is so fun to write. i hope you all enjoy! I have one last part planned with isagi as the main li so... that will probably be out this weekend sometime :) wc: 3.2k cw: fluff, possibly ooc!nagi click here for my masterlist!

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You’d been rotting in your bed for the past few hours. The embarrassing moment replaying over and over again. You pulled your pillow over your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You could kill Seishiro Nagi. Actually strangle him for the irreparable damage he has done to you.

There was a boy you liked in school. He was a grade above you. He was aloof and reserved, tall and handsome. You’d gone to a few of his soccer matches at school and when you’d watch him play your heart would soar through the roof of your mouth, an embarrassing display as your eyes lit up. You liked him a lot. And it just so happened that he played on the same team as a childhood friend, Nagi. You’d known Nagi for years… you played in the sandbox with him. He was your first kiss during hide and seek when you were eight. You had a crush on him for the longest time but… your feelings didn’t really seem reciprocated since he sort of treated you like a little sister. He lived two houses over and sometimes you would ride home with him and vice versa. You had a history, a long history. Nagi would help you… surely.

You clambered down to the field as the boys soccer team ran off. The boy you liked walked at a leisurely pace, he hadn’t even broken a sweat during the game. Your heart swooned just at the sight. You stepped in his path, hoping to introduce yourself when suddenly an arm slung around your shoulders, pulling you a bit off kilter. You fell into Nagi.

“Hey, take me home.” He yawns, practically hanging off of you. You watched the boy you like stroll by and huffed.

“Hey take me home please.” You corrected sharply as Nagi just laughed.

“Yeah, please.” He adds more as an appeasement than anything. You sighed, you missed your chance, again.

“Come on then.” You groaned and stalked off towards the parking lot, Nagi’s hot body still glued to yours. You pushed at him. “Come on, let go! You’re all sweaty.”

“Did you watch me play?” He asks, ignoring your words. “That final goal?” To be honest your eyes were glued to his teammate the entire time so…

“I missed it.” You said and felt the tall boy slump against you.

“Seriously? What’re you doing in those stands?” He asks, you weren’t going to answer that truthfully because it’s Nagi that’s been asking you to come to his games and if you told him you were distracted that would probably hurt his feelings.

“I’m sorry, you guys were crushing the other team so I went to get a pretzel.” You lie and luckily Nagi seems satiated by that.

“Didn’t save me any?” He teased, hand sliding in your coat pocket. You gasped, giggling as you smacked his hand away.

“No! I didn’t!”

“How inconsiderate.” He groaned, leaning on you so heavily he about took you both to the concrete.

“Nagi!” You barked, hand sliding around his hip to stabilize you both. “You’re like a horse sized sloth!” That made Nagi laugh slightly, holding up some of his own weight as he ruffled your hair.

“You owe me dinner.” He said as you fished out your car keys. You looked at him incredulously as he unlatched himself from you, walking off to the passenger side.

“I don’t owe you anything.” You barked.

“Don’t be a hassle. You missed my cool shot then rubbed your pretzel in my face.”

“I didn’t-“ you were cut off by Nagi slipping in and shutting the door to your car. You groaned as you yanked your door open. “You’re an ass.”

“And calling me names.” Nagi replies drowsily as he leans back in the seat, already closing his eyes.

“You’re impossible.” You huffed, turning on your car. Nagi was out by the time you turned out of the parking lot and slept soundly the short drive home. When you pulled into your driveway he perked up.

“Hey… what happened to getting food?” He asked, voice soft from sleep.

“Snooze you lose.” You say, flicking off your car. Nagi pouts as you get out of the car.

“Your mom home?” He asks as you roll your eyes.

“She’s not, so no poaching our dinner.”

“Your house has good snacks.” He points out, slipping out of your car following you to your front door.

“You’re like a parasite, latching onto me.” You huff but let him follow you inside anyways. After cooking some instant noodles you and Nagi sit on the couch, leisurely watching something he picked. Some game tournaments he found on YouTube.

“So… you’re teammate… Rin… does he have— someone?” You ask, trying to sound natural but failing as Nagi looks over at you with a strange face.

“Have someone?” He echoes, a sort of amused expression forming. You looked away instantly, blushing.

“I’m asking for a friend.” You say but the words sound silly even to your ears.

“A friend, huh? Which one? It’s not the mean one right? Cause I think Isagi’s got a thing for her-”

“Stop calling her the mean one. And she would be mean if she heard you say that.” You replied. “Now can you answer the question?”

“I don’t know. He barely talks.” Nagi answers, taking a large bite of his noodles, spilling a bit of the broth in his shirt. “Boring sort of guy.”

“He doesn’t seem boring.”

“Is that so?” Nagi prods and you catch yourself, blushing. “You know I’m starting to think I know this friend better than I thought.”

“Shut up.”

“Jeez, seriously?” Nagi sits up, setting his bowl on the coffee table. “Y/n…” he almost sounded disappointed.

“What!” You chirped, embarrassed.

“You’re not slick.” Nagi yawns.

“Okay… whatever… I’m the friend.” You shrug.

“Yeah, I know. But Itoshi? Really? Have you ever even spoken to him before?”

“No! You keep interjecting.” You groan. Nagi’s quiet for a moment as you look over at him. He runs a hand through his hair.

“You want my help?”

“…Yes.” You concede.

“Go all out. Put yourself out there. The dudes gloomy, he might like it.” Nagi sighs. You sit up slightly.

“You think so?” You ask as Nagi shrugs his shoulders. “Alright… thanks for the advice.”

Famous last words. Things did not go to plan whatsoever. You did as Nagi said. You went all out and in return you got hit with ‘who’re you?’. Probably top three most embarrassing moments of your life. The worst part of it was… Rin was right. You hadn’t talked to him much if at all. You built this fantasy up in your head and jumped at the smallest lifeboat Nagi had given you only for it to sink under your weight. Why the hell would someone as aloof and quiet as Rin Itoshi like a big show of affection? You felt like an idiot for even believing in Nagi.

“Okay… yeah it was embarrassing but seriously it’s fine, Y/n. Everyone will forget by Monday.” A friend of yours reassured you over the phone later that night, the mean one as Nagi had so lovingly called her.

“You didn’t see it, the silence in the hallway… god I won’t be able to sleep.”

“You’re dramatic.” Your friend huffed. “Look, you put yourself out there, how many people can say they did that?”

“I shouldn’t have done it at all! God I’m such an idiot. I bet Rin and Nagi are laughing it up as we speak. Especially Nagi, that Judas.” You hissed as your friend laughed.

“I don’t even think Rin Itoshi knows how to laugh. Besides, I'm not sure why you would listen to Nagi’s advice in the first place.”

“He’s a childhood friend! I thought he’d have my back.”

“Maybe he thought it would work.” You could hear the well restrained laughter in her tone. You sat up.

“You’ve seen Isagi today, right? Did he say anything?” You knew it was a stretch. Your friend and Isagi had a sort of… rocky relationship. One you really didn’t understand. Nagi assumed Isagi had a thing for your friend and although that could be true your friend felt very strong negative emotions towards him.

“Do you want me to hit you? The only reason I talk to that know-it-all ball kicker is for student council purposes.” She returned sharply. Yeah… it was a stretch.

“I’m not sure what you and Isagi do could be considered as talking but-“

“I mean it. I will hit you.”

“I believe you.” You smirked, glad you had called your friend because she had helped you cheer up at least a little bit. Your front doorbell chimed as you startled. Your mom was working late and it was too late for any of the neighbors. “Hey, I’ll call later.” You said, hanging up the phone. You tossed it on your bed and winded your way through the house towards the front door. All you could hear was the gentle pats of rain just outside the door. You peered through the peephole and sighed heavily as you spotted Nagi outside the door. He was the absolute last person you wanted to talk to right now. You turned, pressing your back to the door, closing your eyes as the events of today played in your mind again. It reignited that fire as you whipped around, yanking the door open. Nagi startled at the suddenness of the door.

“You absolute asshole!” You growled, reaching and yanking the tall boy into your house. Nagi was wet from the rain, his hair wet like a dogs as she slammed the door shut behind him.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?’ Nagi asked as you whirled on him.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!” You parroted as Nagi stared at you, blinking and confused. “You didn’t hear? I’m sure I was the laughing stock of school.”

“Didn’t hear what?” Nagi asked calmly, in fact his nonchalance had you seconds away from ripping the hair from his head.

“Your advice! It fucking sucked!” You hissed as Nagi raised a brow and pursed his lips in thought. He had no idea what you were talking about. “I’m surprised the boys on your team weren’t talking about it.” You threw up your hands in defeat.

“Most of the guys skipped today because of the weather. I stayed for a bit but got sick of listening to Isagi flirt with that mean friend of yours.” Nagi groaned, pushing past you as he stripped off his jacket, kicking off his shoes.

“What’re you doing?” You asked incredulously. “You aren’t welcome here!”

“Did you make anything for dinner?” Nagi asked over his shoulder, ignoring you as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Seishiro Nagi.” You growled, that stopped him in his tracks. He looked back with a stricken look on his face.

“Geez, what’s wrong?” He asked, you slowly approached him with a strained smile.

“The advice you gave me about Rin was shit. I put myself out there and he turned me down.”

“I could’ve told you that.” Nagi shrugged. You grabbed the front of his shirt.

“I have had it up to here with you. Please get the fuck out.” You hissed, seething with anger. Nagi stared at you for a moment, it was possible he was deciding if you were actually angry or messing with him but when you didn’t crack a smile he finally understood the seriousness. He reached up and placed a gentle, warm hand over yours.

“Sorry. I thought you were-... What happened? I didn’t hear anything at school.” He explained calmly. You yanked your hand out of his.

“It’s like I said! You gave me shit advice and I completely embarrassed myself in front of most of the school, Nagi. It was humiliating.” You fumed, cheeks blushing at the memory of it.

“So he turned you down, so what?”

“So what?” You echoed, running a hand down your face. “You know what. Forget it. You don’t understand. Please just leave.” You waved your hand in defeat as he caught your hand again.

“I… don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”

“I like him, Nagi! And now I've completely embarrassed myself in front of him… he’ll never look at me the same.”

“He didn’t look at you before.”

“Are you actively trying to make me never speak to you again?”

“You never talked to him before, Y/n. You’ve only seen him play. Who cares what he thinks?”

“I care!” You groan as he suddenly tugs you to him, you stumble slightly, surprised.

“He’s nothing! Sure he’s good at soccer but he’s a maniac about the sport. He’s a hassle. He wouldn’t be good for you anyways.” Nagi explains and you can’t remember the last time he seemed so… passionate about something. He always seemed chill, cool headed. He was heating up the same as you.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” You pushed away from him and this time he didn’t reach for you again. “Just please go.” He stared at you and you couldn’t find it in yourself to meet his eyes. Not this time. There was something different in the air between you both.

“I’m sorry.” Nagi said softly. You swallowed, your eyes shooting up to meet him. You didn’t expect an apology from him. You had expected him to leave. “I gave you shit advice.” You almost laughed, but your dramatics couldn’t let you find humor in this moment. “On purpose.” He finished as your lips fell open in surprise.

“What?” You asked, taking a step towards him.

“I did it on purpose.” He repeated.

“I heard you. Why would you do that?” You asked sharply, eyes searching his guilty face. Nagi sighed exhaustedly.

“I didn’t think you’d ask him so publicly.”

“Nagi.” You admonished as he sighed again.

“Do you really not know?” He asked, running a hand over his face as he leaned against the wall, all long legs and dramatics.

“Know what?”

“Come on. Aren’t I supposed to be the oblivious one?” He asked and you wanted to pinch him. He sighed once again. “This is such a hassle.”

“You love that word.” You grumbled annoyed.

“I invite you to all my games. I try to have dinner with you whenever I can. I ride with you to school as often as possible.” He lists off.

“Okay?”

“Okay?” He mocks as you narrow your eyes. “I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you since we were eight. Seriously? You didn’t know?” He throws up his hands in frustration. You blinked. And blinked again. You sucked in a breath, almost forgetting how to breathe. You stared at him, processing everything he just said.

“You annoy the shit out of me! You gave me shit advice because you like me! Why didn’t you just say you liked me!” You argued, reaching over and pinching him. He jumps, sucking in a gasp at your pinch.

“Ouch!” He whined, rubbing the spot. You didn’t pinch him that hard as you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to ruin things by up and telling you… I was-- trying to find a romantic moment!” He argued back.

“Romantic moment?” You echoed.

“Uh huh! I was hoping you’d see my sick goal last night and I’d run over and tell you.” He explains and you can’t help it, you dissolve into laughter.

“Geez, how romantic.” You breathe out in between giggles. Nagi just stares down at you, red faced and pouting.

“There… there’s been so many times I’ve wanted to tell you… but it never seemed right. Then you started talking about Rin and I just…” Nagi sighs, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you. If… if you want I can talk with him.”

“You’d do that?” You ask, voice soft. He met your eyes and the hurt that lined them was palpable, but he nodded his head.

“It’s the least I can do.”

You thought about letting him squirm but the hurt in his eyes was too much. You didn’t have the heart to tease him or play with his heart, not when he’d been such a good friend to you most of your life.

“Forget it.” You waved slightly. “You're right. I don’t really know him.” His eyes found yours and for the first time you felt something charge in the air. You hadn’t thought about Nagi as more than a friend for the longest time but… something about it had your heart speeding. “Nagi?”

“Hm?”

“Are you serious? About liking me?” You asked as Nagi’s cheeks blushed, despite his effort to keep a cool facade. He nodded his head and suddenly the hall you two were arguing in felt tighter. You averted your eyes and chewed softly on your bottom lip. There had never really been an awkward moment between you and Nagi before but right now it was unbearable.

“Is that… okay?”

“Uh huh.” You hummed nervously, fiddling with your hands. You couldn’t look up at him, you just couldn’t. This was the second most embarrassing thing to happen today. “Are you gonna look at me?” He asked and you could hear the smirk on his tone. He shouldn’t be the one smirking, he should be the nervous one! He was the one that confessed after all! Your eyes shot up to meet him. Sure enough he was smirking. Damn him.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“You’re blushing.”

“You’re blushing!” You argued, pointing at his face but again he caught your hand and this time when he tugged you forwards his other hand slid across your cheek into your hair. You knew enough to close your eyes as his lips crashed assuredly into yours. Nagi was a lot of things, he was lazy most of the time. Tired and annoying. And you weren’t sure if he’d ever kissed anyone before but… he kissed exactly how he played on that field, like a pro. What an ass! He was good at everything. He pulled you closer and pressed your back into the wall kissing you as though he’d die if he parted from your lips. It was a lightheaded inducing kiss. You had three kisses in your life. Of course Nagi when you were eight but… it was less than a peck. Then there was the boy from middle school who kissed you during a dance. That was little more than a peck. Then the boy you dated two years ago. He moved away two weeks after your one year anniversary. He was a good kisser, though you had nothing at the time to weigh it against. Now… you did. That boy before… was nothing like Nagi. It felt weird to even think about it since you two had been friends for so long but… really. This was… something different. This was the kind of kiss that pop girls wrote about in their love songs. The kind of kiss you’d dream about for years to come.

“Where’s your head at?” Nagi asked against your lips, his voice low and breathy, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I’m thinking… you need to kiss me again.”

“Mhm,” He hummed amusedly, nodding his head. “Yes ma’am.”

#blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #bllk x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #fem reader #soccer trio series

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cup1drul3z · 2 months ago

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★ — stone and steel - ch 1

ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ʙᴏꜱꜱ!ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

CW : mafia, age gap, kiddnaping, drug use, underage drinking, age gap, read is 18, sevika is 38, toxic (?), reader does molly, mel is here

A/N : i orginally abandoned this fic but i decided to push through and finish it

"Come on, Sevika! Just a few drinks?" Jinx whined, practically hanging off Sevika’s shoulders like a restless child.

