#first it wouldn’t do pen pressure

[howgalling]

7 hours later I get my pen pressure working again. 😒

[killergee]

Part 3! Sorry for the late update, but here's the last part, my friends. I had no idea what to do, so I fell into a good old trope. Slight nsfw, but it’s mainly just Hoshina and his dirty mind, hehe. Oh, and some kissing.

Summary: Angry, frustrated, jealous, and trapped in an elevator. Who will crack first?

P1 P2 P3

Tagslist: @surprisemodafakas @yrxhyes @voidsatoru @vash-yuu @er0ssu @rosesandquartzz

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

Hoshina knew he was the only one at fault for testing his own patience, but God was he so sure he was going to explode if things continued like this.

He wanted you to be the one to take the final step and cross the distance. He wanted to see you want him like you said you did so many months ago. To see that passion for him once again.

That didn’t mean he waited around for you to confess, though. No, he didn’t hold back when it came to you.

If anything, he became greedy when it came to you.

Hoshina didn't know how he survived before, now knowing what your touch felt like. It felt like fire on his skin. One that left a burning desire that he only knew to quell by grasping at you for more. Yet, even then, it wasn't enough. You always left him wanting more. You left him clinging to what was left of his sensibilities to not take you there and then. Hoshina thinks he must be a masochist because of how he kept pushing for more, knowing you'll reject him or that he'll have to stop himself before he goes too far and ruins everything.

Yet, when you did accept his affections, the feeling was unparalleled. When you did reciprocate, it made him feel butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel a different type of warmth, a different sense of fulfillment. One that told him it was worth it to keep trying.

So, he gave in to his desires again and again and again. As long as he doesn't straight-up confess, he still has a shot at making you take action. Right?

Hoshina groans as he finishes another one of his reports. Mina has been working him to the bone lately. Taking him out of sessions to work on mission plans, interrupting him mid lunch to accompany her to meetings, even going as far as interrupting his midnight training sessions with you to ask for his opinion on the production of a new weapon. Hoshina swears he’s barely seen you for the last two weeks because of this. To say he was a bit annoyed would be an understatement. Especially since because of his busy nature, Mina delegated his tasks to you to handle. Tasks that included working with his unit.

Now, this normally wouldn’t be a problem if Kafka hadn’t taken such a liking to you. Hoshina should’ve known Kafka would like you after he overheard your conversation with him the first time. While trapped in his office, it takes all his efforts to not jump out the window and tell Kafka to take a step back from you. He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, stress, or withdrawal from your presence, but he felt absurdly angry at seeing you being so friendly with Kafka. Hell, even seeing you laughing with his unit left a bitter taste in his mouth.

While you and his unit seemed to be getting closer, you and Hoshina haven’t made any progress at all since that night. Hoshina felt frustrated on so many different levels and mixed with the pressure to not disappoint his superior, Hoshina was so wired he could barely sit still. He nearly snapped his pen in half just thinking about it.

He either needed to train or fuck this out of his system.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything. The words on the paper in front of him were starting to blur, and he was seconds away from writing “because this is stupid” as his rationale for rejecting proposals.

Looking up at the clock and seeing the hand tick closer to 2am, he groans into his hands and decides that the responsible choice would be to go to sleep and pray that tomorrow never came.

Putting on his jacket, he barely gives his desk a second glance as he leaves to lock the office door. Once in the elevator, he pushes the button to the fourth floor and immediately slumps against the railing on the wall of the elevator. With his hundredth sigh of the day, he tries to think on the brighter side. Since no one would be up at this god forsaken hour, he didn’t need to wait for the elevator to open on every floor.

When the elevator stops, Hoshina rolls his eyes at his luck. Looking up at the ceiling and exhaling, he doesn’t bother to acknowledge the person entering the elevator.

It wasn’t until he heard the familiar click of your tongue does he snap his head down to see you standing beside him.

There you were.

Standing with your arms crossed and staring at the doors of the elevator as if they’ve wronged you. The object of his affections and his frustrations. The person he was craving most at the moment.

Seeing you in the flesh again, skin pink probably from showering, shirt unbuttoned a little too low combined with the scent of your faded shampoo wafting through the elevator…

Fuck it, the training room will have to do, Hoshina decides, quickly leaning forward to press the button to the second floor. He can feel the weird look you’re giving him, but he decides for both of your sakes he’s going to keep looking at the doors. God, he couldn’t believe your presence alone was doing it for him. He needed out now.

But, unfortunately for him, the world continued to ignore his wishes. With a slight tremble, the elevator slows in its tracks until it abruptly stops. Not being able to believe his luck, it wasn’t until the lights began to dim that he lets out a curse.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hears you say as you immediately dig into your pocket to get your phone. Pressing the help button on the elevator, he waits for you to finish your call with security. With the way you were scowling, he knew the news couldn’t be good. With it also being so late, he doubts anyone would come rescue you guys any time soon.

“Yea sure, we can have super suits and high-tech weapons, but god forbid we have a working elevator” you mumble sarcastically after hanging up the phone. Barely looking at him, you announce, “they said they’ll have it fixed within an hour.”

“That’s fucking great,” Hoshina groans, massaging his temples with one hand as he curses whatever god fucking with him right now. Finally turning to look at you, he notices how far you were from him. You were practically squishing yourself into the corner of the elevator to distance yourself. With the night taking away his patience, he comments without any restraint. "Now what’s got ya so pissed off?”

You turn to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said what’s got ya so mad ya can’t even stand to be in the same space as me,” Hoshina scoffs, adding fuel to the flames. “Scared I got cooties? A little too late for that, I’m sure.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You hiss, anger rolling off you. The piercing glare you sent his way satisfied him in a twisted way he couldn’t understand. He’ll blame the adrenaline and the frustration.

“What are you even doing here so late? Ah, sneaking out from the Captain’s room, I’m sure." You spit venomously, mocking his phrasing. "Wasn’t satisfied enough, so you’re coming to me?”

“Now what the hell are ya going on about?”

Your eyes narrow a fraction more. “Oh sorry, Vice-Captain. Did I hit a nerve? Sad that the Captain didn’t like you enough to let you stay the night?”

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re lucky no one else is here to hear you say that. If ya weren’t you, I’d have you punished for talking about Min- Captain Ashiro like that.” Shit, he was losing his grip.

You let out a hollow chuckle devoid of any humour. “No, no, you don’t need to correct yourself like that in front of me, Vice-Captain. I won’t tell anyone,” you say, drawing out the syllables of his title.

“Don’t call me that, y/n,” he growls. “Nothing is going on betwe-”

“You think I’m fucking stupid? Everything you’ve done to me. The late night training sessions, 'working' together on reports, having lunch together, everything that we’ve done together you’re now off doing it with her.” You continue, your voice getting more heated with every word. “Her interrupting us again and again, you think I can’t take a fucking hint? I know my place now, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”  

“Y/n, it’s nothing like that. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t b-”

His explanation falls on deaf ears as you continue your angry rant. “You know what? Kafka was right.”

Heart stopping, the flash of heat Hoshina felt throughout his body broke the dam holding the last bits of his sanity. “What’s Kafka got to do with anything?”

“Kafka noticed how you two were always together for the last couple of weeks. I told him it was nothing, but I guess I owe him an apology. I’d hate to see the look on his face when I tell him.”

“Ya seriously trusting Kafka over me?”

“I mean, why not? He’s trustworthy, he’s kind, he’s reliable-”

Hoshina lets out a hostile scoff, “Oh, and I’m not?”

“He’s never touched me and then gone off and-”

“He’s never what?” Hoshina pushes off the wall, making his way into your corner. “He better not touch you the way I do. And even if he did," his eyes gleam in a dangerous manner, "he'll never be able to make you feel the way I make you feel.”

Hoshina's tone is strong and sure. “Stop talking about that damn brat and listen. Nothing is going on between me and the Captain. I do not like her like that and I can promise you I never will.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you hesitate. But you need his words. You need solid proof that he feels the same need for you that you do for him—so you push on anyway. “How can I be sure? How can I trust you?”

Not one to backdown, you meet him in the middle before he could completely corner you. With your finger to his chest, Hoshina takes a step back. His attempt to put space between you doesn't deter you as you push forward. In fact, it emboldens you to press on until his back hits the wall and your as nose to nose as you possibly can with your height difference.

Hoshina couldn’t think straight. The only thing he hears from you is jealousy, and it's going straight down to his dick. The feel of your body on his, the heat of the argument, the intensity of your glare, he was about to snap. "Please don't do that," Hoshina hisses.

“Where’s all the heat from before? Answer my question."

"Y/n." 

The sternness of his voice makes you falter. 

His hands raise slightly in a sign of surrender. "Don't touch me if you're not willing to take responsibility for your actions." He says in a teasing voice, but even you could hear the strain in them. 

“What are you talking about.”

“If ya touch me now, I can’t promise ya that I’ll be a gentleman about it.” As if warning you about what's to come, Hoshina brings his hands down onto your hips, pulling you close until your hips press against his. His actions evoke a different kind of heat than your argument.

“How could I ever want anyone else when you’re the only one who’s always on my mind. You think everything I’ve done to ya up to this point was casual? That I was only teasing ya for fun?”

“Ya want proof? Fine.” He brings your hand to rest over his chest, his heart beating wildly at your touch. To lay it all down on the table, to bare his soul to you, he'll do it all if it means even the slightest chance you'll accept him.

"Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to move away, to not touch you, to not love you, and I will never bother you again." He grits through his teeth. "God, tell me now so I can stop myself before it's too late." Maybe it already was, but he won't tell you that. 

At your silence, his heart plummets. Hoshina lets go of your hand. “Sorry-”

"Kiss me, asshole." 

"I- what?"

"Fine, I'll do it myself." You grab the back of his head and pull him towards you, lips crashing into his in a passionate fury.

After a beat, Hoshina hungrily returns your passion. His hands back onto your body with a fervor. The kiss was heated. It tasted like frustration, anger, jealousy and want. It was exhilarating and intoxicating and Hoshina didn’t want it to end.

Breaking the kiss for air, the intensity of your gaze sends a delightful shiver up his spine. "You drive me insane, you know that? Getting off on teasing me and then trynna back away when you finally got the chance to do something, to do anything. Do I need to spell it out for you? I want you. I want you all for myself." you say, grabbing a handful of his hair with a strength that was bordering the line between painful and amazing. 

"Take responsibility? Talk about your fucking self. You've ruined me for anyone else. Do something about it."

“Yes ma’am.” Without hesitation, Hoshina dives back in for a kiss, and all that could be felt was lips on lips and the sting of teeth.

Hands grasping at every inch of your skin, he turns you and pushes you against the wall of the elevator. Lips moving from yours to your neck, his hand hungrily tugs at the top of your shirt. Unable to control his strength, the button pops, but your gasp is replaced by a moan as he bites into the expanse of your neck.

Motivated by the sounds you make, Hoshina snakes his arm behind your back—pressing your body against his in an almost suffocating manner. Blinded by his eagerness, he didn’t notice the lights turning back on and the elevator running again. It's not until the doors ding open, and you push him away does he finally come back to his senses.

Moving away from him, you use your hand to clasp at the top of your shirt—trying to replicate the security of the button he ripped off. You have half the mind to yell at him, but the smugness in his smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Satisfaction reeked from his body, and his cat-like eyes raking over yours made your knees weak.

The next time the doors open, he takes your hand in his and leads you out. "This isn't my floor," you say face flushed as you knew where he was heading.

"Yep, it's mine," he replies with uncontainable excitement.

He turns his head to glance back at you. “If I knew all it took for ya to confess was to trap ya in an elevator with me, I would’ve done this much sooner.” Hoshina says with a cheeky grin, hand gripping yours in a way that said you weren’t leaving him any time soon.

You roll your eyes, but you continue to follow him anyways. A small smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable.”

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 2

Wake up babe, new cowboy Miguel fic just dropped! This part was heavily inspired by the notebook. Period pieces are not my strong suit so apologizes if it’s not good. Not proofread, enjoy!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, mentions/usage of alcohol, attempted robbery/theft, mentions of guns, Miguel jokes about manhandling you but nothing actually happens, mentions of sexual acts, but nothing happens.

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

Five years.

Five years since you had last seen the cowboy who had stolen your heart.

You had graduated college and moved out of your parents home, moving a few towns over, nowhere near a big city like you lived in during your youth in the East but a lot larger than the one you had lived during the whole Miguel incident. You lived in a nice home, gotten a job as a teacher for the younger kids in town and… you were recently engaged.

Your fiancé was a nice man, sweet, understanding, kind, easy on the eyes, you liked him a lot, the only problem is, you didn’t love him. You should feel bad about getting married to a wealthy man who you didn’t even see as more than of a friend, but at the same time, your mother thought it would be best to marry you off to her friend’s son that just so happened to be inheriting his father’s liquor business when he settled down. It was a marriage of convenience if anything, at least he was polite with you despite neither you or him having any romantic feelings, if anything it made the whole thing a bit easier for you. Growing content with the fact that this would turn into your future children’s definition of love.

Five years to grow from a silly lovestruck teenager into a young woman with responsibilities and a bright future ahead of her, and you still thought about him. You can't help but frantically Miguel’s name under the obituary section of the town’s paper, unknowingly breathing a sigh of relief when his name wouldn’t appear. Although it was foolish, and despite no longer living in the same small town as your parents, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter at the fact he hasn’t found you yet. Was he even attempting to look for you? With a reputation like his, you’re certain you weren’t the first girl he’s charmed to get under his sheets… or in your case, jail cell. So, eventually, you stopped hoping, if he hadn’t found you during the last five years, he surely wasn’t looking. Why should you?

—

“Darling.” Your fiancé, Austin, called out for you before rounding the corner that connected the living room into the kitchen. You hummed in response as you kept your eyes on the stack of papers you were currently grading for your students, a pen in your dominant hand as your free one tapped a mindless tone to help keep you concentrated. “Put the papers down and take a break will you? You’ve got all week to grade those tests.” You let out a huff and a whine as you put the pen down, he was right. Your eyes keep unfocusing and your wrist was being to grow sore, making your fiancé tsk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just quit, I make enough to support us both.”

“I should,shouldn't I…” You contimplacted with a weary chuckle, and although your tone was joking, you were seriously considering it. You adored your students with all your heart, you really did. But the school was putting so much pressure on you because they refused to hire another teacher to help lessen your workload. So you and two other teachers were juggling a handful of 300 seven year olds, it was a lot… to say the least. You picked yourself up from your seat to stretch your body out, before turning to Austin. “Now was that all you came to tell me?” You asked in a playful tone.

“No, actually… I came to ask for a favor.” He admitted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Ya know I’ve got that… liquor convention event out of town this weekend, right?” You nodded in confirmation, “well, I was wondering if you could do me the favor of just checking in on my office while I’m gone. I’ve heard a lot about break ins and whatnot during these times, just drop by for a few minutes for the 4 days that I’ll be gone.”

You tapped the nonsensical rhythm again as you thought about it, it wasn’t too much of an ask, you’d just drop by for a few minutes a day, you shrugged. “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

—

Saturday afternoon, your first day off and your third alone. Grateful for the ability to sleep in and being about to eat a well rounded breakfast. After doing your usual morning routine, and having changed into one of your simpler dresses to go out and run some errands for the day.

Gone out to get groceries, send out a letter to your parents, went to the tailors to drop off some Austin’s shirts to be hemmed since you didn’t feel like sitting down all to do it yourself, even finished grading the last of the test all before noon ended. After tidying up your work from its usual spot from the kitchen table, you made yourself a quick lunch and went to read a few chapters of your book on the couch. Only to end up falling asleep, and once you woke up, you glanced at the clock-shit.

“It’s half past five?! I was supposed to go to his office an hour ago!” You yelled to no one but yourself as you quickly got up from your spot on the couch, fixing your hair quickly as you threw on your coat, and made your way back out the door.

—

“I told ya boys this heist would be easy… if we leave by dusk we could hit up that train that passes by el dorado tomorrow evening…” Miguel chuckled as he tossed his now full bag of valuables to his brother, who then passed it over Peter would load it to one of their horses that they had waiting for them around the back of the building.

After that night he had escaped, it took him about a month to find his partners in crime, following their trail through stolen newspapers from random porches and the knowledge of how their usual trail was, luckily they had kept his horse safe and well taken care of too.

“One more bag then we’re as good as gone.” Miguel said with a smirk, making Gabriel Let out a laugh and a clap. Right when Miguel was going to prep the last bag, the faint noise of rushing made all three men stop in their tracks. Before he sent his younger brother a glare and he hissed in a low tone through his teeth. “Pinche cabrón- I thought you said this place would be empty all weekend.” (Fucking dumbass)

“I thought it would!” He whispered-shouted back, before they heard the door creak open.

“Fuck-okay… um, go check if it’s the sheriff.” He quietly ordered Gabriel, before turning to Peter, “Get the horses ready incase we needa’ book It.” With a nob both males did as told, as Miguel quickly went to pack the last bag.

When his younger brother entered the front room, he swore he heard him mutter the words “hello pretty lady” before the muffle sound of rustling and some high-pitched yelping, but never was a shot fired, so clearly it couldn’t have been someone to play an immediate threat. Just as he was finishing tying up the bag, Gabriel came back into the room, but not alone.

“Look at what I found, it must be his little wife.” He said almost mockingly as he hazardly pulled you into the room and pushed you into the room in front of Miguel’s feet, but with your face being tilted down as you caught yourself from falling face first onto the wooden floor.

“Careful!” You yelled as you try to collect yourself, once you get yourself to look up at the bandit you were dropped in front of, your scowl immediately turned into once of disbelief, and it seems his expression matched yours.

You both seem to have froze up in time as you both did nothing but stare at each other, Gabriel just crossed his arms and raised a brow, Peter came jogging in to inform his friends the horses are ready when he saw the odd scene, opting to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, you came back to life as you blinked, as if expecting his to disappear right before your very eyes again, and when he didn’t, you finally whispered a faint. “…Miguel?”

“…(Y/N)…” You nodded your head, despite it not being a question, and he cleared his throat, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke his next orders to Peter and Gabriel. “Unload all that shit and put it back.”

—

He had told Gabriel and Peter to go on to do the train heist without him, and that he'd meet up with them afterwards. Saying he had “unattended business to take care of”. So now here he was, in your kitchen, only being lightened up by a few candles as darkness overtook the sky. Both of you sharing drunken giggles over dinner. Miguel’s black cowboy hat that was certainly too big for you sitting on top of your head as you sip on your beer.

“That hat looks adorable on you.” Miguel chuckled, making you shake your head with a giggle, your free hand going to rest on top of the hat to help keep it stabilized.

“It’s so big!” You countered as you take the hat off and went to hand it back to Miguel, who grabs it and sets it back on his head.

“You know you shouldn’t be wearing just anyone’s hat. Ya know what they say about wearing a man’s cowboy hat.” He joked as he put down his now empty bottle, chuckling when he saw your face contour in confusion.

“What do they say?” You asked curiously, making Miguel’s smirk widen.

“Wear the hat…” he tapped the brim on the hat for emphasis, “Ride the cowboy.” He finished, making you gasp dramatically.

“Miguel! That’s inappropriate!” You pretended to be offended, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile near the end of you reprimanding him.

“Oh please, you act like you haven’t before, why not again? Unless you want me to come over then and manhandle you.” He was only joking of course, he may have been a thief and a murderer but he’d never hurt a woman, especially not you. You let out a faux gasp, playing along as your right hand goes to your chest for emphasis.

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a married woman.” You said in a softer tone, going to sip your bottle to finish it off. You haven’t really told him you were going to be getting married soon, even though he knew you were in a relationship, he didn’t quite know how serious it was.

“Not yet.” He replied almost immediately, shaking his head as his playful tone dropped to a more serious yet still gentle tone. The soft smile stays on his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes anymore when you raised your hand to show off the silver band that decorates your ring finger, the diamond shining even only in the candlelight. It took you a moment too long to realize this.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, the start of a giggle comes out with your words but they quickly die down in your throat as the once playful atmosphere starts to turn more serious.Miguel just shakes his head as a hand goes to rub at his chin.

“Nothing nothing… just didn’t think you’d ever get married… thought what we had was something real.” He admitted, eyes casted downwards as he goes to fidget with a bent half beer bottle cap. You let out a scoff, offended by his words.

“Don’t try and think I just forgot about you the moment my father dragged me out of that door,” your brows furrowed and your arms crossed on the wooden table as you started to chastise him, “I was stuck on you for five years Miguel. Five. Years.” You emphasized the two words with taps on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, Austin is a great guy, but it was my parents' idea for me to marry him. They thought it was a good way to get me to stop thinking about you-“ You shouldn’t be admitting that outloud but the buzz made your mind hazy.

“Do you love him?” He interrupted you, eyes burning into yours, those same intense eyes you had dreamed about as you slept, you had to look away.

“It’s not that simple Miguel-“

“But it is.” He insisted, standing up from his seat, the chair screeching as it tried not to topple over. “You either love him or you don’t.”

“I’m not doing this with you Miguel.” You shook your head as you stood as well, going to clean up the mess you two had made, trying to erase any evidence you two were there.

“Too bad, I’m not just gonna drop this and let you disappear from my life, I’m not losing you again.” He declared, you weren’t going to justify his admission with a response, but as you go to pick up a few empty bottles, they slip from your hands, cracking into hundreds of small shreds as Miguel’s hands turn you around to face him. A shocked gasp begins to leave your lips before it is quickly swallowed up by his. You know you should push him off, but you couldn’t help but melt underneath his touch.

Miguel O’Hara was a criminal, a thief of many things and no matter how much you try to stop him, he’ll always find a way to steal your heart all over again.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @xevita @marshhbs @inlovewithpandora @vera4luv @mcmiracles @eddieslooneymoonie @to-the-endoftheline

[platypusundercover]

Hello!

I was wondering, could I please request a Boothill and Ratio x reader (Seperate) where the reader is attacked and comes home injured and covered in blood, to the surprise of their lover.(Sorry if this is too dark🥲)

Hi~ Thank you for the request! (Not too dark, don't worry!) First time writing Ratio, I was debating how to call him in there: either Ratio or Veritas, but went with the latter. I hope I wrote him alright ? It was fun to explore his character :D

Boothill

You tasted blood and that metallic under-flavor was definitely not welcome. You entered the kitchen and sighed. Boothill was hard at work on.. something that you couldn’t see on the counter, back facing you.

“I’m home.” You said simply, in a nasal voice. “And I need tissues.”

He wouldn’t have perked up without that last sentence. He looked back to you and suddenly whatever he was doing on the kitchen counter got discarded at the speed of light. You were uselessly holding a finger to your nostril trying to stop the bleeding, that already got all over your hand, chin and... collar? Nosebleed aren’t usually that bad, right?

“Wow! Hey there,” He said arriving at your side, putting a protective around your back. “Who the fork did this to you?”

“Weirdo at the bar.” You started explaining, as Boothill handed you tissues. “They were laying it on the waitress a bit too thick. I told them to back off and they didn’t like it very much.”

Boothill’s worried face eased a bit, and he couldn't refrain a grin. He knew you could handle yourself. You wouldn’t pick a fight you know you wouldn’t win. You bunched a piece of tissue into your nostril and kept the pressure with your fingers.

“I won though.” You said proudly, smiling big at him, mouth full of blood, teeth all red. “Then we got kicked out. Buuut I was promised a free drink, for saving the day.”

“Well look at ya.” He pulled you in closer and peck your forehead. “Got myself a knight in shining armor now?”

You laughed and detached from him to walk over to the sink and spit the blood that had accumulated in your mouth. You grabbed a glass and rinsed your mouth to get rid of that metallic aftertaste. The cowboy approached again and grabbed a tissue to remove the blood that still hadn't dried of your chin.

“They got you good, huh?” You grunted. “You gonna be alright?” He continued softer, concerned.

“Yeah, I will. I’ve had worse.”

“I know.” He breathed. “Just checkin’. You tell me if anything comes up, eh? Bring you to a doctor or somethin’.”

You smiled at him, and pecked his cheek, hoping the sweet gesture would convey your gratitude. Nothing much he could do either way, it’s a matter of waiting for the bleeding to stop. Just the fact that he cared made your chest warm. It already felt much better anyway. He peered at you from under his hat and chuckled.

“You look ridiculous with that cotton ball up your nose.”

“You love me though.” You replied smugly, daring him to oppose you.

“Yeah, I do. But know what I love more?” He paused and you playfully shook your head. “You not complainin’ about the blood stains on your shirt, lemme clean it for you.”

You scoffed and pulled you bloodied shirt over your head, handing it to him, an eyebrow raised and a smirk. He gave you a wink and headed to the bathroom, while you finished cleaning out the blood on your neck and face with a wet towel. Once done, you looked over to what he left on the counter when you came in. Where those…? Was he cooking your favorite meal? Oh Boothill…

Ratio

When you arrived back home, a bit out of breath, you found Veritas where you left him earlier. On the sofa, a few papers in hand. He was tapping his pen against his lower lips rhythmically, eyes trained on the words hastily written by one of his student.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He asked nonchalantly.

“I- uh. Yeah, yeah I got it.”

Hearing your small, dazed voice made him detach his eyes from the paper he was reading and as soon as he set eyes on you, he shot up. You had blood running from your hair to over your brow bone and left eye, and your futile attempt to stop the bleeding with either your hands or your jacket just made a bloody mess of everything. Who knew head injuries bled so much? The paper in his hand long forgotten on the sofa, the doctor took long strides toward you.

“What happened?” He asked, concern evident on his face. He helped you toward the bathroom and sat you on the toilet while he got the first aid kit out.

“I decided to take a detour, I wanted to walk a bit longer.” You explained, slowly, still feeling a bit lightheaded from the Adrenaline finally subsiding. “There was a guy on the way and I don’t know. I must have looked at him funny because he approached me and tried to grab me?” You explained still confused at what exactly happened. “So, I pushed him away and he- He bashed my head into a wall.”

Veritas stopped his movement as he was putting on gloves after having sanitized his hands. He looked at you bewildered. How dare he? He hurriedly parted your hair to look for the main wound just on the crown of your head above your forehead. You almost leaned into the touch, sighing. When he found what he was looking for, he applied antiseptic, cleaning out any clots and debris around the wounds before covering it with a fresh piece of gauze and bandages. It didn’t even sting.