Sevika grunted, shoving her off with little effort. "I have work," she said flatly, rubbing her temples. "Some smugglers got caught up with Silco last night. Now I have to clean up their mess."

Jinx groaned dramatically, flopping backward against the desk with a huff. "Ugh, fine. But you’re missing out," she sing-songed, twirling a lock of blue hair around her finger. She leaned in with a mischievous smirk. "Invite's open if you change your minddddd—" she dragged out the last word before skipping toward the door. "Don't work yourself to death, grumpy."

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Sevika in the dim glow of her desk lamp.

She sighed, rolling her shoulders before reaching for the cigar resting in the ashtray. The flame flickered as she lit it, the first inhale grounding her in a moment of quiet. The weight of responsibility pressed against her chest, but she couldn’t afford to slip—not now.

Her gaze dropped to the folder on her desk. Thick, worn edges from too many times flipping through it. She opened it again anyway.

A set of photos stared back at her. You.

A copy of your birth certificate. Documents detailing your life like an open book—where you lived, habits, routines, places you frequented. She somehow even got her hands on nudes. You weren’t just some random mark. You were his daughter. Silco’s.

Sevika exhaled, smoke curling in the air above her. The Veiled Eye had been a thorn in her side for too long, and this was the key. You were the key.

But as much as she hated to admit it, her interest wasn’t just strategic.

She traced a calloused finger over the corner of one of your photos. You didn’t look exactly like him, but the resemblance was there. Strong features, sharp eyes. Yet there was something else—something that made her hesitate.

Something that made her stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with business.

Sevika scowled and snapped the folder shut.

Shit.

This was supposed to be about leverage, about power. So why the hell was she so damn drawn to you?

She took another drag of her cigar, exhaling slowly.

Maybe a drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

You brought the vape to your lips, inhaling deeply, the burn trailing down your throat before you exhaled a slow cloud of smoke.

"Hey, so like… your dad isn’t gonna kill me for doing this, right?" Mel asked, shimmying into her dress—a white and gold sparkly number that hugged her just right.

You sighed, turning away from your vanity mirror to shoot her a look over your shoulder. "Mel, if you keep asking that, I’m gonna kill myself," you deadpanned, blowing out another stream of vapor as you spoke.

She giggled, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Do you have the fake IDs?"

Walking over, she leaned down, resting her chin on your shoulder as you reached into the vanity drawer. Underneath a mess of half-used makeup products, you fished out two laminated cards and handed hers over.

"Oh, shit," she snickered, flipping it between her fingers. "I look hot."

You smirked, dabbing contour along the bridge of your nose. "Obviously."

Mel watched you for a second before grabbing a brush and blending the lines with expert precision. "Okay, you need to blend—there, perfect," she said, admiring her work.

You grinned, tilting your head from side to side in the mirror. "Damn, I’m so cute."

Mel huffed a laugh, bumping her hip against yours. "Yeah, yeah. Now let’s go before I start overthinking this whole 'pissing off your crime-lord father' thing again."

Jinx giggled as Ekko’s hands settled at her waist, pulling her closer until her back pressed against his chest. The bass of the music thumped through the club, matching the slow sway of their hips. They needed this—needed to be together, even if it was in the middle of a crowd.

Sevika had been harsher than usual the past week, and it was putting a strain on both of them. A month of no progress on you had made her temper even worse, and she took it out on everyone. The tension had started creeping into their relationship, weighing on them like a storm cloud.

Jinx tilted her head as Ekko buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Her fingers traced the back of his neck absentmindedly, grounding herself in his touch. The music shifted, the rhythm growing faster, the crowd getting more restless. She turned in his arms, pressing her lips near his ear.

“Let’s go sit at the bar,” she whispered.

Ekko nodded, and without another word, she grabbed his hand, weaving through the mass of bodies until they reached the counter.

She leaned against it, tapping her nails on the surface. “Can I get a margarita?”

The bartender nodded, then glanced at Ekko for his order.

“A Bloody Mary, please.” His hand never left Jinx’s hip, fingers drumming lazily against the fabric of her dress.

Jinx turned toward him, ready to make some snide remark, when a voice cut through the noise—smooth, effortless, and way too familiar.

“Can I have a Mai Tai?”

Jinx froze.

Her body stiffened, fingers tightening around Ekko’s arm as if to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. The voice—your voice—was one she’d heard countless times on recordings. She’d studied it so much she could pick it out in an instant. And now, here it was, right next to her.

Almost comically, Jinx turned her head.

And there you were.

Leaning against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle, looking effortlessly stunning in a midnight blue bodycon dress. It clung to you in all the right places, long sleeves adding an elegant touch, while just enough cleavage peeked out to make Jinx’s brain short-circuit.

She must’ve been staring too long because your eyes met hers, curiosity flickering across your face.

“Uh… can I help you?” you asked, raising a brow.

Jinx stammered, forcing a smile. “Sorry—I, uh—I just really love your dress.”

She squeezed Ekko’s bicep—hard. He understood immediately. Without hesitation, he slipped away into the crowd, already pulling out his phone.

You grinned, completely oblivious. “Thanks! I got it at this little boutique downtown. I think it was Audrey’s or something?” You giggled, accepting your drink from the bartender.

Jinx nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah! I’ve been there. Love their shoes.” She was stalling.

Across the club, Ekko was already halfway to the exit, Sevika’s contact pulled up.

The phone barely rang once before she picked up. “What?” Her voice was already irritated.

Ekko didn’t bother with pleasantries. “She’s here.”

A pause. Then, a sharp, “What?”

“That chick you’ve been stalking! She’s here, at the club!” He had to yell over the music.

On the other end, Sevika went silent. Then—“Are you fucking with me?”

Ekko rolled his eyes. “No, dude. Just—just get here. Now. Jinx is stalling her!”

He hung up before she could respond, shoving his phone into his pocket as he made his way back to the bar.

Meanwhile, Jinx was doing everything she could to keep you from leaving.

“Oh, yeah, and they just got this new—uh, limited-edition collection—”

You gave her a polite smile, shifting your weight. “Right, well, it was nice meeting you, but—”

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long?”

Mel.

You turned just as your best friend appeared at your side, looking mildly annoyed—until she caught sight of Jinx.

Her expression faltered, eyes flickering with recognition. “Oh.”

Jinx went rigid.

Mel’s fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Okay, lady, we’re gonna go—”

You groaned, laughing as she pulled you away. “Mel! That was so rude!”

Jinx barely heard you. Her heart was still racing.

Ekko reappeared at her side, watching you disappear into the crowd. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That was Ambessa’s daughter, wasn’t it?” he muttered.

Jinx swallowed hard, still staring after you.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

And she had no idea what the hell to do next.

Jinx and Ekko searched the club, pushing past sweaty bodies and scanning every darkened corner, but you were nowhere to be found. By the time Sevika arrived, they had nothing to show for it except frustration.

"You lost her?" Sevika's voice was sharp, barely restrained.

Jinx crossed her arms. "It’s not like she was on a damn leash, Sev," she muttered, avoiding the older woman’s glare.

But before Sevika could tear into them, Ekko hesitantly spoke up. "There's something else."

Sevika turned to him, eyes narrowing. "What?"

Ekko exchanged a glance with Jinx before saying, "Mel Medarda—she was with her."

Sevika stilled, her expression flipping like a switch. Mel. Ambessa Medarda’s daughter.

Jinx watched as realization set in, as frustration twisted into something more calculated. Sevika wasn’t just after you because of Silco—she was trying to dismantle his empire, and if Ambessa's daughter was tangled up in this, that changed things.

The next day, Sevika found herself on a tense phone call with Ambessa Medarda herself.

"Does your daughter know what you really do?" Sevika asked, voice edged with suspicion.

There was silence on the other end at first. Then, Ambessa scoffed, her tone guarded. "Why do you care?"

Sevika leaned back in her chair, fingers drumming on the desk beside your file. "Because if she does, that makes things… complicated."

Another pause. Then, a begrudging admission. "Mel doesn’t know. She stays out of my affairs."

Sevika exhaled slowly. That was something, at least. If Mel was in the dark, that meant Sevika's own organization—the Iron Fangs—was safe from her meddling. And more importantly, it meant you wouldn’t get any inside information to pass back to Silco.

"Good," Sevika muttered before hanging up.

She let the phone drop onto the desk, rubbing her temples. This is getting us nowhere, she thought, frustration mounting. It had been over a month, and they were no closer to using you against Silco.

Before she could spiral further, the door swung open.

Violet and Caitlyn Kiramman stepped inside, followed closely by Jinx and Ekko.

"We couldn’t find her in any of the places you told us," Caitlyn said, her voice cautious.

Sevika’s glare snapped to her. "How do I know you two weren’t off making out instead of doing your damn job?" she asked, her tone laced with poison.

Caitlyn’s face flushed, but before she could respond, Violet stepped forward, jaw tight. "Don’t talk to her like that."

Jinx sighed, already seeing where this was going, and quickly tugged Violet back. "Alright, relax, both of you." She shot Sevika a look before turning to the desk. "We bribed one of her friends, and she mentioned a bunch of their friends were going to the State Festival on Saturday."

Sevika raised an eyebrow. "And you think she’ll be there?"

Jinx shrugged. "It’s a lead, isn’t it?" She pulled a folded flyer from her pocket and slapped it onto Sevika’s desk. The bold, colorful letters read: Annual State Festival – Music, Drinks, & More!

Caitlyn crossed her arms. "We’re going to split up and try to find her."

Sevika didn’t hesitate. "I’m coming with you."

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Violet tensed, already looking like she wanted to argue, but Caitlyn touched her arm, shaking her head. Jinx just smirked.

"Fine by me," she said. "Hope you know how to have fun, Sev."

Sevika scoffed, picking up the flyer and glancing it over.

This is it, she thought. If she shows up, she’s ours.

You lay sprawled out on your back, sinking into the plush comfort of your oversized bed. Your room was nothing short of gorgeous—high ceilings, warm lighting, and every luxury a girl could ask for. A vanity cluttered with makeup sat in the corner, a sleek computer perched on your desk, and to top it off, a fully stocked mini-fridge, currently missing one pint of ice cream.

Mel was draped across your stomach, her head resting just below your ribs as she stared at the ceiling. You absentmindedly scooped another bite of ice cream, the cold sweetness melting on your tongue as she huffed dramatically.

"And she said ‘Mel doesn’t know’ like—what the fuck does that even mean?!" Mel groaned, throwing an arm over her face.

You licked the spoon, barely suppressing a smirk. "Maybe she’s sending you to boarding school," you teased.

Mel lifted her head just enough to glare at you. "That’s not funny."

You giggled, poking her side. "Listen, hotstuff, if you talk about Ambessa one more time, I swear to God, I will light myself on fire."

Mel scoffed, rolling off of you and sitting up. “Dramatic much?”

You grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as she got to her feet and wandered over to your vanity. She turned slightly, tilting her head as she checked her reflection, smoothing out the already perfect waves of her hair.

"So," you drawled, taking another bite of ice cream. "Did you decide if you’re going to the festival tonight?"

She met your gaze in the mirror, her lips pursed like she was pretending to contemplate it.

"Mm. Maybe," she said, adjusting the straps of her dress. "Are you going?"

That was the real question.

Because if you were going, Mel definitely was.

"Mom! I'm not coming home until you tell me everything!" Mel shouted into her phone, pacing just outside the parking lot, her free hand clenched into a fist.

A few feet away, you stood in front of a guy draped in baggy clothes, his grin sharp and lazy. Behind him loomed a couple of buffer guys, their faces inked with bold tattoos that twisted under the neon glow of a flickering streetlight.

"Heeeyyy, short stack," the guy drawled, flashing a gold-toothed smirk. "You partying with us tonight?" His excitement seemed genuine, almost affectionate in that detached, dealer-kind-of-way.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "I'll come by if I remember."

He snickered, slapping your palm in a casual handshake before slipping a small baggie into it. Inside, two little pink pills with smiley faces stared back at you. "Have a nice night," he said, giving you a solid fist bump before stepping back into the shadows of the lot.

"Don't be a stranger!" he called as you turned away, his voice echoing in the humid night air.

By the time you reached Mel, she had hung up, shoving her phone deep into the pocket of her low-rise jeans—ripped at the thighs, matching yours almost perfectly.

"What did you get?" she asked, her tone light but eyes flicking toward the tiny bag in your grasp.

You grinned, holding it up between two fingers. "Ecstasy." With a flick, you popped the seal and tipped one of the pills onto your palm. No hesitation. You placed it on your tongue and let it sit there for a second before swallowing.

Mel took the baggie and fished out the other pill, already unscrewing the lid of her water bottle—filled to the brim with vodka. "Wash it down," she offered with a smirk.

You took a swig, grimacing at the harsh burn as it slid down your throat. "Jesus Christ, your mom didn’t notice this much vodka missing?"

Mel just grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. "Not yet… but she will. I cut her bottle with water."

You snorted as she slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close as the two of you made your way toward the fair entrance.

"You better not snitch on me," you muttered, exhaling sharply. "Silco doesn’t even know I’m here."

Mel glanced at you, her amusement dimming just slightly. "He didn’t notice you leaving? I know your house is littered with security cameras." She giggled, but there was curiosity there too.

You rolled your eyes. "He’s been super busy. He doesn’t know, but I went down this rabbit hole on Reddit, and it was… weird."

The fair stretched out in front of you, the air thick with the scent of buttery popcorn and spun sugar. The chaotic hum of the crowd mixed with the distant, shrill screams from the rides, blending into a dizzying buzz of energy.

"There’s this underground mafia that’s super powerful, and I think he’s worried…" you trailed off, your mind still tangled in everything you’d read.

Mel gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Let’s not think about that tonight!" she beamed. "Let the molly kick in, and let’s go on some rides!"

With a squeal, she grabbed your hand and took off, pulling you toward the nearest ride, her laughter getting lost in the neon lights and electric pulse of the fairground.

Mel’s grip on your wrist was firm as she dragged you toward the nearest ride—a towering contraption of spinning swings. The metal structure groaned as it lifted screaming riders high into the air, their legs kicking out wildly as the ride picked up speed.

"C’mon, this one first!" Mel grinned, practically bouncing on her feet as she led the way.

You hesitated for only a second, the molly’s warmth beginning to stir in your chest. Your limbs felt lighter, your skin hyper-aware of the night air kissing against it. The fairground lights stretched into soft, neon halos, like the world had been dipped in something hazy and electric.

You both climbed into your seats, the metal bar locking across your lap with a sharp click. As the ride lurched into motion, you felt the weightlessness take over, the world spinning beneath you. Wind whipped against your skin, the fair becoming a blur of laughter, music, and flashing colors. Mel let out a wild scream, throwing her hands up, and you couldn’t help but do the same, the rush of adrenaline mixing seamlessly with the euphoria creeping into your veins.

By the time you stumbled off, dizzy and breathless, Mel was already pulling you toward the next attraction—a rickety-looking roller coaster that seemed one bolt away from collapsing. The two of you barely managed to shove the safety bar down before it jerked into motion, the rickety track rattling beneath you.

You didn’t even have time to scream before you were thrown into the first drop.

Everything blurred together—the chaotic mix of highs, the rush of the wind, the tight grip of Mel’s hand on yours as you flew through loops and turns. The laughter came easily, the worries you had earlier fading into the pulsating energy of the fair.

Then came the teacups.

By now, the molly was hitting full force. The world around you felt brighter, softer, like everything was breathing with you. The colorful lights of the fair pulsed in time with the distant music, and every little sound—laughter, the whir of the rides, the shuffle of footsteps—felt amplified, woven together in a strange, beautiful harmony.

You and Mel climbed into one of the oversized teacups, the painted ceramic glossy under the neon glow. As the ride started, you both gripped the wheel in the center, spinning it as fast as you could until the world around you became a swirl of colors.

The teacup spun lazily now, the initial rush of dizziness settling into something dreamlike. The fairground lights stretched and blurred at the edges of your vision, glowing softer, warmer, like the whole world had been dipped in neon honey. The music from the rides pulsed faintly in the background, each beat thrumming through your chest like a second heartbeat.

Mel leaned back against the curved wall of the teacup, her pupils wide, lips parted in an easy, dazed smile. "Holy shit," she breathed, stretching her arms over her head. "This feels insane."

You let out a slow laugh, resting your head against the back of the seat. "Yeah. Feels like we’re floating."

For a while, neither of you spoke, letting the high settle, the world spinning in slow motion around you. The fair’s chaotic energy felt distant, like you were sitting in the eye of a storm—untouchable, weightless.

Then Mel sighed, her fingers drumming absently against her knee. "So… about my mom."

Something about her tone made your stomach twist. You blinked sluggishly, turning your head toward her. "What about her?"

Mel hesitated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. "That mafia you were talking about?" she muttered, voice quieter now. "The one Silco’s worried about?"

The hazy warmth in your chest cooled slightly. A small ripple of unease broke through the molly’s euphoric haze.

"Yeah?" you said slowly.

Mel exhaled through her nose, eyes flicking away as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to see your reaction. "My mom works for them," she admitted. "Like… shes been working for them since before i was born..but she hasnt really been working with them recently, shes getting older and it seems theyve left her alone"

The words felt distant, like they had to fight through the high to reach you. But when they did, they hit hard.

Your fingers curled against the edge of the teacup. "What?"

Mel let out a humorless laugh, rubbing her hands over her face before dropping them back into her lap. "Yeah. I found out on the phone call. She acts all high and mighty, but she’s just another attack dog for some psycho pulling the strings." She looked at you then, something unreadable flickering in her expression. "Guess that explains why she won’t tell me shit. She probably thinks I’ll go running my mouth."

Your thoughts felt sluggish, tangled in the drug’s haze. Silco had been on edge for weeks, digging for information, murmuring about the growing threat looming over the city. And now, Mel—your best friend—was connected to it.

The fair didn’t seem so bright anymore.

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. "Does Silco know?"

Mel shook her head. "No. And you can’t tell him." Her voice wavered slightly, just enough for you to notice. "If he finds out… I don’t know what he’d do."

Your pulse thumped in your ears, the warmth of the molly battling with the cold weight settling in your stomach. The teacup continued to spin gently, but suddenly, it felt like the ground wasn’t so steady anymore.

As the two of you stumbled off the teacup ride, the world still swayed beneath your feet, the molly turning everything into a dreamlike haze. You were about to suggest another ride when something caught your eye—a familiar figure weaving through the crowd.

Your vision blurred slightly, but there was no mistaking the broad shoulders, the way he carried himself. "Is that…?" you squinted, trying to focus.

Mel followed your gaze, her eyes narrowing—until they suddenly went wide. "Jayce?!" she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos of the fair.

Your stomach dropped. No way.

Her ex-boyfriend. The one who had supposedly moved out of state. The one she had spent months cursing, only to pretend he never existed when she was finally over him. And yet, here he was, flesh and blood, standing just a few feet away.

Mel barely hesitated. "I should go say hi."

Your head snapped toward her. "What? No! You can’t just leave me—what if he’s totally over you? That’d be humiliating!"

Your protests fell on deaf ears. She was already pushing through the crowd, her determination outweighing your grip on her wrist.

"Mel, come on—!"

The crowd surged between you like a living thing, bodies pressing in, separating you in an instant. Your fingers slipped from hers, and then—she was gone.

"Mel?!" you shouted, shoving forward, but it was useless. The mass of people closed in, swallowing her whole.

Shit.

The fairgrounds suddenly felt suffocating—the neon lights too bright, the sounds too loud, blending together in an overwhelming blur. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, a mix of the drug and panic coursing through you.

Disoriented, you stumbled away from the chaos, slipping between trailers where food stands were set up. The smell of grease and sugar clung to the air, but it did nothing to settle the rising nausea in your stomach. You pressed your back against a rusted wall, sucking in sharp breaths, squeezing your eyes shut.

A small whimper escaped your lips.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was high-pitched, almost familiar. Your eyes fluttered open, vision swimming slightly, and then you saw her.

Bright blue hair, streaked with pink. A mischievous smirk pulling at her lips. You’d seen her before—last weekend, at the bar.

Your heart skipped a beat.

"It’s you…" your voice was barely above a breath. You blinked hard, trying to steady yourself. "Are—are you real?"

The girl tilted her head, amusement flickering in her sharp eyes. "Uh… yeah? Did you take something?"

You hesitated. "…Have you seen my friend? Butterfly braids, gold glittery makeup."

Her smirk widened, like she found your dazed concern entertaining. Before she could reply, hands suddenly grabbed you from behind.

A gloved palm clamped over your mouth.

Your body went rigid. Panic exploded in your chest, but before you could scream, the hand was replaced with something else—cloth, thick and soaked with something sharp-smelling.

Chloroform.

"Shut the fuck up," a voice growled in your ear.

You thrashed, but your limbs were sluggish, uncoordinated. The molly dulled your reflexes, making your attempts at escape pathetic. Darkness crawled at the edges of your vision, your body going limp as exhaustion consumed you.

The last thing you saw was the blue-haired girl watching, head tilted curiously.

"What do you think she took?"

Jinx’s voice sounded distant, muffled, as if you were underwater.

Ekko adjusted your unconscious body in his arms, carrying you with ease. "Probably MDMA or something," he muttered. "We should tell Sevika."

Jinx hummed, tapping her fingers against her hip as she walked beside him. "Yeah… I guess we should."

She glanced down at you, her smirk lingering.

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #lesbian #sevika x reader #wlw #wuh luh wuh #sissormetimbers #sevika x you #sevika x y/n

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shuenkio · 8 months ago

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Birthday present | Psh. 🎁

Paring: Sunghoon x M!reader | Genre: Fluff

ᯤ Synopsis: He was unhappy with the gift that you gave him, SH was mad but what kind of present did he truly want?

ᯤ Cw: None maybe.

ᯤ Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

ᯤ This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

ᯤ Crd to all the owner [dv/pics]

A✓N: probably disappear after this one for real[fr], the exam is under my nose and here I am, writing delusional thoughts. 🫂

To be friends with Sunghoon was so easy; you don't get why all those girls say it's so hard like this, it's so hard like that. When m/n just go and give Sunghoon a bottle of water one time after his practice for the match as a figure skater.

Ever since then, you and him get along pretty quickly, or maybe you're just his teammates? Privilege, of course. But little did you know that Sunghoon is not the type to express his heart or how he feels about something, nor is an exciting surprise out of his expression. He was indeed a cold person, to be honest.

Yet you can still hang out with Sunghoon; having enough patience to be there for him whenever he's spacing out, freezing, is like sometimes you wonder if you have a robot friend. Cloud began to set into a breathtaking sight of night, filled with the city lights lit up. It was time to go back home after a long, intense day of practicing. Sunghoon is not here because he had finished before you ever since this morning.

Checking your phone for a time, you saw a reminder pop up on your notification.

"Sunghoon's birthday today; let's post and wish for him."

Oh, it's actually his birthday; maybe time flies too fast to even think about anything; December 8 is here already. Furrow your brow, rubbing your chin with your slender fingers. Having deep thoughts, what should you give him for his special day? He's not the type who loves luxury things like men do, such as watches, belts, or whatever you just know he'd not too plead at it.

Pop, you suddenly get an idea by gifting him glasses because he likes them a lot. Wait, what if he doesn't like it? Perhaps winter is approaching; a scarf wouldn't be that bad, isn't it? It's keeping everyone warm; each one of us needs it. A scarf that it. Must stop by a fashion store before heading home to see him at his place.

7 p.m. comes by in a blink of an eye, and you find yourself knocking on his door. You didn't realize that he'd be throwing a party and celebrating with his family and friends; all you had in mind was to deliver him his gift. The door cracked open, revealing a taller figure. In front of you, Sunghoon, who had a birthday hat around his head. Funny, because he's not into childish stuff; it must be his mom.

"M/N, you're here! Uh, what are those?" Seeing a plastic bag in your hand makes him wonder what it could be. As you respond quickly by saying it was his gift, so then both of you get inside the house first. The party is still ongoing, yet some of his relatives are already full, which makes the house empty for some reasons.

Settled down all of your stuff in one place as you make your way to where Sunghoon are. He was in a kitchen, pouring soda into two empty cups. Tapping him on the shoulder while your hand is holding a bag behind your back, ready to surprise him even if he won't be surprised anyway.

"M/n? Here, soda, you must be tired from the training!" Said from a tipsy guy, handing you a cup. You didn't accept it yet till you finally handed him the gift you've been wanting to give him before taking the cup. Sunghoon didn't realize he was smiling from ear to ear the moment M/N gave him.

Whether he was surprised or not, a gift is a gift; it was meant to be a little curious. What could that be, isn't it? Fishing inside the brand plastic bag, he found a vintage scarf inside; it suits his skin tone well though, despite being as pale as snow. He then unwrapped and blanketed his neck with his new scarf. Did he like it? You bet he might not by the face he made right now, catching you off guard a little.

"Did you like it? Sunghoon, we've been friends for ages, but I can't deny what your favorite thing is you love the most. Sorry, Hyung, if that's not on your... expected list." Feeling a little hurt and guilty, a present is meant to be accepted in all kind the guest gives, while Sunghoon did otherwise.

"I don't like it, quite much m/n; you should know me better." With a smile that almost wiped his cheeks, Sunghoon frowned, unhappy. The scarf on his neck, the item you spend time thinking deep to find one—guess you're wrong this year. Sigh, you have to make it up to him this time; anything will do.

"Sorry, really, I'll find something more perfect for you; just say it." Picking on your finger's nails, you determined you'd do as Sunghoon told; one word will do; that's all Sunghoon needs to say. The taller's lit up slightly; this is the moment he has been waiting for for years. Anything? Sunghoon likes it.

"We have been friends for ages, right m/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Then, let's not be friends anymore; I'm tired of this friendship." Nani? Goosebumps were running and throwing your skin as your heart sank deeper than a Titanic ship. Did he really say that? What did you do wrong to be as guilty or bad for him to have the guts to no longer want to be friends with you?

"What do you mean, Sunghoon? I've never done anything wrong, am I? Right?" Tears are almost forming; a waterfall could break anytime soon. To prevent that, Sunghoon takes a rewind turn and gets into the point then. He was afraid you'd be a cry mess if he didn't spit any loner.

"Be my boyfriend instead; I hate that I can't be more than a friend! I wanna love you, m/n," placing your palm on your chest; if only only you had heart issues, a second won't spare. M/N almost nearly fainted with the sudden confession from a friend of his, who is the cold-hearted guy. This is something.

"Kill me now."

"I'll take that... As a yes, my boyfriend."

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teslasucks37 · 2 months ago

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CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), tsundere-ish!Reader, afab!reader (no pronouns tho), dom!Charlie, spanking (Reader Recieving), Canon Divergent, Slight classism from Reader? (If u like really squint and read between the lines (the longing to be touched by a hardworking man))

A/N: Heavily inspired by the beautiful dredge playthrough we’ve been blessed! (I imagined this taking place in the dredge world without any of the past memory stuff cause I came up for this idea before I finished the playthrough afterward…) This is a weird mashup of a headcannon format with actual fic content, while still remaining a little vague for artistic purposes. (Also yes I made a visual depiction of the reader above but their appearance doesn’t come up) This is nearly 2.5k words… I got a little carried away… Also if it’s bad or I missed a typo no I did not it is 5:16 am 🤨

Fisherman!Charlie x Reader

Love and Kisses

When he first came to your small little cottage by the rocks, you were less than happy to see him.

Much less than happy.

All you wanted was to be left alone.

But no, him and his stupid boat had to come bobbing over the horizon.

“What do you want?” You called out to him from the dock in a harsh tone.

He stood up after finishing tying off his boat with insane speed, seeming surprised at your prickly greeting. “Uh, do you need help with anything?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What? No?”

You weren’t like the other people he’d met around this place, instead abrasive and reclusive.

Not jumping at the chance for someone’s help like the rest of them.

“Your dock is looking pretty rough.”

You looked to the planks of wood beneath your feet, practically falling apart from lack of use.

“Well, I don’t need help from the likes of you.” You barked, crossing your arms.

“What, a fisherman?” He cocked his head, glancing down at his attire, his shirt slightly dirty with miscellaneous scales, fins, smears, and stains.

“From anyone!” You shouted, turning to walk back up the stony steps to your cottage. “Just go away!”

He stood there for a moment, taking one more look at the deteriorating dock, before unwrapping his boat and sailing away.

You watched him go from high atop your cottage, hoping that would be the last you saw of him, of anyone for a long time.

But the next time he came back was only a day or so later.

He tied off his boat to your rickety dock, before stepping back onto the deck of his vessel and hauling out armfuls of planks.

You’d been out on your front lawn, basking in the sun, when you glanced below at the dock to see it being ripped up by that same damn fisherman from the day before.

“Hey!” You shouted to him as you raced down your stone steps toward him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He glanced up at you, before turning back to destroying the planks beneath him. “I’m fixing your dock.”

“Well it seems more like you’re breaking it…” You crossed your arms. “I could have you arrested for destruction of property.”

“I’m Charlie.” He stood up, dusting off his hands, then holding one out to you. “Just so you know whose name to put on the police report.”

“You smell like fish.” You glared at his outstretched hand, causing him to retract it with an awkward grin, before he continued his work.

“Well, I do fish for a living.” He joked, a smile etching on his face.

Your frown deepened at his smile, watching as he just kept working. “What if I don’t want it fixed?”

“Well, I think that’s a shame.” Charlie grabbed a nail, hammering it into another board and jostling it all to make sure it stayed in place. “Cause this happens to be a mighty fine spot for a dock.”

Your glare was simply met with a soft smile. “Just… Don’t come past the dock. Or you’re trespassing.”

He nodded in agreement, watching you walk back up the steps into the cottage.

You watched him from your living room window, doing nothing for days but rebuilding your dock for you.

Your disdain for him shrank, if only a little bit.

“I can’t give you any kind of compensation.” You called out to him from the stone steps as he finished hammering down the last plank.

“That’s okay.” Charlie just shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stood up. “I wasn’t expecting any.”

You narrowed a brow at him.

There was no way that was true.

Everyone always wanted something.

That’s just the way the world was.

You’d accepted that long ago.

But even after he finished the dock, he came back the next day.

It didn’t make any sense.

There was nothing there for him, no trading, no shops, no interesting artifacts.

Just you.

Every time he came, he just wanted to see you.

You two would chat about nothing and everything while sitting on the dock he’d built with his bare hands, despite his jokes that he wasn’t cut out for “rough handed” work, whatever that meant.

It wasn’t until around then that you felt comfortable telling him your name.

One day he asked you how you’d wound up on these rocks, in this cottage.

“It was my grandparents’ before they died. They left the house in my name and… Anywhere was better than living with my parents any longer…” You trailed off, not mentioning anything more on the subject.