“I punched him back so hard he fell on his ass, and I kind of panicked and ran here. I couldn’t even see from my left eye because of the blood.” You laughed tiredly.

However, Veritas did not find this very funny.

“Head injuries can be extremely serious and traumatic. Maybe you should be more concerned about this!” He scolded lightly; his brows still furrowed in evident worry. “They can cause degeneration of brain cells, internal bleeding or even torn tissues.” He removed his gloves and threw them in the trash, now wetting a towel with warm water. “We should take you to a clinic after this. Check for anything more serious.”

“Aw, you care.” You mumbled, still in a daze a soft smile on your lips.

He light blush rose high on his cheekbones, and he started swabbing at your face to remove the drying blood from your skin, gentle as ever.

“Of course I care, you are my partner. This is serious, you know!”

“I know,” you drawled, your hand reach to wrap around his wrist. “But in what better hands could I be?” You nuzzled into his hand. “I got the famous Dr. Ratio as my personal nurse, I got nothing to worry about.”

He huffed and continued his task diligently, now a small pout on his lips, sporting his blush still. You were adorable sure but also such a menace. This was not the time to joke like that! But he couldn’t help fighting against a small smile. Oh how smitten he was.

© platypusundercover - 2024 || Request rules

[mochatsin]

When MC is a Writer

You’ve written several books back in the human realm, some posted online while others were published. You have some works unfinished but since you were taken to Devildom, you had to put them on hold. Eventually the brothers find out about your hobby.

Hi I had this idea while I was reading light novels. Certain brothers would have certain themes in whatever is being written to fit them, but feel free to imagine what kind of story your MC would write. Thanks for reading!

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Lucifer

Lucifer was out on a stroll on RAD when he spotted you with Simeon having lunch together, looking deep in discussion. He does notice that you both have been spending a lot of time together and a part of him is curious as to why that is. You’re either talking with Simeon during lunch breaks or meeting up with him after school. He’s not jealous, Lucifer is more intrigued as to what must be so important that you come home late after your visits with the angel. 

You were both in his study when he finally asked you about it. You were late for dinner yesterday after coming home late from purgatory hall, Lucifer wouldn’t want you to start ditching your duties if it’s your turn to make dinner for the week. You explain to him that you’re not trying to avoid your chores at all, there’s just something that you needed Simeon’s help with. Now what could possibly Simeon do that Lucifer couldn’t? He probes a bit more until you spill the truth. 

You tell Lucifer that you and Simeon are meeting up together because you’re trying to tie the loopholes in this story that you were writing, and Simeon has given you great advice as a fellow writer. Now Lucifer is intrigued, enough to the point he put down his fountain pen and paused in his work. That can wait until tomorrow, he wants to hear all about your writing. He won’t pressure you into talking if you don’t want to tell him yet, but he promises not to make fun of whatever you make. 

You both enjoy a glass of demonus while you tell Lucifer the premise of your story, giving him enough background and detail for him to understand the part that you’re having trouble writing. Surprisingly, Lucifer is also quite a big help as he asks you thought provoking questions and offers suggestions that you can try to implement into your works. Given that he’s read several pieces of literature for the years he’s been alive, he has a lot of insight on what you can do to pace your story better. 

There’s a small smile on his face as he notices how your eyes shine every time you figure out a way for you to write the next parts, and he sits there in his spot sipping on his drink while you talk about what you can do for future updates. It’s impressive just listening to you untangle such an intricate story as if you’re just placing pieces of a puzzle together. To him, your mind is beautiful. 

Some time later, you found Lucifer by the living room with your book in his hand. He said that even though you explained the story, he still wanted to see how it really goes and appreciate your work. You asked if there’s anything you can do to thank him the other day for helping you, and all Lucifer asked  is that he’s the first to know once you update.

Mammon

Mammon is lounging in your room while he’s checking his stocks and latest lottery results (he lost) when you start asking him questions about gambling. He interpreted this as you finally having an interest in his gambling habits so he began talking about the mechanics. Roulette tables, machines, you name it and he’ll explain it with great detail. It would make the brothers wonder why Mammon can’t even remember to do all his chores when he can recall all of these with ease. 

You also ask about how people normally scheme and cheat in casinos. At first he thought you were accusing him even though he often does that in game nights at the House of Lamentation (Levi caught him), but then he realizes it’s just pure curiosity so he explains how he’s heard some people pull it off. It’s a high risk kind of stunt and since he doesn’t want to be banned from the casino then he doesn’t resort to those methods. 

Mammon then starts questioning why you’re asking these. It’s not like you were going to gamble right? He silently hoped you weren’t in debt to the point you’re resorting to gambling but no that’s not the case. You tell him that you’re trying to write a scene and it takes place in a casino, and since Mammon spends a lot of his time in those places then his experience makes him the best person to ask. He was definitely turning red at that last part. 

Mammon goes back to his room and since you talked about your writing, he searches for it online to check out your works. He didn’t know you were such a big shot in the reading community so he wants to see what your stuff was about. It started as reading the summary, to reading the introduction, and now he’s updated. They were all right, you’re good. 

Mammon starts reading more often, though it’s mostly limited to the things you’ve written before. Satan has been trying to get him to read his personal recommendations but if it’s something written by you then he’s not hesitating to pick it up. Lucifer is personally thanking you for giving Mammon something that helped temporarily forget his gambling habits and dumb schemes.

If you have any more questions about gambling or anything, Mammon is always happy to tell you everything he knows. Heck, he even offered to bring you over to the casino to let you have some personal experience of whatever that is you’re writing but the brothers warned you against that idea if you want to come back home with Grimm still in your pockets.

Levi

Lately Levi has been reading a lot of Light Novels. Usually he’d be updating himself with manga he’s read to check for any new updates but he decided to pick on light novels that one of his favorite manga’s are based on. He claims that despite the manga and anime adaptations, there’s still a whole world of lore that there’s yet to discover so he wants to pick up on those, and he eventually came to appreciate these sorts of books. 

He was going through some recommendations and read through some of them, but one series definitely caught his attention and he spent an entire night trying to catch up to the latest update. He went to the breakfast table with heavy bags in his eyes and a big pout on his face so you ask him what’s wrong. 

He tells you that he found an interesting book series that has all his favorite tropes, but the author went on a sudden hiatus so there weren't any new updates as of recently. Biggest problem is that the chapter was left on a cliffhanger. You let him ramble on with the story until you realized that was one of your works. You were debating if you should admit it or not but maybe it’s best you do. 

You explained that you were actually the author and the work was on pause because of the exchange program. You wrote it in the human realm but because you were taken to Devildom, you couldn’t find the time to continue writing. Levi wasn’t sure if he should believe you were actually the author because no way can this happen to him twice, first it was TSL now it’s this one. 

He asked you several questions about the series like another TSL trivia quiz. His question went from easy basic knowledge to something oddly specific, but since you wrote it then you answered everything perfectly. Levi has that sparkle in his eyes that he usually has when he looks at his idols, except this time it’s with you. 

Levi refuses to hear any major spoiler from you so that his reactions are genuine by the time you update. You’re instantly one of his favorite writers and he won't hesitate to hype up your work on any forum platform. He can talk about how much he loves your writing to the point that you’re motivated to go back to finishing the next chapters. Maybe you could let Levi take a peek to be the first person to read once you’re done.

Satan

It’s always a nice leisure time to just sit in a room with Satan, both of you doing your own thing while discussing books you’ve both read recently. Often though you both do that in his room but since his recent rampage left everything a bigger mess than it already was to begin with, your book discussions were held in your room for the time being until his place gets cleaned up. Barbatos is not going to be happy about it.

You can see how he’s dying to discuss the latest book he’s read so the moment you say he can go first, he’s talking almost to a Levi level kind of excitement. Satan tells you how he recently found a series he’s invested in. The story and pacing are so good that he was hooked on it immediately, recalling all his favorite lines and scenes from it. He talks about the work in high regards and how he hopes the author comes back soon with some updates. 

You don’t know if you should be surprised that Satan has already come across your works considering that most of his days are dedicated to reading. You haven’t told him about this part of your life since he’s read so many good books, you fear it may not be up to match with other great writers so you kept it a secret from him. It's nice to see that Satan is praising your works, unaware that you were the author.  

You left your laptop on one day and Satan didn’t intend to look but accidentally did. He thought it was a homework essay for one of your classes, but he was surprised to see your drafts of the next chapters. Satan wanted to assume you were those fanfic writers that Levi has been talking about, but he does see that it was all aligned to the latest update. Realizing how much  he just talked about your work in front of you made him red from embarrassment, but he’s proud more than anything else. 

He comes clean that he knows your secret while apologizing for taking a peek, but he’s quite ecstatic to be associated with someone as talented as you are. It’s one thing to be a fan of books, it’s another to be writing a good one. If you need a beta reader, he’s always ready to lend his services. He’s a quick reader and he can lend useful advice or proper criticisms. At least he can be useful to you and it’s a bonus to be the first out of everyone to read about it.

Other than being a huge bookworm, Satan is the most knowledgeable among the brothers so if you’re struggling with writing something you don’t know too much about then he’ll help fill in the gaps of your knowledge. If it’s something he’s not familiar with then expect to wake up the next day finding out that Satan spent the night researching it for you so he could answer any question you have. He’d love to help you out in whatever way he can. 

Asmo

Asmo has been whining to the house of purgatory for any ideas because he needs to make some new content for his account because he wants to keep his followers entertained. He’s always doing makeup and skin care reviews because it’s what he does best (and also because he’s sponsored to do so), so Asmo is thinking of what’s something new he can do this time. It’s good to do something new from time to time to shock his fanbase.

Simeon suggests that Asmo should go read a book. At first the demon thought he was being condescending, but given that it’s a suggestion from Simeon then it’s definitely a genuine one. Asmo wanted to turn down the idea, though Simeon adds that he should read books up his alley. Perhaps a romance book should suit his tastes? They’re not too complicated to read and can be entertaining if written well. Being an Avatar of Lust, romance does sound intriguing and Simeon has the perfect book to recommend.

Asmo shocks everyone at the House of Lamentation when he comes home reading a book. It has a pretty cover and talks a tale of lovers, plus it was easy for him to digest since the book isn’t as thick and heavy like the ones that Satan normally likes to read. He seems overjoyed by the book that Simeon suggested to him and it must take a lot for a story to captivate Asmo that he almost forgets his nightly skin care routine.

He’s laying on your lap, swinging his feet with glee as he talks to you about this book he’s been fussing over. The story progressed so nicely between the two lovebirds, and each obstacle is so entertaining that Asmo can’t help but go through the next pages to see what happened. Does it strain the relationship? Do they break up? How will it go from here on then? It’s all too good! One of the best romance books he’s read so far. 

The more he talked about the twists and the plot, the more you realized that he was talking about your book that you published before you even got to Devildom. You ask Asmo how he got his hands on that book since it’s from the human realm, and he tells you that Simeon suggested it. You sighed, of course it was Simeon. He was the only one who knew you wrote books because you told him, though you didn’t expect that he’d suggest it to Asmo of all people.

Eventually you come clean to Asmo that you were the author, and it took a bit of explaining until he would believe you. You showed him your old drafts of when you worked, maybe some pictures of that time when you were storyboarding the book so you could convince him. He’s shocked to see this precious human has quite the talent of writing romance novels, he almost believed that your works were written by cupid himself! His new promotional video is him raving about your books, talking about how his heart skipped a beat and whatnot. The sales spiked that day.

Beel

Beel came home from practice one afternoon and due to the intensive workout, he’s definitely starving for something. He bought some Black Puddle Jelly from Madam Scream’s before he went home because he thought about sharing them with you. Food always tastes better when it’s with you. He would’ve brought Belphie with him, though his twin is still in detention for pulling a prank on Lucifer during class earlier.

He looks for you but before he goes to your room, he spots you by the kitchen instead trying to cook up something. As far as Beel knows, it’s Levi who would be on dinner duties for tonight so he’s wondering what you’re doing in there. The aroma of what you were making is what drew Beel to you, and he asks what you were up to when you spot him behind you, mouth already watering. 

You tell Beel that you’re trying to cook some recipe you found online while making use of the ingredients here in Devildom. It’s the first time you went out to buy every ingredient on your own to experiment, and Beel immediately points out to you which ones would probably be safe to eat and what would be dangerous to add in the dish because some ingredients won’t react well with each other. Even though Beel can most likely eat anything, he wouldn’t want you to accidentally poison yourself. 

Beel watches you type down some notes on your phone and asks if that was for the recipe, though you tell him that you’re writing details. You’re attempting to cook with foreign ingredients because you’re trying to immerse yourself with a character you’re writing in your story. A character that’s trying to discover some new recipes with things they’ve never seen before.

You’re thankful for Beel’s advice about the ingredients earlier, it helped you gain some more insight and inspiration on what to do for the next chapters. You’re already imagining the culinary endeavors your character will go through while you’re chopping the mandrakes you got. The demon is happy to help and all Beel asks is that you feed him whatever you’re making when you’re done, since he likes your cooking after all. He sits by the island counter, chewing on the Black Puddle Pudding while he listens to you discuss your book with him. 