He wondered if that was why you were always alone, if that’s why your dock had been so neglected.

You were still stewing in anger.

Charlie wanted to help, obviously.

Perhaps the dock was just the start, maybe the real quest was making you see the world in a better light again.

Not that you were an objective to be completed or something, but the thought of making you believe in humanity again did fill him with a sense of hope.

And so he tried.

He would show up at various times, in the peacefulness of the morning, in the dead of night, and you would wake up for him every time.

Charlie would always honk the horn when he was coming or going, which you complained about, claiming that it was too loud and would wake up the wildlife.

But of course, every time he even hinted at stopping the practice, you backtracked, saying that if he didn’t announce his presence, he might run into a resting animal close to the dock.

You both knew it was a bullshit excuse, but neither of you ever dared to say it.

He would always do it in a special little pattern too.

Hooonk hooonk honk honk honk, honk honk honk hooonk hooonk.

He said that it was Morse code for 73, a way that people would say “best regards” through telegrams and ham radios.

You found it endearing, though you’d never say that to his face.

But then one day he changed it.

Hooonk hooonk hooonk honk honk, hooonk hooonk hooonk honk honk.

You asked him what it meant, and he just shrugged, a sly grin on his face.

You searched your grandparents’ small library for something, anything regarding Morse code, but you found nothing.

Any time you brought it up he would move to a new topic immediately, a shit eating grin on his face.

You would talk to him about the new things you were growing in your garden and he would talk to you about the fish he’d caught that day, even inviting you aboard one time to view the fish in the cooler.

“Is it… Supposed to look like that?”

“Uh… I don’t really know. The fish look kinda different around here.”

“And that one?”

“Oh that one’s actually rotting, let me throw that out.”

“Oh, ew ew ew-“

You didn’t end up going back in there for a while.

It got to the point that he was tying his boat to your dock every other day consistently for nearly three months.

So when he didn’t show up for nearly a week, you were worried.

Insanely worried.

Like stay up all night tossing and turning imagining the worst worried.

One day, at around dinner time, a horn honked out in a pattern you recognized so well across the horizon.

You practically knocked your dining room chair over at how fast you stood up and sprinted out the door, racing down the stone steps to meet him.

Charlie had just finished tying his boat to your dock as you wrapped him in a hug.

He stumbled lightly, not expecting the sudden contact.

“Where were you?” You mumbled into his shoulder, despite the faint fish smell.

Behind it, he smelled like the ocean breeze, salty and warm.

“I’m sorry.” Charlie whispered against the crown of your head, your hair tickling his face as he pulled you closer. “I was helping a friend. It took longer than I thought it would.”

“I thought that you…”

Drowned? Died? Lost interest?

He seemed to understand every thought in your head immediately, pulling away from you just far enough to tilt your chin up with a hooked finger and kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, even as he pulled away, you struggled to open them again.

“It’ll take more than a few sea beasts to sink me.” He joked with a lopsided smile, even though the prospect wasn’t very funny.

“Don’t do that again.” You mumbled, deadly serious despite the soft look in your eyes.

Charlie pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I won’t, I promise.”

From then on he never left for longer than a day without letting you know ahead of time.

It only took a few more visits for you to finally invite him to come up and see the house.

But that wasn’t your only intention.

“You know, I never did thank you properly for rebuilding my dock… But I think I have a little something that you’d like~”

But first you forced him to hose off the fish smell before he stepped inside.

It didn’t take long before you were on him, to his absolute delight.

After all, you hadn’t had someone in your house for a long time, so you weren’t about to waste it.

It took only moments until he had you face down and ass up on the bed.

You’d been so rude to him when he’d first arrived, he wanted to be a little mean back.

And there was absolutely no way you were thinking of stopping him.

He caressed your waist like he hadn’t touched anyone like this in years.

And being as secluded out at sea as he was, he probably hadn’t.

His fingers kneaded the bare skin on your waist, thighs, ass, everything covering the important bits discarded already on your bedroom floor.

When he slipped inside you for the first time it practically made you see stars.

“Oh, fuck!”

It already reached so fucking deep inside you.

Your eyes rolled back for a moment, before fluttering closed at the sensations zipping through your synapses and corrupting your brain into a hazy state of complete pleasure.

His speed was anything but slow, his desperation obvious in how he stretched you out, not waiting for you at all.

It hurt in just the right way to feel so good, especially when it was Charlie doing it to you.

“Fuck, feels so good…” He slurred out, his mind mush at the sight of your body combined with the feeling of your velvety walls pulsing around him.

You gasped slightly as he landed a light slap on your ass, so soft it couldn’t even be considered a slap, maybe just a harsh motion to make your ass jiggle for him.

Wiggling your ass involuntarily in response led to him grabbing your ass, slapping it again just to make it move.

A moan fell from your lips at the contact, making him grin and slap harder.

“Oh fuck…” He mumbled, busy admiring your reactions to his spanking. “So good for me~”

His voice was breathy, like he was fighting to hold himself back.

“Please~” You weren’t even exactly sure what you were asking for, but it was the only word you managed to choke out before you sobbed in pleasure at his increase in speed.

Charlie pressed your hips into the mattress with his own, the pure force of his thrusts bouncing you back onto his cock. “That’s it, baby~”

God, you were gonna cum.

You were gonna cum on a fisherman’s cock.

You were gonna cum on Charlie’s cock.

You gasped as you squirted around him, dripping all over the bed, running down your thighs and his balls.

His hips ground against you, shoving his cock all the way in to kiss at your cervix, making you groan in pleasured pain at the feeling.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Uh huh!” You moaned against the mattress, grasping your sheets desperately for some kind of purchase to recover from your orgasm, but he didn’t give you that.

Charlie gripped your ass, pulling you back onto his cock again, making you shout out and arch your back.

“Hah~ Hah~ Hah~” You panted and groaned and shook within his mighty grip, completely helpless.

“I’m gonna come home to you every fucking night…” He mumbled between thrusts, profanities spilling from his mouth under his breath. “And I’m gonna fill you up every fucking night.”

Your walls clenched at the thought of Charlie calling your home his, your body his, you his.

He felt it around him, making him pound harder, faster, if that was even possible.

You could tell he was purely trying to cum, absolutely thrilled at even the notion that it would be inside you, so much so you whispered to him. “Please… Cum inside meee~” You whined, Charlie responding with a light groan and a tighter readjustment of his grip on your ass.

He pounded into you with wild abandon, the wetness from your previous orgasm letting him glide freely in and out of you.

“Fuck~” Charlie moaned headily at the sensation, your walls fluttering around him in overstimulation.

His fingertips gripped your waist hard as he rocked inside you a few more times, slowing to a stop as he twitched and panted, emptying his load inside you.

You both practically collapsed into each other, breathing and shivering, absolutely exhausted.

It wasn’t until you were in his arms and he was playing with your hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers, that he let his big secret slip.

“It’s 88.”

“What?” You asked groggily, glancing up from his chest.

“The Morse code. I changed it to 88.”

You said nothing, waiting for him to continue on his own.

He bit the inside of his flushed cheek, shy for the first time in his life. “It means… Love and kisses.”

You had to hold back a grin.

“Love and kisses?” You repeated back with a teasing smirk.

He nodded triumphantly, as if he had won a game. “I know, I’m a genius.”

You chuckle, smacking him lightly on the chest.

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You raised a finger, tapping it rhythmically on his arm.

Press press press tap tap, press press press tap tap.

Charlie smiled, pulling you tighter as he repeated the pattern against your back.

The two of you fell asleep together, pressing “love and kisses” into each others’ skin.

#charlie slimesicle x reader #smut #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle smut #I worked way too hard on this #when I should be doing my GenLoss fic

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shalomniscient · 1 year ago

Note

woah…..that zoya post…………now make them kiss (pretty please 🙏)

this took centuries. im so sorry

breaking point || zoya x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. medical talk (or attempts at), kind of graphic descriptions of injuries (?), power bottom reader and service top zoya, unsafe sex in the sense reader wants to be dicked down so bad they diss condoms (practice safe sex gamers), fingering, creampie

notes. i dunno i just think zoya would like a partner with a little fire to them yk?? reader is just internally very horny for zoya but would not admit it even upon threat of death. also head in hands this is so disjointed im so sorry

taglist. @sinsmockingbird for when you awaken my liege

As an ER doctor, being able to keep a cool head even in intense situations is a priceless skill. You clarity and calmness could be the difference between a life saved and a life lost. Thankfully, you and your sister have always been good at being clinically cold—but even you both have your limits. For Iron, it was when she was forced to amputate her arm.

For you, it's watching a few legionnaires haul their Commander into the ER, barely conscious and looking half-dead.

"Trauma room 2, now," you snap, tossing your clipboard aside and pulling your coat tighter around yourself. Of course this had to happen on the one day Iron was in Eastside picking up supplies. Your mind races as you march alongside the legionnaires as they drag Zoya—hardly responsive, head hanging low, pallor to her skin—onto a cot. Your nurses swarm you like a well trained unit, moths to a light, awaiting your orders. You suck in a breath, let each molecule of air settle in your cells, before you dive headfirst into action.

"Four units of O-negative, and two large bore IVs," you command, your voice even as you move to stand next to the cot. The wound on her abdomen is substantial, and for once you're grateful for her frankly ridiculous fashion choices since it lets you save time on cutting her clothes off. Your gloved hands reach up to cup Zoya's pale face, your eyes cold as you look down at her. "Get the OR prepped and call anesthesia now."

"Zoya," you say firmly, gently shaking her head. "Oi, brute. Can you hear me?"

The commander remains silent, and you frown. Perhaps the situation is worse than you thought. One of the legionnaires, just a girl, shifts anxiously next to the bed. "Boss got hit by a Mania weapon," she explains, her voice trembling as if she's near tears. "It was supposed to be for me, but—"

"Do you know what kind?" you cut her off, and internally you flinch at the way she recedes from the iciness of your gaze. But she shakes her head, and you bite your tongue. The pieces of the diagnosis align in your mind's eye—Mania weapon, unknown effect, caused severe lacerations and subsequent hemorrhaging. High possibility of additional Mania contamination within her bloodstream, although as a Sinner risk of further complication on that avenue is reduced.

You draw in another breath. Okay. You can do this.

"You owe me for this, brute," you mutter, before you kick the locks off the cot wheels and start pushing her to the OR. The double doors greet you like the gateway to purgatory, and you push everything beyond your clinical expertise to the furthest recesses of your mind.

Under the bright OR lights, your form casts a long shadow over Zoya's still one. You exhale.

"Let's begin."

You only finish six hours later.

Your scrubs are stained red up to your elbows, and you can barely feel your feet after being on them for so long. But the heart monitor beeps steadily, and it is the only sound you want to hear now. You thank your nurses and tell them to get some rest. Once they're out of sight, you stumble back and lean against the wall, your eyes slipping shut.

Your hands are shaking.

You exhale. You're barely aware of the fact that you're sliding down the wall until you end up on the floor, the coldness of the tile seeping through your scrubs. The surgery hadn't been easy. Fishing remnants of Mania crystals out of flesh equally as red is always a challenge—often, the patient doesn't survive. Corruption sets in quickly, and all you can do is hand them over to Iron to nip the bud before it blooms.

But you saved her. She's alive, breathing, stable, so why does your heart tremble in your chest? Why does the sight of her blood on your arms make you sick?

Deep down, you know why. But the words knot on your tongue and catch against your teeth every time you try to say them. So instead, you settle for something else. A different emotion, but no less potent. And you pretend that the rush you felt that other day was nothing more than loathing. And whatever it is you're feeling now is just irritation that you had to spend 6 hours stitching her abdomen back together.

"Stupid fucking brute," you mutter to yourself, resting your head on your knees, pulled close to your chest. "Going out and getting yourself hurt like that. Aren't you supposed to be strong?"

You sit on the cold tile for a while, before forcing yourself back onto your feet. Your eyes roam impassively over Zoya's sleeping face, and you can't help but think how... soft she looks, peacefully asleep like this thanks to the anesthesia. It almost makes you want to reach out and stroke her cheek—but you don't, and instead turn on your heel and walk right out of the room.

After all, there’s no point lingering on pipe dreams.

"Doctor!"

You sigh, feeling a headache build between your temples. You turn to the nurse, scowling. "Yes?"

"The, um... the patient in trauma room two is awake," she answers nervously. "And she's trying to—"

Whatever your poor nurse is trying to say is cut off by none other than said patient striding down the hallway, unbothered, even as five of the other strongest nurses you have try to hold her back. She simply drags them along with each confident step. Also, she somehow managed to get her clothes back? You mentally add another thing to your to-do list—you'll have to have a stern talk with whoever manages patient belongings. Zoya stops in front of the front desk and eyes you up and down, and you shoot an unimpressed glare right back at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" you ask flatly, and Zoya shrugs.

"I'm here to say thanks," she responds, and you blink. That... wasn't what you were expecting.

"Oh."

"I'm also going to leave," she adds, and then you scoff, feeling the moment crumble in an instant.

"In your dreams. You're not due to be discharged for three more days." You round the counter to stand defiantly in front of her, and she raises a brow. Around you, your staff shift nervously. If Zoya decides to force her way out, there really is no one who can stop her.

"I'm perfectly fine," she counters, placing a hand on her hip. Your eyes flick down to it, and yes—the glaring wound in her side is healed up, almost beautifully. Such are the 'benefits' of being a Sinner. But you shake your head nonetheless, stubbornly digging your heels in. If Zoya is an unstoppable force, then by God will you be the immovable object.

"You're fine when I say you're fine," you roll your eyes. "Now do I have to put you on a leash or are you going to go back to your room on your own?"

Something flickers in Zoya's eyes, and she makes a derisive noise that has your brow twitching. You can feel your blood starting to simmer just beneath your skin. Really, one of these days she's probably going to give you an aneurysm.

“Hmm, how about this, then? You check me over, and if anything isn’t in already healthy condition, I’ll stay,” Zoya offers, and you cross your arms.

“And if not?”

“Then I’ll leave,” she answers coolly. “Deal?”

Your head throbs. “Fine. Just get in the triage room, I’ll make this quick.”

You stalk your way to the room, Zoya following on your heels like an obedient dog. Like this, it is she who casts a shadow on you, with her once again ridiculous height. It makes you want to see her on her knees.

You banish the though away as quickly as it came and sit Zoya down on the cot. She leans back on both her palms, relaxed as ever, watching as you flit about, pulling on gloves and putting on your stethoscope.

“Breathe in,” you order, and she does. Her lungs sound clear, which is good. You don’t hear the light chime of embedded Mania crystals, which is a relief. Your hand trails down her back before moving to her front, ghosting over her abs.

The injury that had left her bleeding all over your floors is practically gone now—only a thin white line proof it was ever there. You brush your thumb against the scar, and you feel the way her muscles tense beneath your touch.

You do your due diligence, pressing along her abdomen as part of a standard checkup. It’s a perfectly normal procedure to check for organ size, pain and abnormalities, but the thought that this is Zoya you’re touching almost makes your hands tremble. And the way she’s reacting—tense and breathing deep with each inhale��is certainly not helping.

Once you finally finish the exam, there’s a distinct charged feeling in the air. You glance up at Zoya, and her eyes are dark; just like the way they were back then. It makes you swallow reflexively, your blood feeling almost unbearably warm beneath your skin.

You’re still close to her. Your hands are still on her abdomen. You should pull away, but you don’t really want to. A part of you doesn’t even think it can.

“Did I pass, princess?” Zoya breathes, her warm breath fanning across your face. Your eyes narrow, and you look directly into her dark ones like a challenge.

“It’s doctor.”

She smirks. You want to kiss it off her. “Whatever you say, princess.”

“Fuck you,” you snarl, ready to pull away, irritation overtaking the lust in your system before Zoya grabs both your wrists and keeps you close.

“Fuck me yourself,” she whispers, dangerously close to your lips, both an invitation and a challenge.

A better doctor would’ve stepped away. Good thing, then, that you never were the best, because you meet Zoya’s challenge in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. Zoya grins against you, slipping off the cot to tower over you. Her hands move your arms around her neck as she walks you backwards, all while her tongue plunders your mouth.

Zoya pushes you against a wall with enough force to make you gasp, air rushing from your lungs. Her lips and teeth descend on your neck as her hands travel down to your ass, squeezing once before they find your thighs, guiding them to wrap your legs around her waist. You sigh in pleasure at the kisses she presses against the skin of your neck, one of your hands winding in her silvery hair while the other digs into her shoulder to steady yourself.

You’re now completely held up by her, but the fear of falling doesn’t cross your mind even once. You’re pretty sure Zoya can keep you in place by just pinning you to the wall with her hips. You grind your front against her pelvis, and you both groan at the friction against her growing bulge. Zoya’s fingers find the waistband of your scrubs, and she tugs them down roughly.

You tighten your grip in her hair at that, and she hisses in both slight pain and pleasure. “Careful,” you mutter to her, “you’re not allowed to rip them.”

Zoya scoffs against your neck but nonetheless obeys, and you sigh when you feel her knuckles rub against your clothed clit. Zoya exhales as she feels your wetness seep through your panties and onto her skin.

“So fucking wet, princess,” she coos into your ear, dragging a finger along your slit. She presses lightly on the ruined cloth, delighting in the way it sticks to your drenched lower lips. You nip at her jaw, a scrape of your teeth along the defined bone, and Zoya takes the hint.

Her fingers push your panties to the side, and then sinks knuckle deep into your cunt.

You bite down on her shoulder to muffle your moans, your pussy fluttering around the intrusion. Fuck, her fingers are so thick—she’s hardly done anything and you’re already so close to your peak it’s embarassing. Your legs tighten around her waist as she starts pumping her fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds of her working your cunt open echoing in the room. Her thumb presses against your stiff clit and you squirm, burying your face in her neck and panting for breath.

“Gonna cum, princess?” Zoya asks, a breathless edge to her voice. “You’re—fuck—getting tighter, baby.”

“Keep going,” you snap, somewhere between a snarl and a sob. Your entire body is trembling. You seriously might kill her if she does. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Zoya growls, and pistons her fingers even faster all while her thumb draws harsh circles against your clit. You babble whispered praise into her neck before one final, perfect stroke against that spongy spot inside of you had you creaming all over her fingers. The gang leader grunts as she feels your tightness bear down on her, and wetness seep into her palm.

You pant against her neck as you come down from your high, legs twitching. Zoya withdraws her fingers with a wet squelch, and you shudder. But she doesn’t set you down, not just yet, and you know why—or rather, you can feel why. You pull back, leaning your head against the wall, and all while keeping your eyes locked with hers, let your hand brush against the tent in her pants.

Her hips jerk at the sensation, and you smirk. She’s just as pathetically desperate as you are. You brush your hand up and down the clothed length once, then twice, before finally tugging the zipper and her boxers down just enough for her cock to spring free.

Shit, you feel yourself get wetter at just the sight. Her cock slaps against her stomach, painfully hard and big enough that you’re glad she had the control to finger you open first. Zoya growls again when you pump your hand along her length, gathering sticky pre-cum from her drooling tip and laving it down her hardness.

“Wouldn’t happen to keep condoms in here, would you?” she asks, her voice deeper than usual. You roll your eyes at the question.

“No, we don’t keep condoms in the triage room,” you answer, shifting your hips so her cock now rests against your soaked lower lips. “But we do stock morning after pills.”

Zoya’s eyes flicker dangerously, and she grips your hips tight enough to bruise. “You’re playing with fire, princess.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you retort, moving your hips up and down and letting her cock slide between your pussy lips and bump deliciously against your clit. “I’m on the pill anyway.”

Zoya buries her face in your neck and growls, then angles her cock with your entrance and slowly pushes in. You have to bite your tongue as she enters because fuck, she’s so fucking big. You can feel the way you cunt stretches to accomodate her size, more than it ever has for anyone else and you whimper reflexively.

Zoya squeezes your hips apologetically, kissing your neck as she keeps going. “Gotta relax, princess, c’mon, just relax for me…”

You do your best, and the moment she bottoms out it feels like all the breath has been forced from your lungs. Gravity ensures you have a particularly deep seat on her cock, and it leaves both of you breathless. Zoya meets your eyes, and slowy, she starts to thrust, drawing back before snaping forward in a smooth rhythm that soon has you seeing stars.

She fucks you against the wall with as much force as she can muster without being too loud—the rest of the hospital is just outside the door anyway. She smothers your moans with a kiss, hungry and demanding, her tongue tangling against yours. With each rut of her hips her cock bullies your g-spot and you can feel the knot in your stomach tighten once more.

“‘m going to cum,” you gasp out, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure, “‘m gonna cum, Zoya, please—“

“Go on, then, princess,” she encourages, her thumb starting to work your clit again. “Cum all over this cock like I know you want to.”

You writhe against her, your cunt squeezing her length like a vise. Zoya grunts at the sensation, her thrusts starting to get choppy as she rockets to her own high. Her lips travel from your own then down to your neck, her teeth ghosting the skin there. With one last drive of her hips she buries herself deep inside you and spills her hot cum into your eager cunt, while her teeth sink into the junction between your shoulder and your neck.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of being filled by and of her, your insides being painted white as she dumps rope after rope of cum into you. Fuck, you’re going to be dripping into your panties for a while after this, but you can’t bring yourself to care as nothing but sheer pleasure courses through your veins.

You don’t know how long it takes before both of you wind down from the high, but Zoya’s still hilted inside you, and a part of you doesn’t want her to leave. You’re both a panting mess, and Zoya draws away from your neck with a breathless sigh.

“So…” she begins, and you can barely manage a noise in response. “I take it I’m clear to be discharged, doctor?”

You only answer her with a quick smack to her shoulder that has her chuckling.

(But you agree, on the condition she comes back for regular check-ups. Zoya has no problems with this arrangement.)

#sev.responses #sev.writes #[nsft]#ptn #zoya x reader #zoya smut #*claws my way to the dining table* zoya nation........ i bring thee a gift....#wrote this in delirium and it's so disjointed to me sdhlsjhdlsjhdljsj #what was the point of reader's internal monologue ?? man fuck if i know

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bucketsofmonsters · 10 months ago

Text

Deep Water - Part 5

cw: the ocean, begrudging kissing done for practical reasons, discussions of drowning, blood, malnourishment, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Simon wretched. He wretched in front of them and it burned his throat and stung his ego as he emptied his stomachs of human food in front of his human and your awful little friend.

Finn had brought him this. Maybe if you'd brought him food it wouldn't make him feel this awful.

Probably not, but maybe.

He didn't like being brought food by this man anyway. It felt too much like courting.

He would preen at the idea of you bringing him food if he weren't currently emptying his stomachs in uncomfortably shallow water

Shallow water he bore for you. Not for him. Stupid little man.

He hated that he needed him. Needed him to bring him fish and these horrible toxins they’d decided to try.

“Probably not bread then,” he heard you say and he shook his head

No. No more of this bread. Not if he had anything to say about it, thank you very much.

“Okay,” your stupid little human said, still looking nervous. As he should be. If you hadn’t stood between them, he’d be dead. Even in the state he was in, he could lure him right in past the rocky shore and into deeper waters.

But he wouldn’t, for reasons he didn’t like to think about, his stomachs turning again as he did.

The two of you exchanged words once more, ones he hadn’t been paying attention to, before the stupid human left again.

You sat on the shore beside him and he pulled himself out of the water next to you.

His gills ached a little as he shifted so frequently from water to air but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to lay beside you.

You stared out at the sea, eyes a little distant and yet still warm. Even when they weren’t looking at him.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel jealous, not when he got to look at you like this. Even if that look wasn't directed at him.

You spoke softly and contemplatively when you did. “They were together. Finn and Isobel. She was my sister, I don’t know if I ever told you about her.”

He shook his head, wishing he knew more of you. Wishing you’d share more of yourself with him.

But he couldn’t really blame you, what had he told you of himself?

“She’s smart,” he said, contented at the fact that Finn had apparently already been rejected by one of your own.

“Smart?”

“You said were. He is not a suitable mate.”

You shifted on the rocks, something he’d come to realize you did when you’d been made uncomfortable, usually by him. He could rarely understand why, despite how frequently it happened. This was one of those times and he waited, patiently, for you to make it clear to him what he had done.

“She never left him. They were together until she died.”

“Oh.” A horrible sense of dread overwhelmed him. “How?”

“She drowned,” you said, picking up a rock and throwing it out into the water.

He was glad you weren’t looking at him, eyes locked into the horizon as you spoke. He was certain the worry was written across every feature on his face.

Did he do that? He didn't know. That felt worse almost, that someone so dear to you could have been so insignificant to him that he may have killed her without even knowing

“Simon?” you asked, words fading in past the intense, buzzing panic.

He wasn't sure how he felt when you called him that. A foreign, half-remembered name. You'd seemed displeased the first time he’d told it to you but you continued to use it so it couldn’t have been that bad.

He’d caught himself calling himself that in his own mind, of late. It was easy to when your voice was the only thing that filled his head.

He wished he had a name like you did, one he’d been given at birth so that when you said it it felt as if you were speaking him, like you could pour his essence out of your mouth with the affection he often heard in your voice.

As he focused once again he saw the horrible human, holding a fish this time. He looked worried too and Simon wanted to snap at him for the look. How dare he pity him, he wasn’t to be pitied. He could swallow him up, could fix this problem easily, all on his own.

And then your panicked eyes under choppy water filled his vision.

He lowered his head, violence seeping out of him, sufficiently cowed, and took the fish.

They’d been dead a while and he took no satisfaction in sinking his teeth into the soft flesh.

Eating above the water was messy. The blood clung to his jaw, dripping down his face as he tore a chunk out of the creature.

If he weren’t so hungry he might’ve cared.

A ravenous force took him until all he was left with was stubborn meat stuck on bones.

Only then did he look at you. You looked disgusted with him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He shied away from your gaze, tears welling up in his eyes.

It felt like everything he did was wrong, displeased you and made you look at him like that.

He slid wordlessly back into the water, not emerging onto the shore until all the blood had seeped into the water.

The concern was back on your face when he returned.

“Was that okay?” you prompted him gently as he stared up at you. “You feel a little better now?”

He nodded, eyes locked on yours.

A soft sigh escaped you, lips barely parting to let it leave you. He wanted to feel it, the gentle air passing over his skin, the soft lips he’d felt against his before.

“Good,” you said, and your smile reached your eyes.

It didn’t take long for you to depart, leaving to sleep far away from him.

He did his best to rest and then he did what he’s begun doing most days, he milled about in the water, lonely and near the shore.

He felt an intense panic when he didn’t have eyes on you. If he could get his hands on you, cold and vulnerable in open waters, so could someone else.

He wondered what he’d do if someone pulled Finn under. He liked to think he’d be noble and protect him, save someone so dear to you. Or at least that he’d turn and choose to let him go, allow him to be dragged under.

He knew that in all likelihood, he would freeze. He found himself doing that a lot lately. It seemed to come alongside the panic more often than not.

Later, you came to the shore with your soft eyes and he did what he always did. He fought down overwhelming urges to pull you under, to drown you and feast, to protect you as his mate, to beg you to hunt for him as his body became more and more convinced he had lost the ability to do it himself, to do any number of things you’d despise him for wanting.

He lay on the shore, frozen, until he felt his mind come back to him.

The fish had helped, he thought. It didn’t take quite as long for the urges to leave him.

You came bearing more of them.

Well, you didn’t. Finn did. But he could pretend, think that maybe he was just carrying them to the shore, that really they were from you.

He knew that they weren’t but he was no stranger to trying to read intention into the things you did.

It was so easy to slip into, to pretend every action was a secret message of adoration, just like his were for you.

But they weren’t and when he allowed himself to pretend all he’d done was hurt you, so he needed to be done with that now.

If you wanted something from him, you’d tell him.

If you felt something for him, you’d tell him.

But you hadn’t, and that was fine. He wouldn’t push.

But he couldn’t quite stop himself from pretending. Surely it was fine, so long as he didn’t act on it.

Finn dropped the fish on the shore and Simon dove for them.

It was unseemly but he couldn’t help it. The hunger had left a steady ache inside him and he would take any chance at relief.

The basket held a few fish, five or six of them strewn inside.

It was enough to be full. He could’ve cried at the sight.

But he had more important things to be doing and so instead, he grabbed the basked firmly and slid back into the water, dragging them under.

He flipped the basket as he immersed himself in the water so the fish wouldn’t escape him and rise to the surface, holding them protectively to his chest.

He’d wanted to tear into them on the shore but he’d seen your face the last time. He could not see it again, the revulsion that had painted itself there.

So instead, no longer dissuaded by your presence, he devoured them.

Blood clouded the water as he ate, swallowing mouthfuls of flesh one after the other.

It wasn’t the safest way to eat, could surely attract attention from other hungry creatures, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d done as much caring as he was capable of.

When he was done, he returned to the two of you.

Some of the foam lining the gentle waves ran red, stained by remnants of blood washing to shore.

You both had the decency not to comment on it, though he watched your eyes flick down and then quickly back up.

He wondered if you’d begrudge him this too. Your food wasn’t quite as messy as his was, was further from the creatures you ate, even when you ate meat just as he did.

He’d seen it before, basically unrecognizable, no blood pooling or ripping out bones as you ate. A more seemly affair.

Finn’s eyes lingered longer on the red, something quietly sad in his eyes, before they darted up to Simon.

As you sat, fawning over Simon and ensuring he had enough to eat, he found it difficult to bask in your attention the way he wanted, that gaze remaining steadily on him.

He tried not to notice Finn as often as he could. He brought about feelings that were better avoided, especially in front of you.

Currently, that was difficult, due to the fact that he was staring Simon down, some horrible thought forming behind his eyes.

“What’s it like?” he blurted out, cutting you off in a way that made Simon want to snarl at him. “Being under the water like that?” He sounded eager.

“Horrible,” you said with a little huff, your words turning bitter.

He did not begrudge you for the harshness of your words. He would move to land if he could, to prove to you he held no loyalty for the ocean.

“No,” Finn tried to clarify. “Not just swimming, actually being able to stay down there, to breathe it and live it.”

“I know,” you insisted. “I’ve been down there. It’s awful.”

Finn’s eyes flicked between the two of you like he was trying to decipher something. “How do you… please tell me you're human. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

You reeled back a little at his words, like the thought of you being like him had never occurred to you. He supposed maybe it hadn’t, maybe the possibility of what things would be like if you were the same hadn’t haunted you as it did him.

“No,” you said with a swift, decisive shake of your head. “Nothing like that. He just does this strange thing where you can breathe underwater. It’s happened a few times now. It’s awful, I don’t recommend it.”

Your unfavorable words did nothing to snuff out the excitement blooming across his face. “Could you do that to me?”

Simon’s nose wrinkled at the thought. “I’d have to kiss you.”

“Oh. Well, it wouldn’t mean anything, it’s just practical.”

A spike of panic shot through him at the thought that you believed the same about the kiss you had shared with him. That second one that changed his life.

It was practical, he supposed. At least the first one, underwater with panic in your eyes. The second couldn’t be. He couldn’t make sense of it, refused to accept it.