Beel eventually walks up to you one day and admits that he tried to read your works. Your culinary adventure storyline is fantastic, but when it starts to describe all the delicious food that the character makes, Beel’s hunger starts to spike that he almost ate the page. There’s just something about the way you discuss the food that makes it sound so appetizing to him, he almost wants to recreate it with you. When you offer to read it with him while he eats some snacks, he has this happy smile on his face as he nods. 

Belphie

Belphie just got back from RAD, stretching his limbs a bit and yawning as he opens the door. He just came back from detention for pulling pranks, and all he wants to do is to just fall asleep right now. He wanted to invite Beel for a nap but his twin is still in practice so he’s not available. You were the next person he had in mind, so he went out searching for you around the house.

He finds you by the planetarium, and he was ready to invite you to sleep but he sees that your focus has been going back and forth between your notes and the stars in the sky. Since Devildom always has an endless night time, you’re able to study the constellations as freely as you want. There’s no need for you to wait for the sun to set like you had to back in the human realm. There are books about Devildom stars scattered around you, ones you’ve borrowed from the library or from Satan’s collection so you can study them better.

He sits down next to you, resting his head over your shoulder and asking if you’re trying to memorize the constellations. You explain that you’re trying to get inspiration and notes for something you’re writing, a short fairy tale that’s dedicated to the stars this time. You’ve written fairy tales before you got here, and you want to make something inspired from Devildom stars. The constellations they have here are way different from what you normally see in the human realm, so you’re sure that the stories behind them are different as well. 

A fairy tale about stars? Written by one of the people he cares about the most? Belphie is definitely interested in hearing more about it. He doesn’t try to tease you or anything about the fact you’re writing stories, he’s even willing to offer to help you by telling you everything he knows about the stars and the stories behind each constellation that he can remember at the top of his head in hopes that may spark more inspirations. Satan may know a lot of things, but Belphie is passionate about stars and you can feel it from the way he talks. 

Belphie is incredibly drowsy the next day since he spent the night talking about your writing and helping you with it. He can’t help it when it’s about stars, and Belphie loves the way your eyes light up whenever you get an idea that you can put in. To him, it almost shines like the stars you’re writing about. He may have a vague idea of your story based on yesterday’s conversation, but he’s excited to read the final outcome. He’s seen glimpses of your works when you showed him your notes, it would definitely be worth the wait.

You invited him back to the planetarium because you want to show him your draft underneath all the stars. Even when he’s tired, he shows up and lays next to you to rest with all these pillows. The only favor he asked was that you read the fairytale for him while he rests, he promises he’ll try not to fall asleep. You read the story to him, occasionally checking if he’s still awake or not. Whenever you stopped, he would squeeze your hand and despite having his eyes closed, he would tell you to continue with such a groggy voice. He manages to at least hear the rest of it before falling asleep with a smile on his face.

[violet-fluff]

Levi x Pregnant! Reader AU

An Unexpected Gift (pt.1)

Part two

Masterlist

You stared at the endless amount of medical posters plastered on the walls.

One provided a hotline for mental crisis.

One demonstrated a diagram of a human’s nervous system.

And another was reminding everyone to get their flu shot for the upcoming season.

You weren’t here for any of that. You were here because…cancer.

At least that’s what Google determined your sudden nausea was, because…why wouldn’t Google continuously tell people they have cancer?

“Miss L/N?” A nurse’s sweet voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

The nurse escorts you to the back where she has you step on a scale to get your weight.

You’ve lost three pounds.

Yup. Cancer. Definitely cancer.

After taking other precautions like your height, blood pressure and temperature, the nurse leaves you in a room to wait for the doctor.

The crinkling of the bed’s paper cover annoys you as it crinkles every time you move.

You sit up straight as you hear a knock on the door and your doctor walks in.

“Miss L/N. Nice to see you again.”

“Dr. Reed,” You sigh, “I have cancer don’t I?”

Dr. Reed chuckles as he sits in his chair, reading over his clipboard. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop reading Google?”

“Every time…”

He looks over the rim of his glasses and smiles as he clicks his pen closed. “Well fortunately for you, Miss L/N, you don’t have cancer. Your blood tests and urine samples came back showing that you’re pregnant.”

Time stood still. You feel all the color wash from your face as you feel light headed. “P-pregnant?”

“Mhmm,” Dr. Reed hums and crosses his arms. “It explains your sudden nausea, weight loss and fatigue. I’m shocked Google told you cancer and not pregnancy. Although, your iron levels are low so I’m going to prescribe you iron pills as well as prenatals.”

You cover your eyes as you laugh in disbelief. “I didn’t figure I was pregnant because my husband is snipped. He’s not supposed to be able to get me pregnant!”

Dr. Reed hums in thought. “I see. Well unfortunately in some rare instances, vasectomies can fail. I would advise your husband to go to his doctor to get that looked at. You both decided to not have children or he already had the vasectomy before he married you?”

You sigh. “We both decided to not have children.”

“Alright,” Dr. Reed uses his professionalism to analyze the situation, “How do you feel about this? The pregnancy I mean.”

“Shocked. In disbelief.” You twiddle your thumbs anxiously. “I mean, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I have an important question to ask. This may be one you want to speak with your husband about first, only if you’re comfortable with that. Do you want to terminate the pregnancy or keep it?” The doctor asks sternly, but softly.

You try to think of an answer, but so much is going on in your head that you can’t come up with one on the spot. “Um, I have to think about this first. I would also like to let my husband know. It would be wrong of me not to tell him.”

Dr. Reed nods and helps you up. “Alright. If you want to keep the pregnancy or terminate it, I want you to call the office right away after you make the decision so I can know what direction to take you.”

Tears fill your eyes as you nod. “Thanks, Dr. Reed.”

He smiles and helps you back out to the office.

Once you get home, Levi is waiting for you on the couch. Your eyes widen.

“You’re home early?”

Levi nods as he watches the TV. “Yeah. The building is getting electrical maintenance so Erwin sent us all home.”

“Ok.” You quickly walk to the bathroom and sit on the floor for a few minutes, trying to figure out how you will tell Levi.

You jump when there’s a knock on the door. “You alright? Did you have to take a shit?”

With a small laugh, you took a deep breath and decided it was now or never.

You walk out of the bathroom and come face to face with Levi. He raises a brow as you grab his arm and sit you both on the edge of your bed.

“I went to the doctors today….”

Levi groaned. “Shit. You’re dying aren’t you?”

You give a small smile. “I thought I was. But…I’m pregnant…”

Levi’s eyes widen and he jumps up. “What?! How?!”

“The doctor said sometimes a vasectomy can fail and-“

“No no no!” Levi cuts you off as he starts pacing back and forth. “Not mine. My wouldn’t fail. I went to the best doctor in the city.”

At a loss for words, all you can do is start tearing up and stuttering. “W-well, that’s what my doctor said. He confirmed-“

Levi stopped right in front of you and looked down towards you. “You cheated didn’t you?”

“What?! No!” You yell. “I literally told you what my doctor said. He said you should get rechecked by yours.”

Levi covers his face with his hands. “Do you want to keep it? Because remember we both decided we liked to be by ourselves and not have a little shit to deal with.”

A sense of motherly instinct washed over you on that last part and caused you to stand up in irritation. “I do want to keep it.”

That causes Levi to freeze in place and then suddenly throw his hands up in frustration. “Shit! I can’t deal with this right now!”

He storms out of the bedroom and you can hear the jingle of his car keys as he stomps out the front door, giving it a nice slam on his way out.

You are emotionless for a good minute before you start sobbing into your hands.

‘I guess I’m a single mom now.’

[pantheresssy]

yo if you do request you should do a reader thats similar to max from two broke girls and loser ellie how would they be tg and how reader would have a soft spot for only ellie

MAX!R AND LOSER!ELLIE — EW.

— ┊⋆ cw: r is a big boob girly and this have non graphic smut even but there’s something talking about it.

i’ve never watched two broke girls before so i was guided by tiktoks edits, hope you like it! it took me so long but i wrote this and deleted over and over, i’m sorry for any mistake and for this b so short …

loser!ellie who would fall to her knees after seeing you walking around dressed on the most horrendous mustard yellow dress with hints of red, not moving an inch to try and treat costumers more gently — differently of your best friend, dina –, including her.

loser!ellie who would do anything to have your eyes on her, but not really knowing how to do it. she would try to flirt when you stepped on her table, notebook on hand and beating the pen on it in the rhythm of the song your mind couldn’t stop singing, but it would come out so fucking bad, so she would just sit and stare like “um … hi,”

loser!ellie who would notice your enormous boobs pushing out of the neckline and would salivate for them, but always looking away afraid of you noticing it. she would dream about them at night, day, noon, while you were just two feet’s away from her. them and you were all she could think about for ages.

loser!ellie who would give up on you after trying three times, putting on her mind that you would never look at her. nobody but losers like her ever did and she knew that this wouldn’t change. you were the hot girl she would just want from afar.

loser!ellie who had a admirer since day one, who just waited to the point she would combust on her place to do something. you were looking at her more discreetly while taking the customer’s orders, acknowledging each time sho would look at you with puppy eyes, wanting. she was beautiful and dina side eying you because of your unusual attitude had made everything more exciting.

loser!ellie who would make you like her so easily just by the way she seemed to be so messed up. at your eyes it could be a great match: the hot girl with the loser. so you used everything she couldn’t keep her eyes off to play a little, flirting — but she was slower than you thought, never understanding what you were saying.

loser!ellie who would make you go softer only for her, even if she doesn’t seemed to notice it. while you talked to others as if you were bored, always sarcastic, with her it was a hole different story, with “good morning”s, “i’m gonna be your waitress today”s and “don’t be pressured, i’ll wait”s. you’re being so fucking soft for her and hated it, but couldn’t change it.

loser!ellie who couldn’t see things that were in front of her eyes, only giving the time of the day to everything her mind told her, believing it was the only true. and while you were investing so much on playing a little, ellie wasn’t getting none of it … after a while, you decided to do what you did best and see what she would do: you were going to be direct.

loser!ellie who almost threw up when, one day, you came up to her table and while noting what she wanted, said: “instead of looking at my boobs you should just ask to grab ‘em.” you looked at her and placed the notebook in your pocket. “i’ll say yes.”

loser!ellie who would still be gagging and not knowing how to react each time you were closer — because you were closer after that day, and for the first time she was starting to realise something.

loser!ellie who when she was going to say her order, saw you biting your lip while looking at her hand and tattoo, you being the one salivating over her now. and after you saw that she knew what you were doing, blinked and smiled, pretending to accidentally pull the neckline down, the suggestion of your halo appearing.

loser!ellie who after this got more confident and finally had the courage to ask what she wanted, in which you were more than happy to give her. ellie took you to eat in a decent place and was nervous during all of it – with you thinking that it was kind of captivating. in the end, she was with you on her lap, her face buried between your boobs while you rode her thigh.

loser!ellie who learned how to eat someone out wonderfully well and was taking all of your attention, knowing that she was the only one to have your big, soft boobs on her mouth and face. (having your nipple on her pussy as well).

loser!ellie who was the first to have you so gently, and the only one to make you handle better your shitty work after a great fuck.

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 3

Third chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto series. Nikto has some emotions and has no idea what they mean or how to deal with them. Original Cowboy concept based on the AU by @ghouljams

A/N: Finally got enough time to work on this chapter after weeks and weeks of hectic stress with work and university. Thank you to all of those still following along with the story, I'll hopefully have the next part out soon. Fun fact: The story of a horse getting hurt running into a fence because they were so excited to see someone is from one of the silly yearlings at uni lol.

Warnings: Minor medical proceedures, Nikto getting a little jealous.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

First | Previous | Next

Nikto can’t help wondering if there’s anything that can ruin your seemingly perpetual good mood. Even with your body dripping with sweat and elbow deep inside of a cow, you’re still somehow grinning brightly at the farmer standing beside you. Doing a part of your job that some would consider... unpleasant at best, you’re able to act as if it’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done.  

One of the other farm hands, a man about your age, if a year or two older, is acting a little too interested in what you’re doing, however, and Nikto’s jaw is aching with how hard he’s grinding his teeth together. They make a soft groaning sound as they suffer under the pressure he’s subjecting them to, but unfortunately, it’s the only thing keeping him from snapping at “Darren” when the man crowds close to you with what he must think is a suave grin.  

“Alright, I can feel the cervix now,” you hum, and he can see the way your arm twists slightly within the animal, “it’s pretty easy to manoeuvre it around.” You frown to yourself, seemingly oblivious to the way that annoying brat leans a little closer, “the reproductive tract isn’t very heavy.” 

“And what’s that mean, darlin’?” Darren asks, and Nikto can’t decide what he hates more, the tone the other man is using to address you, or the way he thinks it’s okay to place a hand on your shoulder. The gelding underneath Nikto snorts, shifting uncertainly as he likely senses the tension brewing.  

“Oh,” you blink at Darren, as if only just noticing him for the first time, “normally you wouldn’t be able to move the cervix around so easily if she was carrying a calf, I’d be able to feel at least a little weight to it.” You reach a little further into the cow, taking a few moments longer before adding, “I can also feel the horns of her uterus, and there’s no fluid I can feel inside them.”  

Darren is nodding, but his gaze is far from focused on the animal or what you’re actually saying to him.  

You pull you hand slowly from the cow, removing the palpation glove and dropping it into the bin beside the cattle crush. “Looks like this girl’s open, I’m afraid,” you say, grabbing the can of cattle paint and spraying a bright green streak across the animal’s tail, “and that’s the last of the girls done.”  

Pulling the release lever, the heifer is let out of the crush and into the holding pen with the rest of the females you’ve checked for pregnancies. While most of them have little blue marks to indicate a successful insemination, a few of the younger ones weren’t lucky enough to take this time around.  

Darren looks as though he’s about to say something further (more than likely something stupid and obnoxious), but before he can do anything more than puff up his chest, Mr. Roberts is snapping at him.  

“Darren! Get your ass into the paddock, boy!” The old man has a scowl on his face that would have recruits shaking in their boots and a voice with a harsh snarl to it from years of smoking. “The hell do I bother paying you for?” he grumbles, watching as the younger man near enough trips over himself in his haste to get back to work.  

Nikto can’t help admiring the man for his no nonsense approach to his work. He’s friendly enough toward those who work for him, and when Nikto was looking for employment, took him on board with no questions asked. The elderly cowboy has made it clear that he could care less about where someone comes from, only that they can do an honest day’s hard work.  

“Well, thank you for giving us a hand with the ladies,” the old man’s tone softens drastically, and he offers you a firm handshake, “I know those big business farms have all that fancy new technology and blood tests to make checking for calves easier, but I much prefer the old method.”  

Although he would never admit it aloud, it’s rather… sweet, the way you beam at Mr. Roberts and nod along to his words. “Of course! A blood test would be useful for determining how long the baby’s been gestating for, but there’s nothing wrong with the palpation method to find out if they’re carrying anything.” 

Roberts seems pleased by your response, offering you an elusive smile, before giving you one final nod, “I’ll see you around town in a few days, and I’ll drop your payment off at the clinic.”  

There are a few final pleasantries exchanged, all of which Nikto ignores. He was supposed to be getting the horse tacked down and set out for the day. Getting distracted by you while doing your job was just an unfortunate happenstance. He urges the gelding onward with a gentle tap to the animal’s side, leaving you to the business of packing up all of your tools in peace.  

He dismounts once reaching the stable, giving the horse a firm pat on the shoulder before leading him into one of the nearest stalls. He can’t know for certain if anyone else will need Murphy before the end of the day, seeing as the horse belongs to Roberts, but the least he can do is ensure he’s comfortable until he’s turned out for the end of the day.  

While “Murphy” isn’t exactly a name that Nikto would have chosen for a horse, given it’s a little too human for his own tastes, apparently, the gelding was named after Murphy’s Law, seeing as the poor animal seems to constantly be getting into trouble. Anything that could possibly go wrong for him can and will. He’s only just recovered from a nasty gash he’d received to the front of his chest after getting a little too excited to see Nikto coming to greet him and crashing directly into a barbed wire fence.  

Nikto starts untacking Murphy, starting with the bridle and moving his way backwards. He gives the gelding a quick brushing down and picks out his hooves to ensure there’s no stones or injuries that’ve gone unnoticed. He leaves Murphy to his dinner while he works on cleaning off the bit of the bridle and applying oil where the leather has begun to dry out. It’s a difficult job with only one properly functioning arm, but he’s not about to ask for any assistance with such a mundane chore.  

When he gets back, however, he’s startled to find you standing there, stroking Murphy’s mane while the horse happily munches on a mouthful of hay. You’re cooing at the animal happily, giggling when Murphy starts trying to nibble at your shirt once running out of food.  

You turn and offer him a smile, face still a little warm from the sun outside and with several strands of your hair poking out in odd directions. He finds that the look suits you, oddly enough.  

It’s only when you call his name that he realises that you’ve been trying to speak to him and he’s just been there staring at your face like a complete idiot. He shifts his grip on the halter he’s holding and clears his throat. “What do you need?” He settles on eventually, deciding that’s the least offensive way of telling you he hasn’t heard a word spoken to him.  

Thankfully, you don’t seem to be too upset by it. “I was just asking how poor Murphy is doing, I know he had a nasty scratch recently,” you’re looking at Nikto, but your words are said in the same, high-pitched coo you tend to use whenever you’re talking to Sputnik, accompanied by a rather overdramatic frown.  

He rolls his eyes at you, but finds he isn’t entirely annoyed by the antics. “Fine. His wound has healed well,” he says while reaching over to try and guide Murphy’s head a little closer. He may not be a trained veterinarian, but Nikto has seen plenty enough injuries in his life to be able to tell when one isn’t healing well. Murphy, of course, decides not to cooperate, instead trying to press the side of his fluffy face up against you.  

Getting the halter over the horse’s head with one hand is rather awkward, especially with the way the animal insists on moving about. You reach out, and he’s about to snap at you for trying to do it for him. He’s had enough of people trying to treat him like an infant recently, as though he’s not a dangerous killer.  It was suffocating enough when it was hospital staff and physiotherapists, but even a civilian thinking he’s too incapable to perform such a simple task? 

But then, you simply grab the buckle in one hand and hold it in position for him to secure himself.  

It would be far faster and more efficient for you to take the halter and do it yourself, yet you stand patiently without comment, and wait as he pulls the strap over the horse’s head and fastens the catch in place. He’s not sure why the thought of you specifically treating him like a weak child had him prepared to lash out quite so aggressively, especially when he’s brushed off similar actions by other people with only a few choice words and a particularly icy glare.  

You return to eagerly cooing at the horse before he can force himself to offer any kind of thanks, and he quickly pushes down the uncomfortable tangle of emotions trying to crawl their way up from his stomach.  

“Are you finished for the day?” You ask after a few moments of silence. He gives you a nod and you’re quick to ask, “how’s your girl been holding up?”  

“Our girl?” he asks slowly, forehead scrunching up. Do you think he has a partner or some kind? Why would you think there’s a girl in his life? Has he done something to make you think he’s married or dating someone?  

“Sputnik,” you clarify, and his face must do something odd because you snort at his reaction. “Why, do you have another girl?” 

Nikto can’t help automatically scoffing at the question, shaking his head at the very thought, “нет, we have no one.” He sees your eyebrows raise slightly, as if surprised by that, but you quickly school your expression back into its normal, carefree smile.  

Your expression quickly turns into something playful, however, as you add, “really? A big, handsome man like you?” He’s not sure how genuine your teasing tone is, “surely you’ve got the ladies lining up.” You have this way of joking around with him and asking questions in a way that doesn’t make him want to immediately tell you to ‘fuck off’. It’s a strange feeling, and he’s not entirely sure he likes it.  

“You are just crazy,” he counters, going to cross his arms over his chest, only to realise he can’t and instead settling for just letting them rest in place. He sees your eyes travel down the length of his damaged arm, stopping at where it abruptly ends. You don't comment on it, however, and he’s annoyed by how glad he is that you don’t. You likely didn’t even notice his injury until now, given he’s been wearing his prosthetic covered by long-sleeved clothes and gloves every other time you’ve met.  

“Wow, so rude,” you grin, trying to playfully shove his shoulder, only to pout when he’s entirely unmoved by the action. He’s been called rude many times in his life, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself pleased to hear it from someone.  

The sound of the stable door opening has you pulling your attention away from him and toward Roberts, who has just entered. You give Murphy a quick pet to the side of the neck, and Nikto a final grin, offering up a brief, “I’ll see you around.” 

Roberts waves as you leave the stables, waiting for the large door to close before he turns to look at Nikto, one of his bushy eyebrows raised. “So, when’re you gonna marry that lovely girl?” The old man asks, leaning against the stall door with an upward twitch of his lips.  

Nikto near enough chokes on thin air, whirling around on the cowboy with a startled, “что?”  

The old man just sighs heavily, shaking his head, “just make sure you do it soon, yeah? We need another vet living out here on a permanent basis,” he ploughs on, “she already knows the area and she’s a lovely young lady.”  

As quickly as he arrived, Roberts wanders off again, heading back to work and leaving Nikto standing in the middle of the horse stall. He takes a long moment, just staring at where the old man had been a few moments ago while his brain slowly processes everything. Surely he wasn’t being serious, right?

-

Translations

“да,” - “Yes” 

"что?” - "What?"

[jsluvtzu]

strawberry kisses (pt. 1)

park jihyo x fem!reader

summary: sweet reminders of who you belong to

cw: smut!!! men dni, cheating-ish?, jihyo’s realll jealous and realllll possessive, choking, marking

wc: 2.9k

a/n: i got this idea while listening to mina’s bridge in first time 😭 everybody say thank you jihyo for putting that pen to work!

the lively restaurant was filled with laughter and half-sober words all around you.

your girlfriend brought you along with her to a dinner with her biker friends: nayeon, momo, and sana.

jihyo had always been a motorcycle enthusiast — she and her friends would constantly go on late night rides together at times that no normal person would be awake.

but recently, things at work had been so hectic that her bike was instead left to collect dust in your garage.

hectic enough to the point where you two hadn’t fucked in three weeks.

any time you wanted to initiate anything intimate with her it was always “i’m too tired”, or, “maybe tomorrow”.

obviously, this meant you were beyond horny.

you were desperate for any form of relief — even just a simple thigh ride while jihyo typed away on her laptop would have sufficed.

but, meeting after meeting, file after file, the work was never ending for jihyo.

your girlfriend’s career had officially stolen her away from you.

until you decided to drag her up from the deep ocean of stress she was drowning in that night.

—

“come onnn, y/n! stop being so lame, ‘js take the damn shot,” nayeon slurred, hoping to encourage you to be on the same level of drunk as her.

“one more shot won’t hurt you, y/n..” sana’s sweet voice joined nayeon’s drunken one in peer pressuring you.

you sighed out dramatically and scoffed at the way you were so easily influenced around them, “alrightt, alright. i’ll do it.”

cheers erupted from the both of them who excitedly poured peach soju in your empty shot glass, spilling a quarter of the bottle in the process.

as you downed your now fourth shot of alcohol, you glanced to your right to see jihyo and momo engaged in some business talk.

momo was like jihyo’s advisor, always giving her pointers and tips about how to manage her substandard employees.

even at a dinner party she can’t seem to get her mind off of work, you thought — slightly disappointed, but also worried.

you shook your head and brought yourself back to your distractions for the night, tipsily conversing with jihyo’s drunk friends about what it would feel like to wake up as a man one day.

while nayeon and sana were debating with each other, the screeching of a scooted back chair caught your attention, your girlfriend suddenly getting up and leaving out the door.

slightly confused, your eyes followed her out into the window in front of the restaurant, only to see her on a phone call with her hand pressed to her forehead.

another fucking work call. you were somewhat angry at this point, and — who keeps rubbing on your thigh?

“you’re soooo fuckin’ pretty, y/n.. ‘wouldn’t even know what to do with all this.” nayeon snuck her way unnecessarily closer to you while you were focused on fighting your girlfriend in your head.

her hand trailed up your exposed thigh from the short black skirt you wore, rubbing at your soft flesh as she mumbled intoxicated things in your ear.

you turned your head down a bit to see nayeon resting her head on your shoulder, nibbling at your bare skin.

“nayeon.. what are you-”

“ ‘s okay, pretty, ‘s ‘js me.” nayeon interrupted as she kissed her way up to your neck.

you shifted yourself away from her touch, uncomfortable at her advances.

momo and sana scolded nayeon from across the table, “stop it before jihyo sees. and you know what she would do to you.” momo was currently the soberest one at the table, attempting to knock some sense into her friend.

“mmm don’t be ridiculous, she’s too busy with her dumb company to pay attention to us..”

nayeon inhaled the sweet vanilla perfume that jihyo loved on you, “god you smell good. ‘could eat you up right here..” she whispered the last part lowly, almost seductively.

it was hard for you to control yourself as the shots you took earlier were getting to you, and it wasn’t exactly a lie that you’d always found nayeon attractive.

but nayeon was right. jihyo was too busy to pay attention, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to make her pay attention for once.

sana and momo were eventually too occupied flirting with each other to see the smile forming on your face when you had your plan in mind.

from the angle the table was at, your seat was in perfect view for jihyo to see nayeon all over you.

whoever jihyo was arguing with over the phone, they had her pacing the sidewalk and getting visibly frustrated, gesturing her hands in the air to emphasize her words with venom laced behind them.

she faced you through the glass pane at the perfect moment when nayeon tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned in for a kiss.

you made direct eye contact with jihyo as you felt nayeon kiss you on the corner of your mouth, letting her messily peck at your lip gloss coated lips.

the way your girlfriend’s furrowed brows relaxed and her soft eyes turned dark only encouraged you to infuriate her even more.

and from the way it sounded, jihyo swung the door open with enough force to break it clean off the hinges.

her footsteps were heavy and intentional.

you slightly winced when jihyo grabbed your arm and forcefully yanked you out of nayeon’s grip.

“mm- the ‘fuck? heyyy.. jiii..hyo..?.. shit.” nayeon said, squinting through her drowsy eyes to make out your girlfriend’s hovering figure. she almost fell completely forward when you were pulled away as she was reliant on your body there to hold her up.