But this one could be, he supposed.

He turned to you, unsure what he was looking for.

You seemed just as uncertain as he felt. You spent a while searching for words, mulling them over, before settling on, “It hurts like hell.”

He was quick to reassure you both that it was fine and he didn’t mind. Simon didn’t much care what he minded.

But then you sighed, slow and resigned, and gave him a look that if he was reading your expression right, which he’d discovered he often wasn’t, was saying ‘please.’

And he couldn’t disappoint you.

With a huff and a frustrated look directed at you, he grabbed Finn’s hand and began yanking him back into the water.

Of course, it would have been easier to simply lure him in, but he had a feeling you would not have approved of that.

So instead he yanked him, slowly but surely, into deeper waters.

The brush of his lips, however brief, revealed rough lips, not like yours, not soft and sweet and so dear to him.

He did his best to lose the touch in the scramble of pulling him into the water.

He watched the fight that went on in Finn’s eyes as he tried to convince his brain that he was allowed to breathe, saw the moment of panic when his breath could be held no longer and his body forced him to inhale a heavy breath.

He knew it was wrong to feel a little swell of satisfaction now that he knew that it hurt to suck in water where air should be, and yet he couldn’t quite muster the shame that should follow such a feeling.

Only as he saw the pain in his eyes did he realize how horrible of a decision this was for Finn. He’d put himself in so much danger, offered himself up to a siren, for what? To be able to see under the waves for a few more minutes? Surely the man could just go for a swim.

He didn’t know the truth, that he was probably safer with Simon because at least this way, he’d be left alone by other creatures. He didn’t know that his devotion to you kept him from pulling him down and calling it a freak accident.

All he knew was that he’d put himself in the water with a starving siren.

Finn left him behind pretty quickly, moving to investigate the floor of the ocean, trying to look at fish before they swiftly swam away, leaving him behind in cloudy water.

It felt like an uninteresting affair to Simon but Finn seemed to be getting something from it.

Some amount of time passed, slipping away as Simon distractedly followed the irritating little human around.

Eventually, after far too long, he appeared to be done.

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Simon pulled him to shore without a signal. It was hard to read body language when one was irritated.

With another burst of satisfaction, he pulled Finn onto the shore and watched him heave water from his lungs, some of the embarrassment from the human food incident sinking away.

Strange. He’d never thought it embarrassing when you’d done it. Now, watching Finn deposit ocean water onto the sand with wet hacking noises, he thought that it was a shameful affair.

“That was incredible,” Finn managed to gasp out after a few minutes of heaving.

It didn’t feel right, that he’d taken him down there. That his lips had touched Finns.

He turned to look at you, sitting beside him on the shore, a sympathetic grimace on your face as you watched Finn.

And then he leaned in and kissed you.

Not a practical kiss, with no intent to put you anywhere near the water, but one born of only affection.

It was a brief thing and when he pulled away, you looked almost panicked.

His heart sank at the realization he’d messed it up again, done something strange and wrong and made you afraid of him.

But then the tension began to fade from your body, panic shifting into confusion.

“Why did you do that? Am I going into the water?”

He shook his head, face still inches from yours. “I just needed to. I’m sorry if I was wrong.”

He heard something from Finn and refused to turn and look at him when you were so close. It sounded almost like a cough, but not the painful, wet coughs of breathing air once more. It was a short stunted thing.

Simon, without turning, announced in response to this strange noise, “You can leave.”

A fit of laughter escaped you at his words, burying your head in your hands as you giggled.

He hadn’t been joking.

That was fine though. He liked it when you laughed, even if it was at him. It was never cruel, always soft and with nothing but shining amusement in your eyes.

He wished he was better at making jokes.

When he tried you just stood and stared and when he did not you laughed.

But then, he was never the best at knowing when to laugh either. There was a kinship in that, at least.

When he thought he might be laughing out of turn too much, he suppressed it. You didn't. He thought maybe your smile was too bright to keep down, that maybe it would hurt you like keeping in your air did.

His heart sank a little as he remembered.

Hurting you. The horrible realization that he'd hurt them all.

Maybe some of them laughed out of turn too. He'd never know.

Maybe your sister had.

He turned to leave. He couldn't stand to be here any longer.

He should tell you. He knew he should. But his jaw felt locked shut and his body felt like it was being pulled away, out of his control.

And so, like a coward, he fled, the water drowning out the sounds of laughter that he left behind.

#terato #merman x reader #merman x human #monster x reader #monster x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend #merman #I love the little gaps that show up in Simons pov bc of how often he just isn’t paying attention #Like how did we get here can you listen for five seconds #All those asks I got that were like ‘pls dont let this story be poly’ were actually from Simon I think #he Hates it here get this man away from him #Also the tonal whiplash in Simon’s head is crazy #He's all over the place

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kurinhimenezu · 4 months ago

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90 Day Baby Daddy - Adam - HH

Previous Chapter <- -> Next Chapter

Chapter 2

Author's Note: Plot lost itself a little but it'll be explained in the next chapters! I have no idea how long this will be so hopefully we'll find out together

CW: Adam cursing in front of babies, mentions of stalking (but not really emphasized)

Enjoy

Arrem looks worriedly over at her friend typing furiously at her laptop.

“Hey man, I’m just saying…maybe get a student loan? Instead of like selling feet pics to save up for some semesters for college seems a little much, right?”

“I really don’t want to be in even more debt to be honest with you and I am NOT selling feet pics! I was just writing someone’s essay for a couple of bucks” Y/n made a face before picking up her coffee. “At least we can mooch off of some wifi around here”

Arrem nodded and toasted her cup before taking a sip. Her eyes occasionally flitting back and forth to her book and to Y/n.

“Okay what is up, you’ve been staring at me looking like you wanna explode or something” Y/n took another sip of her coffee and placed it down on the coaster.

“I still can’t believe that…” Arrem leaned closer, whispering, “I still can’t believe Adam is the guy that knocked you up…why didn’t you tell us?? We could’ve sued the pants off of the guy for unpaid child support”

Y/n snorted, shaking her head. Arrem was always the practical one, even when her suggestions tend to be a little psychotic and the only one who knows her kid’s actual father.

She looked at her friend, dressed simply with her boots and long sleeves. She’s sometimes jealous that Arrem and the rest of the guys managed to finish their studies with relatively no problem.

Pen and Arrem took the same degree and are studying for their work licenses, working in the diner for the mean time to have some extra cash in the bank.

Fish finished his teaching degree a year before them, gave up teaching after seeing how fucking dumb the students of today are, thus crushing his hope for the younger generation and sunk his savings in a diner that’s surprisingly doing well to support him and his mom.

Which was sweet.

It’s a little difficult to not feel inadequate when you’re stuck someplace you can’t seem to get out of. She did try to finish college, hell she only had a couple of classes left to but being heavily pregnant and having to walk everywhere just to get to class just got too difficult. The judgemental stares didn't help either.

She had to drop out and take care of her baby.

It’s not all bad, she’s grateful for the kid and couldn’t imagine not having her after seeing her after birth. She just wishes she got pregnant on her own terms. Hell after graduating would've been nice.

Y/n frowned, she still couldn’t remember how she got into Adam’s bed in the first place and it’s really bothering her when she has some time for herself to think.

“I’m serious!”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, “Hm?”

Arrem sighs, taking a bite of her hashbrown viciously. Girl loves her potatoes. “I mean if it weren’t for him—”

“I know but it’s no use dwelling in the past...besides you love the little bean, right?” Y/N grinned.

Her friend crossed her arms and looked away, “Yeah, I do…she’s got spunk but what’ll you say when she grows up? Toddlers are smart sometimes you know”

“I’ll get to that bridge when I get there right now, I’m enjoying the baby ride”

Arrem uncrossed her arms and turns to look at her, “I’m still sorry…I feel partly responsible for what happened, I shouldn’t have given you all that alcohol and I should’ve kept an eye on you”

Y/n looks at Arrem in surprise. Arrem looks so mad at herself. Has she been holding on to this guilt the whole time?

“Hey, don’t feel responsible, I’m pretty sure I went and wandered off on my own anyway, it just so happens to be Adam I got with”

Her knowing Adam being the father of her child was no baseless accusation.

She knew it was Adam that she got with because she remembered waking up sore but utterly satisfied and his huge autograph written on her stomach along with his “phone number” …in permanent ink.

It took her 3 days to completely scrub all the ink off, (After having Arrem take a picture of course, the picture is tucked away in her little journal along with the rest of the merch she has of Adam’s band. She hates how obsessed she was before the incident)

“Shit man, don’t look now” Arrem mumbled against the lid of her coffee cup.

“Huh?” Y/n discreetly looks at the door, the bell jingling indicating a new customer.

Murmurs start to echo in the small coffee shop and not the usual kind of white noise either. It’s more…excited, quick, hushed whispers and the snapping of phone cameras.

“Yo…hook me up with a venti flat white, would ya? Ya’ll got supersize?”

Y/n internally groaned at hearing that annoying accent. That fucking drawl she thought was charming at one point. Adam has this way of speaking that you can’t really tell where he’s from, like a mix of speech patterns you can’t pinpoint. Y/n just chalked it up to travelling around so much.

The barista flinched at the order before nervously looking at the large man. With that boyish attitude on interviews, Adam still looks intimidating with his studs and spikes with golden eyes lined with what looks like dark smudged charcoal.

Okay she needs to stop.

“Uh sir...that’s more than enough espresso to give a normal man heart palpitations…are you sure?”

Adam looks at the barista like he’s stupid. “Then serve it to me in those little cups then?”

The barista opened his mouth before shutting it closed, nodding his head in defeat, “Yes sir that’ll be $149.99 please”

Y/n choked on her iced coffee at hearing the price, gaping as Adam easily pulled out a black card and swiping it at the machine. “Jesus man, I didn’t even know this place have those”

Arrem shrugged, tapping on her phone, “He says he’s a struggling artist but you never know with types like him”

“Helloooo ladies”

The two women let out annoyed sighs, one rolling her eyes before looking up at Adam.

“Adam” Arrem nodded, lifting her cup at him, “Big fan”

Adam gave her a finger gun before looking over at Y/n expectantly.

Y/n looks at Adam with a raised brow, judging him from head to toe. “Not so big fan” She smiled at him almost sickly sweet.

Adam huffs, taking a sip of his heart stopping coffee. “Right sooo…” He looks at her awkwardly trying to keep his cool.

It doesn’t help that a bunch of nosy fucks are filming him right now. His PR manager is so gonna fry his ass later.

“Oh! Right…here!” he shoved his hand down his tight leather pants, pulling out a cloth headband, pink and wrinkled with what looks like a fake rhinestone in the middle of it. “Your brat dropped this!” Adam grinned, handing it over to Y/n. He looked almost proud of himself for keeping it safe till now.

Y/n blinked at Adam before looking down at the thing suspiciously, it looked too…expensive to be her baby’s. Before she could protest that it’s impossible to be Addie’s, Arrem nudged her foot with hers.

“Dude...”

Y/n looked at her friend before finally noticing the café’s patrons trying to discreetly tune in to their conversation.

She bit her lip as Adam’s grin widened almost wickedly at seeing her resolve crumble and taking the hairband from his hand.

“Right…thank you SO much Adam, my baby’s been missing this…thing for a few days” Y/n turned the clip around inspecting it. It was shockingly girly, looking at it now she does remember panic buying a ton of baby girl stuff before Addie was born. Maybe she forgot about this particular hairband?

All in all, it doesn’t look too suspicious. Just a normal run of the mill hair clip.

Once Y/n took the ribbon and tied it to her bag, Adam smirked before turning away to sit at the corner booth at the back, the rest of his bandmates coming into the shop to sit at his table.

“Never noticed Addie wears ribbons like this” Arrem nodded at the hairband.

Y/n doesn’t want to make a scene and shrugged, not knowing what to say.

This was the first time she ever saw this hair clip too.

Y/n couldn’t seem to escape Adam lately. From the sleepy part of the city she knew and love turned into the #1 spot for tours, making her daily life seem a little more…ad conscious. Billboards of Adam’s face promoting his new album or a new music video that they’re going to shoot somewhere nearby or other bands opening for Adam playing non stop in TVs in the grocery stores.

Adam had snuck into her life again, remembering her name this time and even giving out his real number. Which she hasn't tried to call.

It wasn’t so bad, the vibes suddenly started becoming energetic with tourists coming in with all the popup events coming in.

Adam would travel around and would always come back after some months to “catch a break” here before going off again.

Maybe she’s feeling a little too full of herself into thinking that a famous rockstar is following her around but it was a little strange.

Sometimes she feels like someone is watching but when she looks around, no one is there. Or it's some rando not even paying attention to her.

But then who else would leave new baby stuff at her doorstep? Definitely not some good Samaritan. Her friends were pretty stumped too when she called to thank them for the gifts.

It was too much to think about and just let it happen.

“Damn how expensive are the frozen vegetables now…?” She mumbled, placing the generic store brand packet in the cart. The grocery was thankfully quiet, the early morning giving her some semblance of peace with the old folks doing their shopping and the sleepy night shifters minding their own business.

Addie gurgled, babbling and taking a bite of her teething ring as she tries to reach for a rubber duck hanging from the shelf.

A large hand plucked the toy from the shelf and handed it to the baby, making Addie squeal happily.

“I’ve never heard you laugh at vegetables before baby…that’s new…” Y/n’s voice trailed off seeing Adam, smiling at her kid and making a rubber duck squeak in his fist.

“Are you serious??”

Adam’s eyes flickered up at her and grinned, “Hey angeltits, looking gorgeous as usual”

“Man your crush on me is really obvious…your groupies must be so sick of seeing me with you”

Adam recoiled from her, handing the duck over to Addie. “Bitch you’re lucky to be in my presence”

Y/n snorts, putting a can of sauce into her basket, “And yet you’re somehow around us whenever you’re ‘on break’ “

Adam made a face and kept quiet, he doesn’t have a good comeback he has to admit so he turned to Addie, “Mommy’s being a cunt huh princesss? Yes she iissss”

Y/n’s eyebrow twitched and pushed Adam’s face away from her laughing kid, “Can you not curse around my baby??”

He only rolled his eyes before looking down at the sorry excuse of groceries in the cart. Something in his gut recoiled.

| What do you mean?? She can’t be mine!

“Your choices suck ass Y/n” Adam frowned, taking the cart and started shoving actual food into the cart.

| Well...why wouldn’t she tell me then?

“H-hey! It’s not my fault this place has limited stuff-Adam!” Y/n cringed as he grabbed stuff left and right not even checking for the price or sales or even if it was qualified for a coupon before dropping them into the cart.

He even grabbed some of those yogurt bites for Addie.

“Adam” Y/n grabbed his arm, before he could grab a bag of fruit. “Listen…I appreciate the stuff and the concert tickets—”

“Which you didn’t go to and how did you even know it was me sending you those packages?” He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, “Maybe next time, change your name on the Amazon packages before sending it to my house” Y/n sighs, rubbing her face tiredly. Adam, I can’t afford this stuff…if you think I can you’re sorely mistaken”

Raising a brow, Adam placed the bag of fruit in to the filled cart and started wheeling it to the check out, “And what makes you think I’m letting you pay?”

The cashier started to swipe the stuff in one by one, the prices going up and up.

“Adam—”

“We need to talk Y/n”

Y/n frowned, looking at the man staring nonchalantly at the numbers on the screen before tapping his card easily to pay for everything.

There wasn’t a hint of joking around on his face which was unusual for the normally unserious musician.

Adam took Addie from the cart and carried her, escorting Y/n to the parking lot and letting the cart jockeys help with loading the groceries into the back of his truck.

Y/n wet her lips, already having an idea on what the talk would be with the way Adam was looking at Addie and the way he’s so familiar with holding her…

Shit.

I may have rushed it a little lol

Tags: @sniigura

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #90 Day BBD #adam hazbin x reader #xreader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x you

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 month ago

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Kitty with a Knife, Kitty with a Knife! (Astarion x GN! Ghost Reader)

Synopsis: (Can be read independently from the main story) You haunted Szarr Palace for almost three centuries and in that time, you became close friends with Astarion- learning how to communicate between the spirit world and the physical world. Now? In your heroic deed to save Astarion, you possessed a cat and deemed yourself Astarion's protector. When Astarion leaves you behind to save Wyll's father in the Iron Throne- you take advantage of your littleness to get your way.

CW: Descriptions of violence, mentions of in game lore

Author note: all likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you for supporting me and my hobby!

Sea sickness never occurred to you when you snuck into Astarion’s bag of holding- refusing to let him go to the Irone Throne without you and potentially die was not a thought you were comfortable enough with.

However, your ignorance is now the thing that has given you away. Astarion’s shaking of the bag only makes it worse and you plop out onto the floor, and promptly hop up on your paws and vomit.

“G-grief and a half,” you cough and stumble a bit, “being alive is terribly inconvenient sometimes.”

“Darling!” Astarion scolds you, “I told you to stay put!”

You struggle with your nausea for a bit longer before you blink it away- flicking your tail at him and very aware of his companions watching both of you.

“Oh ho! Do not get mad at me, Mister!” You yowl, “this is practically a suicide mission! Are you mad!?”

You heard Gortash’s warning- did no one else!?

He scoffs and throws his head back like an embarrassed teen, “it’s not a suicide mission if you intend on surviving, my Dear.”

“That is-! You are-! AHHHHHHHHH!”

You begin to attack his feet and Astarion jumps past you, running around the little submarine to get away from you.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“YOU CAN’T GO IF YOU HAVE BAD SHOES!”

“STOP IT YOU ABSOLUTE FREAK!”

This goes on for a solid three minutes before Karlach finally intervenes, fighting back tears as she tries to be serious. You are cradled against her chest while you and Astarion leer at each other.

This silly man makes poor, silly decisions and these fools are letting him!

“He will be okay, Tunes,” Karlach says while scratching between your ears like you so enjoy, “I assure you that he will be back.”

You grumble something incomprehensible before stalking away and sitting far away from Astarion who has his arms crossed- also avoiding you. You sniff, looking out the window and watching more water going by.

You really don’t want him to get hurt or worse. You are aware that Withers can bring him back, but that still doesn’t make you feel better. It still means he has to be in significant amounts of pain and afraid for too long.

They eventually dock and you watch glumly as Astarion flies down the ladder first, not even bothering to look at you or any of his other companions. The Captain informs them they only have 10-20 minutes before they need to get the Hells out of here. Tav says she will relay the information to their “crabby friend” as the captain called Astarion.

Every second passing by is worse than the last. Two minutes, then four pass, and Duke Ravenguard is here. More refugees and eventually Tav, Gale, Lae’zel and Karlach. Wyll even comes back with a few more prisoners.

Astarion is still nowhere to be seen.

Shadowheart comes up, a decent size cut on her side and she is looking around, panicked.

“Astarion- we- we ran into trouble,” she says as she struggles to get up, “he told me to go ahead- that he would get Omeelum and be here before-“

That was basically all you needed- you hear them call after you as you leap down the ladders and into the metal death trap Gortash calls a prison. You sniff the air and immediately catch his scent- there are strange fish creatures everywhere, but you are certain you can hide from them- even in water that is belly deep.

You pad along quickly, following the way that is the opposite of where Astarion went. There has to be a loop around- if someone is attacking him, the best help you can provide is a surprise attack.

And claws. Lots of claws.

You catch his scent down another hallway and head that way- you can hear him fighting and a cry of pain echoes through the air. Now you are sprinting as quickly as you can through the water and you skid around the corner- two weird fish people are cornering him, one of his daggers is far away from him, but, luckily for you, it’s the little Sussur Bark one that fits in between your teeth.

You grab the dagger and go charging forward- cutting the Achilles heels on both creatures and they both go falling forward. Astarion gets up and stabs through the one while you jump atop of the other- claws in it’s head and making it scream- before you awkwardly stab it’s head with the dagger. Astarion helps to provide the actual killing blow.

Once both creatures are dropped, you take a moment to breathe.

That was too close.

You are being scooped up by Astarion, who is uncharacteristically quiet, and you get to Omeelum- all three of you being teleported back just in the knick of time.

You expect Astarion to be mad at you- begin chastising you in front of everyone- but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits down where you last sat and holds you close to him. He scratches your ears and you can hear his breathing better- Astarion is panicking still. You can’t imagine the idea of being blown up underwater really appealed to him and that had almost been his reality.

You purr and nuzzle his face- you feel a few stray tears wet your fur and a sigh of relief. You let your fur soak up the other tears, trying not to bring attention to Astarion- thankfully everyone is so focused on Duke Ravenguard that he can have some privacy.

“You are safe, Astarion,” you say softly, “You need a bath, but you are okay.”

Astarion snorts, “that bad, huh?”

“Uhhhhh…. let’s just say fish blood isn’t anyones scent to begin with.”

“And here I thought I was pulling it off.”

“Whatever helps you trance at night.”

He pretends to look offended, but his laughter isn’t helping. Astarion continues to pet you and scratch your ears. You purr, much to your own disdain.

“You could have died. You do know that, right?” Astarion whispers, “I would have been fine.”

“I- I know,” you sit down on the chair next to him, avoiding his eyes, “but I didn’t want you to be in pain. You have had enough of that for more than one lifetime.

“I know you can defend yourself and you are plenty capable, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry. If that bothers you-“

“It doesn’t,” he interrupts you, “it’s nice… to be worried about and having someone have my comfort in mind.

“Thank you- for everything.”

You are positively shell shocked, but your chest glows with warmth and pride. You made him feel better! And cared for! That’s all you have ever aimed to do!

You lay down and put your head on his lap- Astarion chuckles and scratches your ears. You close your eyes and just let yourself enjoy the fact that you are both alive to see another day.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion romance #bg3 spoilers #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion angst #astarion x f! reader #astarion x gn!reader

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aplaceinthedark · 3 months ago

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chapter 5: WHEN the NIGHT'S DUE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2.5k+

CW: Supernatural themes, mentions of witchcraft

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

“I'll do it.”

I told Nick those words forty-eight hours after his proposal. He had looked up from his drawing tablet with wide green eyes, and he nearly let out his breath when I continued.

“On one condition.”

I learned his Practice. Despite not having his Gift, I had learned that I could be taught how to do certain things. I had done it once, maybe I could do it again.

“You casted that location spell because of my essence nestled in your soul,” Nick had explained. He had used his own soul to heal me, and I kept a hold of it until it could find its way back to Nick: when I used it to bring him back from the dead.

“But you could still teach me so I can help you with the hex books.” I had even fluttered my eyelashes at him.

Honestly, it hadn't taken much persuading to get him to yield. "After the Ritual, we’ll start,” he said, kissing me on the nose.

And that's how I found myself reading a translated hex book, lying on my stomach on a warm, dry rock.

The first day of May fortunately provided a steady warmth, though it didn't extend to this part of the woods. Thankfully the sun was out, warming the spot Jolly and I occupied. Over the months, I had learned to use Jolly's music as a way to focus, and now I could resist the alluring magic of it.

Where Folio had become the energetic younger brother and Noah had become the annoying middle child, Jolly was more my friend than the others. We could sit in companionable silence and be fine, as opposed to the other two haints. I just wish I could see him more often, since he was confined to the river that ran through the Holler.

The same Holler which would be the scene for tonight.

That thought crept up on me again, and I shook my head as if that could erase it. Nick was back at our home, preparing for tonight. Apparently, there were “things he had to prep,” which he wouldn't tell me about. Of course, he told Noah, which didn't help my uneasiness.

My anxiousness started to bubble in the pit of my stomach, so I closed my eyes and focused on Jolly again:

“I thought I wanted legacy; I thought I wanted fame. I didn't know I'd lose all my loved ones in exchange,” he sang quietly, barely audible over the strings of his guitar. “Left them all behind, and, yeah, for that I am ashamed, but that's the price I'm paying ‘til I'm buried in my grave.”

“When did you make that one?” I asked.

Jolly continued plucking at the strings. “This one was one of the first songs I made,” he said.

“You haven't played it before.”

“I play it a lot, lilla. You're just not around for it.”

I made a face at his back. He let out a throaty chuckle.

“Your entourage is back,” Jolly said suddenly.

I looked over my shoulder and along the riverbank to see Folio making his way through the shallows. The New Moon was over, so he wasn't confined to his Grim shape, but I could tell he was still suffering from what Noah liked to call “Dog Brain.”

“Up and at ‘em, Bunny,” Folio said, flashing his sharp teeth up at me. I rolled my eyes.

“Until next time, Jolly,” I said, gathering my things and stuffing them into my bag. Jolly hummed out a response.

“You could always provide tonight's mood music!” Folio joked, earning a glare from the two of us.

I unsteadily made my way down the rock until I was in Folio's reach. He suddenly wrapped his hands around my waist, picking me up and putting me down on ground level. His hands lingered, especially when he threw an arm around my shoulders as we walked into the forest.

“Uh, Fish?” I piped up.

“Hm?”

“You're being handsy,” I said.

He jerked away with a hastily mumbled apology. I heard him mumble something about “must be near the time of the month.”

Slowly we made our way back to the house, where Nick was waiting for us. Folio immediately beelined for the shower, and I almost made it to the dining room table before Nick intercepted me.

“Nicky–” I was cut off when he placed his lips along my neck. “Nick, Folio's here.”

“I don't care,” Nick muttered into my skin, kissing a path up to my jaw.

“You'll care when he gets whipped up into a frenzy. Remember the last time that happened?”

He sighed, pulling away. “I hate that you're right,” he said.

“You alright? You never jump on me like this,” I said.

His response was not what I expected. “Let's just… call the whole thing off. Maybe there's another way in the hex books–”

“Nicholas Ryan Ruffilo, this was your idea.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Nick groaned. “I know, I know, but…” he trailed off, then sighed again. “I'm sorry. Working on the ritual for tonight has got me annoyed.”

“Anything I could do to help?" I asked.

“Nope, I'm done. The next steps are in Noah’s and your hands.”

I grimaced, and I was about to agree with him when Folio came out of the bathroom. “Guys, you're gonna undo what the cold shower did if you keep it up," he grumbled.

“Then I suppose you're not staying for dinner?” Nick asked.

“Did those words come out of my mouth? I'm sure those words didn't come out of my mouth.”

I don't know how we were able to have a normal supper despite the gravity of the night hanging over us, but we did. It was a little bit quieter, since Folio wasn't his usual chatty self. Not to mention Noah was missing.

Folio didn't stay long after that. “What's his problem? Did I miss something?” I asked.

“He's grouchy because he doesn't get a turn. His words, not mine," Nick said. I rolled my eyes.

With the sun setting, Nick started getting' everything ready. I watched him put several things in a bag, including candles and a thermos. “Is there something I'm supposed to do?" I asked.

“As much as I don't want to, I have to send you into the woods," Nick said. Seeing my worried face, he hurriedly continued. “Don't worry, Noah's got the path locked down. He'll meet you halfway and take you to the Grove.”

“And when we get there?” I asked.

“Take the candles and place them in a circle. The biggest one goes at the base of the big oak tree. You'll know which one it is when you see it," he said, his back to me as he opened the fridge. “That's the candle that gets lit last. You both drink the tea that's in there. That'll help with… the warmth."

“And then?”

“You know what happens next," he said. “As long as it… takes.”

“As long as it takes? What's that supposed to mean?” I asked incredulously.

“As long as it takes. Could be a few minutes, could be all night," he said. He turned around and placed a bunch of flowers on the table.

"Nick. I'm thirty. Not to mention crippled,” I said.

“I don't know, that's never stopped you before,” he said, weakly smiling at me. “Is the tattoo not helping?”

“It's fine,” I said. I sighed. “Do I have to wear something? Or can I just wear what I have on now?”

He eyed my borrowed Deftones shirt and jeans. "Honestly? That's fine. You just have to wear that.” He pointed to the flowers.

“I have to wear a bouquet?” I asked

“Listen, it's been a while since I made a flower crown. And my sister wasn't exactly the best teacher.”

Nick gently placed the flower crown on my head. It shifted downwards, one side more than the other. It pushed my bangs into my eyes, concealing Nick behind a curtain of blonde.

“Alright, that’s kinda cute.”

I pushed the crown up. “Alright, anything else?” I asked.

There was only a moment before Nick crowded me against the door, his full lips crashing onto mine. I met him with the same amount of fervor, forgetting what I had to do tonight. As I opened my mouth to him, he groaned and pulled away.

“If we continue, I won't be able to let you go out there,” he said. He turned and picked up the bag. “Guess that means it's time to go.”

Nick slipped his denim jacket onto me before we went outside. The warmth from earlier had vanished, probably even before the sun had set. The familiar background noise of the forest was comforting.

Nick led me down to where the weeds separated my lawn from the woods. He then pressed a flashlight into my hand and slipped the bag onto my shoulder.

“Just keep walking in a straight line until you see Noah,” he said. “And you know the rules.”

“Eyes straight, don't conversate,” I said our motto from memory.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He kissed my forehead. “Love you, Bun.”

“Love you, Nicky.”

“If he treats you bad, kick his ass,” he said.

I nodded and started walking. As soon as both feet were inside the forest, all sounds stopped. The urge to look back at Nick was strong, but the third rule was stronger. Don't look back.

I didn't know how long I had been walking. My phone was back at the house since it never worked right in the deep woods. The only way I could tell the time was by how tired my legs were and how my hip protested. Nick's enchanted tattoo could only do so much.

The worst part was that Noah wasn't talking. I tried casting out my thoughts, but all I got was radio silence… brain silence? Whatever it could be called. I asked him how much further, can't he just meet me now, all that. Nothing. It was just me, my flashlight, and the eerie forest.

I had started to think that maybe he had called the whole thing off when I heard a noise behind me. My footsteps faltered a bit, but I kept walking. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large shadow disappear. Not like my humanoid shadow; this one looked like an animal.

It's probably Folio, making sure you're safe, I told myself. They wouldn't leave you out here in danger.

It was hard to keep my eyes forward, especially when I knew that presence was there. And especially when it kept circling closer and closer.

Just Folio just Folio just Folio.

It passed the corner of my vision again, closer this time, and with startling horror, I realized it was twice as big as Folio and wasn't white.

NOAH FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK–

Suddenly, the Thing vanished. I could hear heavy steps retreating, as if it got scared or was lured away. I stopped my trek for a moment, sucking in my breath to calm my frantically beating heart.

When I let out my breath, I noticed it was visible. I had passed into the holler.

“You made it.”

I gasped as I whipped towards Noah's voice. Noah blinked as the beam of my flashlight hit his face. He was just standing there, hands in the pockets of his ratty jeans.

"What the hell was even–” I cut myself off, realizing I was practically shouting. Lowering my voice, I asked, "What was that?”

Recovered, Noah frowned, brow furrowing. “Something definitely not from the Valley, and definitely not from this part of the mountains.”

“You could've at least acknowledged me," I said, wrapping Nick's jacket tighter around me. The flower crown slipped a little further down, almost obscuring my vision again. I pushed it back up with a finger.