“y/n has to use the bathroom.”

“no i don-“

before you could even finish your sentence, you were already halfway on your way to the ladies’ room.

you were sure that jihyo’s grip on your bicep was strong enough to leave bruises later. not that you were complaining anyways.

she picked the furthest stall at the end of the room to cram the two of you in, pushing you in first and slamming the lock shut behind her.

immediately, you felt how cold her hands were from being outside as she wrapped her fingers around your throat in a tight enough squeeze to give you a rush.

your backside made contact with the flimsy wall, making a loud bang as she pinned you between it and her.

her leg was slotted perfectly between yours and you couldn’t resist the urge to lightly grind your clothed core against her denim covered thigh.

“thought you could get away with your little act huh? ‘tryna make me fuckin’ jealous or somethin’?” the increasingly tight grasp on your neck made your vision go blurry, “greedy slut just needs to be put in her place doesn’t she?”

you attempted to answer her, but you could only give her a lousy groan in response.

jihyo was eyeing you up and down with nothing but pure lust in her eyes.

weeks of not being able to taste you, touch you, feel you — jihyo was just as sexually frustrated as you were.

there was a moment of tension when her hands loosened and she carefully watched as you caught your breath, lips parted and eyelids half-open.

you broke the moment soon enough as you crashed your lips onto hers, moaning into the now sloppily paced make out session.

whines escaped your lips when jihyo pressed her thigh closer to your aching core, making your jaw drop even wider.

she took that opportunity to force her tongue into your mouth, claiming her territory and exploring you fully.

you stabilized yourself with your hands at her shoulders, her muscles insanely defined even through the thick leather jacket she had on.

your girlfriend broke the kiss with your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling away with a pop sound.

it wasn’t long until her lips found their way back to your skin, attacking your jaw and neck.

when you felt her sucking at your soft flesh in a pulsing rhythm, you remembered that you were still very much in public.

“w-wait- jihyo.. we still mmph- have to go out there-”

she laughed against your skin, biting at a new spot on your throat and soothing it with her tongue — the chemical taste of your expensive perfume teasing her tastebuds.

“am i supposed to care? you had no problem eating nayeon’s face in front of everybody,” her hand trailing up to unbutton your cropped cardigan, “more specifically, in front of me.” your collarbones now exposed and tempting her, “it’s only fair baby.”

jihyo left deep red hickeys on damn near every empty patch of skin on your neck — half of your chest and collarbones littered with bite marks and bruises.

she kissed over her last mark on you for now and leaned back to admire her work.

to her, it was better than any other project she had ever worked on.

“that’s good enough, love. let’s go, i’m not done with you.”

jihyo opened the stall door and walked out, running her fingers through her curled hair and leaving you to fix yourself on your own.

seeing yourself in the mirror was definitely a sight.

your hair was disheveled, clothes were out of place, lips were swollen, and the marks. god, the fucking marks she left on you should not have made you feel the way you did.

you were just relieved that nobody came in for the past 10 minutes as you hooked the last button of your baby blue sweater through its hole.

walking back out into the dining hall felt incredibly embarrassing knowing what you currently looked like — you tried sweeping your hair over your neck to cover up as best as you could.

jihyo was already getting your things together to leave when you got back to the table, ignoring the fact that nayeon’s eyes couldn’t leave your flushed face.

sana laughed in disbelief, “you guys are fucking nasty.”

you avoided prolonged eye contact with all three of them while saying your goodbyes and followed behind your still angry girlfriend.

her bike was parked alongside the curb next to the rest of theirs, but a special pink heart that she let you paint on the small windshield distinguished it from anyone else’s.

the wind kept blowing your hair from its designated spot and revealed your pretty marks to the people that passed by.

jihyo saw you hugging yourself as she set her bike up, taking off her leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

mumbling out a low thank you, you slid your arms through the sleeves and threw your leg over the seat, sitting directly and comfortably behind your girlfriend.

“helmet.” jihyo passed you a matching helmet that you two got for your anniversary last year over her shoulder.

you slid your head into its snug shell and adjusted it as jihyo revved her bike a couple times to warm it up.

wrapping your arms around her waist, you placed your feet up on the footrests and turned your head to the side, leaning down to rest it against her back.

the ride home felt like minutes thanks to jihyo’s aggressive speeding and weaving through crowded lanes.

you clung onto her for dear life when she would make sharp turns around a tight corner and gas it, a clear sign that you were in for a long night.

when you finally made it home, jihyo flipped the kickstand out with her foot and pulled her helmet off, her dark hair flowing out all at once.

you did the same, placing your helmet on the left handlebar and following her through your garage door.

jihyo headed upstairs without even looking back at you — she knew you wouldn’t be far behind.

when you reached the open door of your shared bedroom, you saw your girlfriend already shuffling through her nightstand, pulling out a pink silk tie that she only used when she intended on fucking you absolutely stupid.

“clothes off. you know what to do.” her tone sending chills down your spine as you stood frozen in place.

“no.” you said firmly — your heart beating out of your ribcage.

a deep sigh filled the room as she snapped her head in your direction, “no?”

jihyo walked towards you slowly, like a predator stalking her prey — her muscles flexing on full display with the black tank top she had on.

your breathing was sharp and uncontrolled, your fists clenched to keep yourself together.

you flinched when she raised her hand, landing it gently on your cheek and caressing your smooth skin with her thumb.

“sweet thing..” she mumbled, “but you don’t get to be a brat tonight.”

her hand suddenly left your cheek and found itself grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing a yelp out of you as she dragged you over to your shared bed.

jihyo slammed you face first into the soft comforter, holding your head down with her hand tangled in between your messy locks.

“you’ve been pretty bold lately.” you squirmed under her and tried to get up, but your efforts proved pointless when jihyo forced you back down as she straddled your lower back.

she practically ripped her jacket off of you as she grabbed your hands together and began wrapping the silk tie around your wrists.

“first you kiss some other bitch in front of me..” your squeals unaffecting her, “now you wanna talk back?” her skilled knot tying skills leaving your wrists locked with no escape, “seems like my sweet girl forgot who she really is.”

your skirt rode up your ass during your pathetic attempt at fighting back, accidentally revealing a prominent damp spot left in your panties.

“oh, you fucking like this.” jihyo scoffed, groping your thighs and slapping your ass a couple times.

small moans left you unwillingly, your horniness completely blinding you from what your original plan was.

“please..” you whined, slightly lifting your ass up for her in hopes that she would understand your signal.

“hm? now you’re begging for me?” she laughed darkly, “you’re nothin’ but a pretty fuckin’ slut.”

jihyo hooked her fingers through your panties and slid them down your legs, throwing them off to the side.

your legs were hanging off the bed in such a perfect position for jihyo to just take you right there.

she bent down and kissed your ass roughly, practically inhaling your flesh into her mouth.

you felt her sink her teeth into your lower thigh, making you wince at the sharp pain.

the same marks she left on your upper half were now tattooed across your lower — purple bruises appearing evenly on each one of your cheeks.

“fuck, just fuck me please. ‘need you so bad-”

you had no idea when she strapped the harness across her hips — too lost in the pleasure of her mouth on your skin, but when you looked over your shoulder, she stood there — pants off, strap on.

without any warning, she slid the full length of her silicone cock inside your poor pussy, not even allowing you any time to adjust.

she held your wrists together with one hand as she mercilessly pounded your tight hole.

the way you clenched around her strap left your pussy aching as you cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“ngh- wait! ji- stop.. ‘hurts too much..” you stuttered, desperately grabbing at her forearm, digging your nails into her skin.

the squelching sounds that echoed against the walls drowned out the chorus of moans that you and jihyo made.

your wrists were going numb from how tight the silk was wrapped around them, her hold on you preventing you from moving out of her grip.

“yeah? you wanna act like a slut? i’ll fuckin’ treat you like one.” jihyo groaned out in between heavy breaths, “ ‘js take it like the bitch you are.” she was using this opportunity to take out her built up stress on you.

she flipped your skirt up against your back, letting the flowy fabric wave erratically every time she thrusted into you.

in your fit of mewls and fucked out moans, you felt yourself getting close — your walls clenching around her strap, making it difficult for her to fuck you at the same speed.

“my bitch. tell me who you fucking belong to.” she growled.

your brain was beyond the point of functioning, coherent words impossible to form.

“y-you- mmph only you, fuck- ‘m all yours.”

the sound of your skin clapping against each other threw both of you over the edge, your struggled screams partially muffled as you pressed your head further into the sheets.

“only i can fuckin’ have you like this.”

jihyo fucked you through your orgasm as your back arched acrobatically, coming around her strap and soaking her lap with your juices.

you shakily cried out frantic begs and pleads as your legs went limp against the bed.

your girlfriend bucked her hips slowly a few more times to let you catch your breath, her ringtone suddenly blaring on the nightstand.

jihyo tsked at being bothered at such an inconvenient time, pulling out of you and reaching for her phone.

you whined at the emptiness, simultaneously slipping into a slightly drunken coma.

“you g’na answer that?” you asked breathlessly, expecting her to put her job first per usual as she you watched her stare at her screen, contemplating.

she shook her head and threw her phone back onto the wooden nightstand, “no. i have better things you to do.”

[tvgals]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ NO NUT NOVEMBER? I HARDLY KNOW HER!

awkward! gojo x black! boss! reader

— when staying after work during no nut november, awkward! gojo ends the month with a bang…

gojo was at his desk typing away at his computer, subconsciously ignoring the strain against his pants. gojo hadn’t touched himself in a month, him and a few of his friends doing a stupid ass nnn challenge. gojo was an idiot for accepting the challenge, knowing that almost everyday when he’d go home he’d stroke his dick to the thought of you, his boss. some days your tits would pop out of the top of your shirts, your ass poking out of the bottom of your skirts anytime you bent down to pick up a pen you dropped or a document, all the men in the office thirsted over your fat pussy lips on display.

“ah! hello satoru, what are you doing here so late?” you teasingly ask, walking up to him. “oh! i just-i just had to take care of some documents i forgot about!” gojo stammered, his eyes glued to his computer because he knows that if he looks up at you, his erection will be even more painful. “i see.” you nod, walking behind gojo, slowly trailing your acrylics along his shoulders, your tits pressing against the back of his head. “you’re doing such a good job.” you praise the ivory haired man, rubbing circles along his back. “thank you ma’am…” gojo sighs out, peering down at his dick, the blood flowing faster than ever.

“mhm. i’ll be in my office if you need anything, make sure to knock first.” you smirk, walking away. gojo heaved a sigh and slumped down in his seat, unzipping his pants. i mean, he could tug one right here and now. you were in your office, and gojo heard you locking the door. so if he were to get off to the thought of you in the office, you wouldn’t know. gojo unzipped his pants and shimmied them down a bit, his cock hitting just at his belly button with a thud. he groans, slapping a hand over his mouth with the other works at his cock. “shit shit shit.” gojo moaned, muffled by his hand. you were in your office scrolling away on instagram, your other hand digging around in a bag of chips. you decided it was time for gojo to head home for the night, he’d been working hard the whole week, it was only fair to give him a break.

you stood up and opened your door, your heels clacking against the tile floor. your face scrunched up in confusion as you heard meek moans and whines. you slowly converted into a smile, walking up to gojo as he stroked his dick even faster. “ah satoru, what am i going to do with you?” you tut mockingly, gojo immediately letting go of his dick and looking up at you with puppy eyes. “no no! it isn’t what it looks like, promise!” gojo cried out, trying to pull his pants back up. in a swift motion, you pull your leg up and pin gojo’s dick to his stomach with the toe of your heel. “oh shit!” gojo chokes out a strangled moan.

“now who do you think you are getting off in my office?” you snarl, putting more pressure onto his dick. “i’m sorry, ma’am! i just n-needed- i just needed relief!” gojo cried, fat tears streaming down his face. “my stupid little employee, what ever will i do with you?” you coo, retracting your foot from his dick. you hiked your skirt up and pulled your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles before stepping out of them. “w-what are you doing?..” gojo whispers, his eyes glued to your thighs. “teaching you a lesson. however will you learn to not touch yourself in my building?” you ask, unbuttoning your blouse to let your tits pop out freely. gojo’s breath starts to become more heavy and dense.

“i’m so- sorry! please ma’am, i’ll never come back!” gojo pleaded, his hands gripping at the handles of his chair. “oh no, you can stay as much as you want. it’s when you get too much free will, that’s my problem with you.” you say, staring into gojo’s eyes. you make your way in from of him, grasping his dick and slowly sinking down. gojo hisses and bucks his hips up involuntarily. “i’m sorry ma’am..” gojo whines, throwing his head back. you respond with a moan once you make it to the base. “feel so good already…” you laugh airily. gojo start breathing heavier and heavier, curling his toes in his work shoes. you open gojo’s computer and skim through a few documents, slowly rolling your hips onto his. “ah, satoru. these documents are all wrong!” you sigh out, now bouncing up and down onto his dick.