Despite the low light from the flashlight, I caught a flicker of fear on Noah's face before he schooled it back to one of indifference. “C’mon, we still have a ways to go.” He turned and walked away.

“Hang on–” I stumbled after him. A sharp pain shot up from my knee. “Ow! I just hiked here. Can't I get a… break?”

“We have to get started before midnight,” Noah said, but at least he stopped.

“Oh yeah, let's fuck after I climbed and was tailed by some unknown Thing–”

Noah had been moving back to me, but I didn’t anticipate him picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. “Noah! What are you–” I demanded. The flower crown had fallen onto the ground, and it was quickly abandoned as Noah started walking.

“Taking you to the Grove. What else would it be?” he asked, his tone cold.

“Listen, you ass,” I snapped, pushing myself up to where my upper half was parallel to the ground. “Put me down or I'll–”

“What? Kick my ass?" he snorted. The urge to punch him right in the center of his back tree tattoo was rising.

“Nick told me to if you were an ass to me,” I shot back.

“He told me, and I would love to see you try.”

“At least carry me with some dignity instead of manhandling–"

I was suddenly tipping backwards as he pulled me off his shoulder and put me back on the ground. I stumbled back a few steps before catching myself.

"I'm not doing this if all we're gonna do is bicker the whole way there,” he said.

“Noah, all I wanted was a break. I'm in pain," I stated. “And before you say that that's why you were carrying me, you practically folded me in half over your shoulder.”

Noah was clenching and unclenching his hands. If I hadn't known better, I would've said he was trying to prevent himself from hitting me. Except I knew it was a nervous tic.

“Noah, what's wrong?" I asked.

With one breath, he thawed. “I can't– I don't–” the stammered before pausing. He looked back up from the ground to me, that fear from earlier painted clearly on his face. “I don't think I can do this.”

My mouth went dry. All that time trying to get me warmed up to this idea, and we never considered to ask Noah if he was still up for this. “Noah, it's okay."

“No it's not!" he shouted. "I've only been the Watcher for barely several years, and I fucked that up! What's not to say I don't fuck up this?”

Oh.

“Well, what's to say that I don't fuck this up?" I asked. “I don't know what I'm doing either.”

That seemed to ease him a little bit. I closed the distance and placed my hand on his arm. “Let's go be fuck-ups. Together.”

That got him to smile a little bit. “Fine. Let's go be fuck-ups," he said. He then held out his arms. “Your carriage, m’lady. Gender neutrally saying, of course.”

Instead I dodged around him and jogged back to the flower crown. I picked it up and plopped it back onto my head. I then ran back to him and bent at the knees. He scooped me up with an ease that surprised me.

And we went to the Grove. Together.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon (you know what it is)

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sleepymarimo · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭.

summary: you and toji meet up at a horse race, waiting for shiu to show up and give you your next job... pairing: toji x fem!assassin!reader cw: none! author note: some funny/fluffy stuff w our favorite sorcerer killer bc im having toji brainrot and had time before class.. wc: 750

when you had gotten assigned on a mission with 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 a month ago, you didn’t expect to meet a 6’2”, muscled up, overly handsome raven haired assassin.

and a sweet talking one at that.

you didn’t expect him to completely fuck up the mission halfway through, killing the target well before your signal.

and after you managed to clean up his mess, you definitely didn’t expect shiu to toss you a extra few hundred yen for keeping the sorcerer killer in line.

one mission became two, then three. and, well…

now here you are, sitting on some flimsy plastic seats at the racetrack where toji insisted on meeting.

he’s late, obviously, but you basked in those few moments of peace and quiet. the calm before the storm.

another thing you didn’t expect from him? how quick he was to get comfy and cozy with you, oozing a carefree attitude that was as irritating as it was amusing.

“hey partner.” he yawned, plopping down in the seat adjacent to you and letting his arm hang off the back of your seat. “d’ya miss me?”

you don’t bother moving, choosing to ignore his question altogether.

there was no escaping this beast. hell, you were already lucky enough that he hadn't broken into your place within the last week.

“hey, how’d you already spend all the cash from our last job?” you question, disapprovingly crossing your arms over your chest. “i paid, like, six months off of my rent with that!”

his hand creeps up, finding purchase on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “so i get’ta crash at your place for six more months?”

it’s a love hate relationship between coworkers.

you love to hate him, he hates to love you.

a shot rings through the air and the horses are off.

toji practically drags you with him as he leans forward, a half-grin on his face as he eagerly keeps an eye on his sure to be winning horse.

like a rag doll, you just let it happen. your eyes flicker down to the ticket in his hand. “i bet on a different horse.”

“eh? you finally placed one?” he smirks, a hint of surprise in his emerald irises as he rasps out his next words in a low tone. “look at ya, princess, falling under my bad influence. i’ll take ya to dinner once my horse follows through.”

focusing your attention on the equids sprinting down the track, you shrug and huff out a laugh. “don’t bet on it…”

of course… his horse fails to follow through. when does it ever?

you don’t attempt to bite back your smile at the sight of his admittedly adorable pout.

he clicks his tongue and growls out a curse, his level of comfort around you apparent as he freely expresses his distaste towards the whole situation. “stupid fuckin’ horse…”

holding up your ticket, you wave it in the air for emphasis. “hey, i see why you like this stuff! maybe i won’t have to take this next job, since i just won.”

“bullshit.” his head snaps toward you, before looking away with a click of his tongue. “you serious?”

standing, you pretend to dust off your clothes. “don’t need the job anymore. tell shiu i’m out.”

strong arms wrap around you at a speed that you'll never quite get used to. you’re anchored to his chest, his eyes amusedly peering down at you between strands of ink black hair.

“like hell you are, sweetheart.” he smirks, scarred lips quirking upward. “hey, lemme see your ticket.”

later, when the broker steps into the designated section within the stands, he shakes his head at the sight before him.

fishing for a cigarette, he makes himself known, but makes no move to break up the show.

toji has an arm around your waist, holding you flush to his side. his expression radiates boredom, almost full blown apathy, as if he’s blind to how you thrash against him.

he’s completely unbothered with the palm that’s plastered to his face, attempting to push him away. the knee that you’re digging into his abdomen does nothing to deter him.

“‘ji!” you’re fuming, pride wounded at how easily the assassin can keep you in place. “let go already! it was a joke!”

when toji finally decides to acknowledge the former detective, he lazily raises his free hand in a sort of haphazard wave.

“‘ey, shiu.” he brings you closer, enough to feel your burning cheeks against his skin. “whatcha got for us?”

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader

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devildomwriter · 1 year ago

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Believe In What Your Heart is Saying | Leviathan x Reader

.6K Words | GN! Reader | CW: none

Leviathan struggled to calm his heart as he paced his floor, occasionally bumping against the jellyfish lights as he did so.

Henry watched from the aquarium concerned. Leviathan didn’t usually get like this over anything other than his anime and idols and this time Leviathan mouthed the same thing over and over again. The red shade on his face didn’t dim no matter how many times he practiced.

“___, will you, b-b-be, be-b-b-be! Aaaack I can’t say it! Why can’t I say it!?” Leviathan bemoaned and turned to Henry. He placed his hand against the tank and asked Henry for help but the fish did not know how to respond.

Leviathan nodded. “You’re right! I’m too pathetic. They’ll just say no, so why bother?”

Henry blew bubbles at Leviathan trying to communicate he’d said no such thing and Leviathan continued to belittle himself until the clock struck eight and he jumped to his feet, panicking.

“I-is it already time!?” He gasped and quickly requested the password.

“The Christmas password is Ruri’s Santa uniform is the cutest in the worlds!” You called from the other side of the door.

Leviathan swallowed the knot in his throat and opened the door with a shaking hand. He had to keep it together, he couldn’t let you notice anything was different.

But when he saw you in your cute Christmas sweater with a bucket of popcorn to share with him, his blush deepened.

“What’s up with you, Levi? You’re redder than Rudolph’s nose.”

Leviathan laughed awkwardly at your Christmas reference and gestured to the beanbags in front of his TV.

“L-let’s sit down n-now.”

You raised a brow at him curiously, knowing he was acting oddly but agreed. You sat down on the beanbag and Leviathan rushed to grab a throw blanket for you. He wrapped it around you and you beamed up at him.

“Thanks! You’re the sweetest.”

“Wh-huh? Like lol…no j-just…being a good host!”

Leviathan sat down next to you but not as closely as usual.

“What happened with you? Did I finally lose to Ruri-Chan?”

“Huh!? What? Like that’s even possible you’re a million times cuter than Ruri!”

You weren’t expecting that direct of an answer and blushed. As soon as Levi realized what he’d said his face turned even redder than it had been all day.

Henry watched in anticipation from the aquarium as Levi hid in his sweater and tried stuttering an excuse.

“Wh-wh-what I meant was—“

“You’re cute too Levi!” You exclaimed.

“C-cute…?” He didn’t seem too enthused at being called cute although he was still blushing.

“Yes. And handsome.” You said matter of factly.

“Huh! N-no way. Not some gross normie otaku like me!”

You shook your head and glared at him and he gulped in surprise.

“Stop putting yourself down. Are you saying I’m a bad judge?”

He looked shocked and shook his head. “N-no. Everything you do and say is perfect.”

“We’ll I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Oh no, did I say something stupid? Ugh!”

Levi tried to back away but you didn’t let him and wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t worry. You didn’t say anything wrong. Now come on. We’re watching Christmas movies, aren’t we? I’ve been really excited about this.”

“M-me too. I’ve been excited too…B-Because…” he whispered the last part too quietly for you to hear so you leaned in face close to his.

Leviathan blinked in surprise. Assuming you’d heard him confess his feelings, he leaned in to meet your lips.

You were surprised he’d be so bold and realized what he must’ve said as he cupped your cheek with his hand. You blushed and grinned into the gentle touch of your lips.

The kiss was a little awkward but it meant everything to you. He finally pulled away, red and you’re face matched his. You weren’t expecting him to finally confess, it caught you by surprise.

“Hey, Levi…”

“Y-yeah?”

“Tell me again.”

“What? Like, do you want me to want me to have a heart attack? Lol.”

You shook your head and batted your eyes teasingly. His demon form slipped out in his excitement and nodded.

“Then I’ll tell you as many times as you want! I-I love you!”

#obey me drabble #obey me leviathan #obey me 25 days of christmas #25 days of obey me christmas #leviathan x reader #omswd leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me x reader

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bun-z-bakery · 2 months ago

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Can you do a one shot of movie Vanessa and reader on a date on water but then the boat starts sinking cause she brought her gun and while showing it off she accidentally pulled the trigger making a hole on the boat.

I know it's specific I saw a movie and i thought this could be a funny scene

𝘚ℎ𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝑌𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘚ℎ𝘰𝘵

Paring: Vanessa Shelly x GN!Reader.

CW: Guns.

Genre: Humor, Fluff.

Words: 1k

A/N: Hello Anoie! I hope you enjoy! Also, I must know the movie!

FNAF Menu | Works Menu | Ao3 | Kofi

The breeze made the water sway, and the clear water let you see the sea life under the boat. Vanessa had asked you out on a date. She had discovered a small hidden area near a lake where she could spend some time floating across the lake with you sitting pretty across from her. It was a beautiful view. The sand was soft and warm, and the water was crystal clear. It wasn't like anything you've seen before. You were still nervous around your girlfriend; how could you not be when she gazed at you so lovingly? When Vanessa mentioned she was armed and dangerous, she really did mean it. "A-are you gonna shoot me?!" you were half joking, but by the looks of it, she totally could, seeing as she brought you to the middle of the lake.

"No, I would never do that, my love! I just wanted to show you the modifications they added to my gun."

She carefully steps forward to show you and points at the new feature in her weapon. "See? It also has a tazer. If I pull this, it'll activate. Pretty cool, right?" You opened your mouth to speak, but a yelp came out instead. A fish had jumped out of the water and landed in the boat, startling you and Vanessa. Vanessa's gun went off, shooting a hole into the boat just by the tip of your toes.

"YOU ALMOST SHOT ME!" you cried as Vanessa wrestled with the fish, trying to set it back into the water. The fish seemed to be winning. "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry!" the fish finally landed in the water with a resounding splash. It swam away quickly, leaving you and Vanessa alone with a hole in the boat. The boat begins to sink, and panic starts to set in as the water slowly, no—rapidly, begins to spill into the boat from the bullet hole. "Oh, they didn't teach us this in the police academy…" Vanessa's face paled as she contemplated what to do. "My love, my darling. I don't mean to alarm you, but we're sinking rapidly. What do we do? " You shake her shoulders a bit harshly, trying to find an answer in her eyes if she wouldn't say anything. "Okay, don't panic. Take a deep breath. It'll be okay. We just need to-" The weight of the water caused the boat to sink deeper, and the sloshing sound elevated your panic. Vanessa's gaze shifted to the water. She hesitated for a moment before taking off her soaked shoes and leaping into the water.

"Vanessa, are you insane? We don't know what's in there!" No response. "Ness!" No response again. Dread begins to set in now. You were alone on a lake in a sinking boat, and your girlfriend was probably dead now. You wanted this to be some bad dream, a vivid nightmare even. "Boo!" "Vanessa, what the hell!?" you shouted at the blonde, whose wet hair clung to her face. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and wiped her face with her hand, which was holding onto the sinking boat. "The shore isn't that far from here. We can swim it. And by the looks of it, you're practically in the water already." "No, I'm still sinking," you joked. The boat was, in fact, still sinking, just a bit slower than before.

"Let's swim to shore. I got you." Vanessa places a hand on your arm and pulls you into her chest. The water was cold against your legs, but being fully submerged almost made your teeth chatter. It's too cold, and you both need to leave the water before night falls. The shore isn't far off, but luckily, you can see the shoreline. "I got you, I got you," Vanessa repeated herself. She began pulling you by your forearm, kicking her feet, and swimming both of you toward the shore. You begin to kick your feet now, and Vanessa never lets you go. The shoreline becomes closer and closer until you can feel the warmth of the sand on your hands, knees, and feet. You both managed to make it safely to land. Throwing yourself on your back, you pant. Your gaze finds Vanessa, who's lying on her stomach next to you. You begin to laugh loudly, earning a confused look from her. "No guns next time, okay, Ness?" Vanessa giggles and responds. "I promise, no guns, just these." she finger-guns you with both hands, which sends you both into a laughing fit.

"Hey, my love." "Yes?" Vanessa sighs before she continues. "I'm sorry for this. This was supposed to be a sweet date. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm so sorry." She pushes a wet strand of hair out of your face and kisses your cheek. "Ness, I still had such a good time. You put so much thought into this, and I thank you for that. I enjoyed every moment of it, even the swimming part." She smiles softly. She was madly in love with you, and you with her; how could she not be? "How about this?" she begins, sitting up and brushing off some sand from her clothes and arms. "We continue the date back at my place, shower, dinner, and a movie?" Your eyes were practically pleading with hers. Even though she knew you'd say yes, Vanessa feared you might say no after today. "I would love that. Let's get going!"

Bonus

Vanessa lovingly wraps a cozy blanket around you before settling beside you on the couch. As you nuzzle closer to her, you feel her warmth and smile.

"Next date, I promise to plan the most romantic experience ever!" Vanessa says, holding you tightly, fearing you might slip away from her. "Just being with you is all I need. I'm so thankful we're safe," you reply sincerely.

"Me too," she whispers.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead, she presses play on the movie, and as the evening unfolds, you both happily drift off in each other's arms, wrapped in warmth and love.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#fnaf #vanessa sb #vanessa afton #vanessa monroe #vanessa #vanessa shelly x you #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly x y/n #vanessa shelly x reader one shot #bun z receipt

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