“‘m sorry, ma’am..i’m trying..” gojo whined, moving a hand to grab the fat of your hip. “apparently not hard enough.” you mumble to yourself, bringing gojo’s other hand that was grasping his chair to pinch your nipple. “doing so good f’me baby..” you mewl, trying to keep focused on the documents. “thank you so much..been thinking about this for years almost…all th-this time i’ve worked here…always had my..my eyes on you.” gojo admitted, you still bouncing on his cock. “you had all of these chances, satoru. what happened?” you ask, deleting all of gojo’s hard work. “was scared…i d-didn’t know how to talk to you…” gojo said, feeling his high approaching. you giggled to yourself, the gojo who barely talked to people at work and who often ate lunch alone in his car wanted you.

“i see..” you mumble, the feeling of satoru’s tip hitting your cervix becoming too much. “‘m gonna cum! please ma’am!” gojo practically screamed, arching his back. “give it to me, baby. cmon.” you coax gojo, feeling his hand move from your tit and to start vigorously rubbing your clit. you moaned out at the extra stimulation, feeling yourself let go. “shit- pl-please keep cumming..” gojo whined, slamming his cock upwards into you. gojo came with a whine, both of his hands gripping at your hips.

“g-good boy..” you praised gojo, loving the way his dick twitched inside of you. “t-thank you ma’am..” gojo cries out, feeling you stand up off of his dick. “don’t mention it.” you sigh out. “here, wear these tomorrow. i’ll check.” you demand, throwing your black lacy panties at him, walking back to your office. gojo nodded silently and turned back to his computer, his eyes widening at all the work that was lost by you. looks like he’ll have to stay later tomorrow.

TAGLIST —

@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @yuckyygutz @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ the letters ; cc13

➪ summary: with cole being gone, sometimes it gets a little hard to keep up with the mess of the holidays. but he always makes sure that they'll continue the tradition that has happened since they were kids.

➪ warnings: none... i don't think

➪ word count: 1.1k

➪ file type: fic - ho ho hockey!

➪ cupid's notes: part of ho ho hockey! i changed the summary of this fic so many times. i originally had it as a dash and lily hockey spin off but then it made my head hurt so i changed it, and then i changed it five time after that. and also lowkey this isn't the best thing i've written so let's ignore that, please.

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

It was a tradition that had been in her and Cole’s family since they were born. Every year, even when they were just babies, their parents would write them a letter to open up and read. It usually consisted of funny memories that had happened throughout the year, achievements that they’ve had (their first word, they walked, graduated preschool, etc.), and always at the end there would be words of encouragement and telling them how much they loved them. It was her favorite part about Christmas.

They didn’t stop it even as they went off to college and Cole moved to Montreal. It didn’t stop when she graduated college and she moved in with Cole. It didn’t stop when they started dating, it didn’t stop when they didn’t see them for Christmas, and it wouldn’t stop now. Even when Cole and y/n were just starting the tradition as parents.

It would be their first Christmas since their son was born, and the pressure of continuing the tradition weighed on their shoulders. Y/n sat at their kitchen counter, head in her hands as she soaked up the quietness that surrounded her. She had just woken up to Oliver crying, getting up to go calm him down and get him back to bed. 

She made her way out to the kitchen, quickly realizing that there was no way she was getting herself back to sleep, especially after seeing what time it was and knowing that Cole would be home soon. She made herself a cup of coffee, sipping it slowly as she stared at the door, almost like she was willing him to walk through it. 

It had been a long few days for her and her son, Cole was gone on the start of the Canadiens road trip that would pick up after the holiday break, and she had to finish up some last-minute Christmas shopping and baking. She was utterly exhausted, but she had to wait until Cole got home so they could write the letter together, something the two of them had been looking forward to since they found out she was pregnant. 

It was late into the night when she heard the door unlocking, looking up from her almost empty cup of coffee and the blank sheet of paper that sat next to it, seeing Cole step through the door with messy hair and his bag slung over his coat-clad shoulder. 

She watched as he slipped his shoes off, placing his bag down next to them. When he finally looked up from the ground, his eyes landed on her tired form. Immediately his eyes softened and his lips turned down slightly, moving over to her, “Hey sweetheart.”

“Hi,” her voice was soft, laced with sleep as she leaned into his side, head resting on his chest.

“You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. Missed you.”

“Missed you too, baby.” He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head, “I’m gonna go change and then we can do that if you want,” He gestured to the paper and the pen. 

She only nodded in response, resting her head on her arms as she watched him walk towards their bedroom. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Before she knew it, Cole was coming back out of their bedroom, now dressed in a random pair of old shorts and one of her favorite Canadiens sweatshirts of his. She smiled at the sight of him, opening her arms and bringing him into a hug once he got close enough to her.

“Did you watch the game?” He let his hands slip under the shirt she was wearing, 

“Yeah, Ollie slept through most of it.”

“How long has he been asleep now?”

She glanced over at the clock before looking up at him, “15 minutes.”

“M’sorry baby, wish I could be here more to help.”

Y/n just shook her head, “Don’t. It’s okay, you’re a good dad, Cole. You’re going to have so many moments with him, and trust me, you’re not missing anything.”

His grip on her tightened, burying his head into her hair as he stood there. The two just hugged each other in silence for the next few moments before he pulled away, reaching for the pen and sitting down next to her. 

They stared at the paper for a while, both unsure of what to actually write. After ten minutes, the two shared a glance and immediately busted out laughing, unable to catch their breaths.

When they finally calmed themselves down, y/n sighed, reaching over to take the pen from her boyfriend’s hand, “I don’t know how our parents managed to do this every year, it feels so awkward.”

More minutes passed by, the two only exchanging soft words of ideas that were swirling in their minds. Yet as soon as she pressed the pen to the paper and started writing, all thoughts evaporated into thin air as she wrote. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, exactly how she felt, even if he wouldn’t be able to read it Christmas morning, he could look back on it.

She was done with the page before she handed it to Cole, an embarrassed grin as she did so. He raised an eyebrow, turning the paper over slowly, “Get a little carried away there?”

“Shut up and write. Though there’s no telling how well he’s going to be able to read it.” She teased, pushing him slightly.

“Hey! My handwriting is not that bad!”

“Really? Because I think I still have the card from our anniversary last year that definitely does not say my name on it.”

“It does too! I wrote it letter for letter. I think I write and say your name enough for me to know what it is.”

“Tell that to my card then.”

He rolled his eyes, a grin still plastered on his face as he reached over and tickled her sides. She squealed, jumping up and trying to get away from him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down into his lap.

She leaned into him, kissing his cheek as she settled in her new ‘seat’. It was only a few minutes after when she heard the soft cries coming from Oliver’s bedroom, groaning in response.

“You go get some more sleep, baby.” He slid her off his lap, patting her butt once her feet hit the ground, “I’ll get him to bed and I’ll finish writing this letter, then I’ll come find you.”

She nodded, kissing him before walking into their bedroom, curling up in the messy sheets.Maybe Cole’s schedule wasn’t the most convenient, but that didn’t mean they would have to stop doing traditions or the letters, or any of it. They’d make it work, they always did.

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© CUPIDBEDSY

[mynicosensesaretingling]

hiii ! I saw your post about the elections , i hope you’ll be okay over there even with those results ! Could i request a oneshot or some HC about brocedes with a reader who’s really burnout and struggling through med school ? If writing about the brocedes together is a no-no for you, just lewis or max would be just as fine ! take care ! 👋 from France

thank you for your request and the warmest greetings back to you! 💓

Here are your HCs, I hope you enjoy them:

-Nico immediately notices when you’re feeling off. His sharp attention to detail extends beyond the track, and he’s always quick to check in with you. He’ll sit you down with a cup of tea and listen to you vent, making sure you feel heard.

-If everything becomes too much to you, he gladly takes on the role of the planner, trying to organize a “study schedule” for you , complete with color-coded breaks. He’s determined to help you balance work and rest. He swears by his "methodical approach" and keeps saying, "Efficiency is the key to success!" like it’s his personal mantra. Knowing full well that burnout is something you can’t push through. He even plans study breaks filled with distractions to get you out of your head.

-If he’s not with you, expect him to send you motivational messages at random times. “Just one more chapter, you’ve got this! 💪” and “The finish line is in sight! Proud of you.” He’s very big on helping you visualize success.

-Lewis has been through the highs and lows of intense pressure, so he’s always dropping little nuggets of wisdom about mental strength and perseverance, making it his mission to remind you to not be so hard on yourself.

-When he finds out you’re overworking yourself, he’ll say things like, “You wouldn’t want me to race an F1 car at full speed every day without maintenance, right? So why are you doing that to yourself?”

-Expect Lewis to show up with (vegan) treats or comfort food, gently reminding you that self-care is just as important as studying.

-Despite their rivalry on the track, Nico and Lewis put all of that aside to create a support system for you. They understand what it means to be under immense pressure, so they tag-team in making sure you don’t fall too deep into a burnout.

-They most likely just push their way into your apartment with such ease, like this wasn’t the first time they’d interrupted your study sessions.

-Nico is more practical, offering to help you with organization and structure, while Lewis is all about positive energy and mental health. Together, they provide a well-rounded support system, making sure you feel supported both mentally and physically.

-They’d likely throw in some playful banter between them just to make you smile. “Don’t let Nico make you study too hard; remember who won the most races,” Lewis might say, with Nico replying, “You can’t meditate your way through med school, Lewis. Trust me, the best way to succeed is with a plan.” Lewis, shoots him a cheeky grin,“Yeah? How’d your plan go in 2016? Oh right, you retired after one win.” Throwing a pen at Lewis, Nico laughs. “I’m still a world champion. And unlike you, I don’t make people meditate through stressful situations.”

-They plan a "med school pit stop" day, where they whisk you away for an entire day of fun and relaxation. Whether it’s a day trip to a spa, a race day, or just chilling at home with movies and food, they make sure you’re not thinking about school for at least a few hours.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 22 . Pen Pals

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____,

I don’t understand why you prefer such a bothersome way of communication when we have communication devices but if it’s what you want. 

We have successfully acquired the earth attribute power that White Star is looking for. It’s currently in my possession but I did not absorb it so you don’t have to worry about my plate. I’ll explain everything to you once we see each other. The trial to get this power was in the form of battling a giant snake that can lure people by playing with their feelings such as sorrow. The sight wasn’t pretty. It was gruesome, something you wouldn’t want to see.

However, the ending sight was a spectacle. The way the snake turned into flower petals was quite pretty. I think you would have liked to see it for yourself. Nonetheless, you should stay there where it is safe. Ron has told you that he left some of the members of the Molan household in your care. Don’t hesitate to use them at your disposal.

Sincerely,

Cale

Dear Cale,

Thank you for indulging my whims and using letters as our way to communicate. I prefer it this way as this puts no pressure on you to respond immediately. As for my end of things, I’m doing fine. I hope you are too. Territory work is a lot harder than I anticipated. Paperwork is easy, as I’ve learned a lot from our time in Mogoru. However, everything else is physically taxing. Despite that, it’s manageable as I have a lot of people helping me. 

Again, please take your time. Whether it’s about responding to my letters or explaining your secrets to me. You can take it slow. Remember that I’ll just be here waiting whenever you are waiting.

Please stay safe and always take care of your health. I will be waiting until the next time I hear from you again.

Sincerely,

_____

Dear Count Perduellio,

Remember when we talked about giving the Dark Elves their territory? I have some great news to share with you. Thanks to the help of my younger brother, we might have a chance to acquire the Land of Death. If everything goes according to plan, the Dark Elves will be able to live aboveground soon. Until then, I shall trust you to take care of them.

As for other news, I am sure you have heard about Cale Henituse’s status right now in the Caro Kingdom. Fear not for he is safe. In fact, that punk is energetic enough to treat the crown prince’s bedroom as if it were his own. He’s currently eating my cookies as I write this letter.

That’s all I can share for now. I will update you if other news comes my way.

Sincerely,

Alberu Crossman

Dear Crown Prince Alberu,

I’m delighted to hear such news. It would be great if the Roan Kingdom could give the Dark Elves the Land of Death as they are already familiar with it. As for the Dark Elves within my care, they are also doing well. They have started to settle in the homes we have provided for them and have initiated socializing with the other residents. So far all of them are living in harmony. Children playing, the market bustling, humans and Dark Elves becoming friends. All of this is happening without discrimination.

Of course, I shall observe some more to make sure that all is going positively. However, Your Highness, can you write such brash words? If anyone else were to read your letter it would surely tarnish the reputation of our rising sun a little bit. Good thing we send our letters through special means that will keep their secrecy.

I hope the crown’s endeavours will go splendidly. I shall await more news once it arrives.

Sincerely,

_____ Perduellio

_____,

Have you been doing well? You’ve probably heard from his highness that I am fine despite what the rumours say. There are some things I found out that left me with more questions than answers. To solve that I will be visiting the World Tree. I only wrote this letter to inform you of that, so you won’t worry if ever you can’t contact me.

Sincerely,

Cale

Dear Cale,

I am doing well for the most part. But my body feels heavy these days along with a headache that will come and go. Don’t worry, the healer said it’s probably because of the weather and from me staring at documents too much. It will pass soon. 

You’re going to visit the World Tree? Be careful on your travels. I hope you get the answers you are looking for.

Sincerely,

_____

Dear Count _____,

I have heard from my eldest child that you are not feeling well. Some instances cannot be helped, but you must take care of yourself as much as possible. Do not be afraid to let your retainers and servants shoulder some of the work. You did not clean them up for nothing after all. 

After hearing about your condition I have ordered someone to send you some herbal tea that will help with your headaches. It can also improve your sleep quality. I would like to be there myself, but alas I must stay in the duchy for now.

I will make sure to visit you the first chance I get. Until then, take care of yourself and your health.

Sincerely,

Violan Henituse

Dear Duchess Violan,

I have received the herbal tea you have sent and truly works wonders. Some of my headaches are elevated and my sleep has improved these days. I shall use this tea well as thanks for your generosity. 

As another way to give my thanks, I have sent out a sample of a gem we are currently refining. The design is still in its early stage that’s why it may look a bit rough. I will make sure to send you another one once it’s complete. 

Sincerely,

_____ Perduellio

Dear _____-nim,

Good day _____-nim, are you doing well? Everyone in the duchy is worried about you as you have not responded to any of our letters for a while now. While taking care of work I have also noticed that the Perduellio Territory’s security has gotten tighter. They seem to be keeping something hush.

We are all worried about your silence. I sincerely hope that you are doing well and was just too busy to respond.

Please respond as soon as possible,

Basen Henituse

Dear Duke Henituse,

Good day duke, you may not be familiar with me so I shall introduce myself. I am Viscount Legalem, one of Count Perduellio’s retainers. I am sending this letter to inform you of the count’s condition. Our dear count has fallen unconscious and will not wake up. 

That may make you wonder why I am sending you a letter instead of contacting you through a communication device. I have three reasons to do so; (1) I want to respect Count _____’s decision. They have told me to contact you by letter if it’s not an emergency. I would like to honour that child’s decisions; (2) As I mentioned it is not an emergency, our healers have checked on them and said that nothing is wrong internally and they would be fine even in an unconscious state, and; (3) I have been told by Count _____ to contact either you or Commander Cale if something happens to them. I have no way of contacting the commander which is why I have turned to you.

Our healers and other experts who have checked on Count _____’s condition have found nothing wrong. However, I am still worried as they are not waking up no matter what we do. Thankfully, they are not injured, cursed, or poisoned. Regretfully, we still have not found the reason as to why they are unconscious.

The territory itself is doing well even in the absence of our count. Count _____ has always made sure to get ahead of their work as they said they aren’t sure when the commander will call for them. Nonetheless, our territory would very much appreciate it if you could lend some of your healers and experts to assess our count’s condition. A second opinion would be beneficial to see if our healers have missed anything.

Sincerely,

Viscount Legalem

[storm-angel989]

How would vox and the other fees react to his 11 old being poet? She's young but wise? People a?ways say she's mature for her age aswell.

Hi there,

I’m assuming you mean Vox’s daughter! As a poet myself, this one took me back. 

Take a peek at what I’ve come up with and enjoy!

<3 Mandy

Vox leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he studied his daughter. As usual, her homework had been tucked neatly into a pink manilla folder and left on the coffee table for him to review. Her clothes were chosen and laid out on her dresser, and all the small chores she was responsible for were complete- from her bed being made, to her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. 

But of course, that was who she was as a being. Neat, tidy, responsible and organized in a way that made sense to her. At first it concerned him, just how mature she was for her age. Worried him that she preferred the company of her writing to a television. But she seemed to have friends at school, and go on playdates. With everything else seemingly fine, he had to accept that she was a writer. Plain and simple. 

As he stood and watched, he wondered when her next writing pause would be. It wouldn’t do to yell to get her attention. He could see from across the room that she had her ear buds in. And he didn’t interrupt her when she was focused so intently. So instead, he waited and watched as the pen she held scribbled across an open composition notebook.

“I don’t want to write on a computer dad, I need to see my mistakes- learn from them so that I can be a better writer,” she had told him when he first offered her a laptop. “Besides, I like pen and paper. There is a feeling when you put ink down, and doing things digitally just doesn’t work for me.” 

He supposed she had a point. And even though he was the overlord of technology, he preferred for her to limit her screen time- lest she end up with glasses like her Uncle Valentino. 

His next offer was to buy her fancier notebooks- leather bound, decorated, whatever she desired. Surly, she would prefer something pretty over plain composition notebooks. But much like the laptop, she politely declined.

“Daddy, I don’t want fancy books to write in. It just puts pressure on me to not make mistakes, and I don’t want that. I want the freedom to scribble and correct and edit without feeling like it has to be right the first time.” 

He watched as her pen lifted from the paper and she looked down. There. There was the pause he was waiting for. He strode across the room and tapped her shoulder gently. 

She looked up at him as she took her earbuds out. 

“Hi Daddy! Perfect timing, I just finished,” she replied excitedly. “Will Auntie Vel and Uncle Val be home tonight? I think I’m ready to share!”

“They’re already,” Vox replied as he kissed the top of her head. “Dinner is almost done. Do you want to read to us before or after dinner?”

“Before,” she replied quickly as she stood up. She gathered her notebook in her arms and carried it quickly out to the dining room. 

Vox followed behind, pleased at her response. The first time he asked her about her writing, she shut down. Eventually, he got her to share that she was embarrassed- self conscious about the things she created. In her words, to keep the mistakes to herself and learn by herself was one thing, but to share them with the world- even just her family- was another. It took quite a bit of  encouragement and love to boost her confidence, and devise a system that worked for her. 

He sat between Valentino and Velvette as she took her place in the center of the living room. They listened intently as she recited her written poem, snapped when she finished and waited for her to open the floor to feedback. Learning to accept criticism was difficult for most adults, but Reader seemed to relish it. The three Vee’s quickly learned that specific praise, questions and thoughtful critiqued resonated more with her than simple positive feedback. 

“I’m going to put my notebook away,” reader said cheerfully once everyone had said their piece. “And then I’ll be out for dinner!”

Vox watched as she practically skipped down the hallway. 

“You know, Vox, she’s quite the wordsmith,” Velvette said as she followed him to the dining room. 

“And mature for her age. Have we broached the topic of publishing?” Valentino asked. 

Vox nodded, “I did. She said she’s not ready yet and she just wants to enjoy her passion.”

“And passion it is,” Valentino mused. “I can respect that. She truly is quite talented.”

[suniix]

06 | miyamura x reader

synopsis | miyamura notices you’ve been acting odd and asks you about it. you tell him about how you might’ve found someone special

word count | 1k+

note | im back guys 😭 sorry for the long wait and short chapter. also! i estimate there will be like maybe 3 more chapters for this story! maybe a one more or one less, depending how much i write per chapter

previous | mlist | next

It’s been two days since you first saw the mysterious pink guy.

Suddenly now he seemed to be everywhere. Every time you arrive at the school gates you’d see him. Every time you’d walk to the vending machines you’d see him. You’d even see him on your way to the bathroom!

You continued to see him walking down the halls and you wondered if only now that you were aware of his existence were you able to notice him more often.

Ever since your encounter with him you’ve been feeling odd, like seeing him reawakened a memory deep inside your brain. You tried to hide how you were feeling, but Miyamura noticed, you know he did.

It was obvious that something was on your mind by how often you spaced out, staring out into the hallway as if you were looking for something.

Or someone.

You tapped your nails against the desk, trying to focus on the teacher when your eyes caught movement outside your class. A mop of pink hair fluttered down the hall and you had to resist the urge to gasp. Him again!

Would it be weird if you left class to follow him? Surely class had to be over soon, the teacher had been talking for what felt like hours! But what would you even say to him? Tell him to popping up everywhere? It’s not like he was following you, if anything he could argue that you were the one following him!

As creepy as it was, you don’t think he was stalking you. Every time you looked at him he never met your eyes. His gaze was always focused elsewhere. You don’t even think he’s noticed you staring.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when someone tapped you on your shoulder. Miyamura is standing behind you looking concerned. “Hey, do you feel okay?”

A quick look around the class told you that class was in fact over. The students that remained were packing their bags and the teacher had already left for lunch.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, I didn’t sleep that much last night.” You make up an excuse that Miyamura would hopefully accept.

His face was enough to tell you he didn’t, but he didn’t comment on it. If you had something you wanted to tell him he wouldn’t pressure you into saying it.

“Come on, everyone’s left already. Yoshikawa wanted to eat somewhere else.” He held out his hand for you to take and you felt your heart flutter at the gesture.

You placed your hand in his and he gently pulled you up. In that moment as he led you out of class you felt your mind go blank. No thoughts of mysterious pink guy, no thoughts of mysterious old friend— nothing.

Just the warm feeling of his hand holding yours.

Lunch was almost enough to distract you.

Keyword: almost.

Yoshikawa had decided that she needed a change in scenery for lunch. The weather was nice so when she suggested everyone eat outside no one was against the idea.

You were especially happy with it. Maybe you’ve seen mysterious pink guy so often because you only hang out in the same places all the time.

Everyone took a seat at a table outside and spoke about random things as they unpacked their food. Slowly, your mind drifted away from mysterious pink guy as you joined in the conversation with your friends.

“Yoshikawa I’m telling you no one wants to steal your pens!”

“You literally stole my pen during our last project!”

Tooru huffed and crossed his arms. “I didn’t steal it! I borrowed it!”

“Without my permission! That’s stealing!” Yoshikawa argued back.

“Yoshikawa does have nice pens. If I was her I’d be super protective of them.” You joined in.

Tooru gasped at your betrayal and Miyamura chuckled.

You looked up from your food and nearly started choking when you saw the same pink hair you’ve been seeing for two days.

This had to be a coincidence.

“Woah! You okay there?” Tooru asked while Miyamura rushed to pat your back.

At the commotion the pink haired guy looked over and for the first time in two days you guys locked eyes.

Or maybe it was fate.

“I’m good!” You coughed out. “I just ate too fast.”

Miyamura handed you some water and you thanked him. “Don’t scare us like that.” Hori sighed.

You nervously chuckled. “My bad..”

Lunch continued, but you didn’t participate in the conversation after that.

After a while lunch ended. You all gathered your trash and began to head back to class. As your friends continued to walk ahead you lingered back, hoping to spot a hint of pink somewhere in the crowd.

“(Y/n)?”

You quickly turned forward to see Hori. “Oh! Hey Hori!” You quickly sputtered out, hoping she didn’t notice you looking for someone.

“Remember that guy from the student council room? I found out his name; it’s Akane Yanagi.”

“Yanagi..” You mumbled. He has a pretty name, it matches his appearance.

“Come on now,” Hori linked arms with you. “We have to keep walking or else we’ll be late.”

Hori pretended to not notice your dazed look.

The walk home was silent, but you felt as though your mind was going to explode with all your thoughts. You couldn’t decide what you should do.

He knows he told himself he wouldn’t force you to say what was bothering you, but he couldn’t stand seeing you look so distressed. Maybe all you needed was a small push to show he was here to listen.

He stopped in his tracks and called your name when he saw you kept walking. You stopped and turned around, about to ask him why he stopped when he gestured for you to follow him.

“Um.. Miyamura? Where are we going?” You asked. “We were about to get home..”

He smiled and you felt your heart jump. “It’s a secret.”

You didn’t say much after that, thinking about how your heart kept reacting to him. You already had enough to worry about with mysterious pink guy, there was no time to think about how your feelings for Miyamura weren’t going away!

“We’re here.”

The two of you stopped right in front of a park.

The park was small but cute, there was a grassy area along with a small pond. In it were two ducks swimming side by side. The walk here was so short you were shocked you didn’t notice this place earlier. Maybe I should have explored the neighborhood more..

Miyamura led you over to a pair of swings and took a seat on one. You sat down and began to gently swing your legs. After a moment of silence Miyamura broke it.

“So, wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

You stopped swinging and pretended to look confused.

“You’ve been acting a bit weird these days. You don’t have to tell me, but know that I’m always here to listen.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. Out of all your friends he was the one to notice you were acting odd. Well, maybe the others noticed too, but he was the one to reassure you he was willing to listen.

You clear your throat, gently digging your shoe into the dirt. “Well, remember how I told you when I was little I had a friend?”

He nodded, feeling his heart begin to speed up.

“Two days ago when I was with Hori I saw this guy and… I think it’s him.”

Miyamura felt his heart drop.

“He was just.. He reminded me so much of him, I don’t really know why.”

As you kept talking Miyamura felt himself spiral. How could this happen? Was this his punishment for not being honest with you earlier?

“Miyamura?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “So? What do you think?”

He could only manage a shaky ‘mmm?’. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear you ask a question.

“Do you think it could be him? After all these years?” You repeated, fiddling with your fingers.

Miyamura thought about it.

You were asking him for advice, advice you’d very likely listen to. He could tell you how the chances of him being your mysterious old friend were slim to none (because he was your old friend) or how anything in the world was possible (because you somehow found him again).

“Maybe.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

“You won’t know until you talk to him.”

You look down at your lap, processing his words. You get off the swing, feeling nervous for what was to come.

You’ve made up your mind.

“You’re right.”

thank you for reading till the end! :D

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Hey!!! I know I just sent an ask the other day but I didn't what to forget to ask this

Can I have a drabble where jay has a panic attack because he hears some sort of sound that zayne makes (example the click of zayne's knife).

love your writing so much!!

Have a wonderful day and get good sleep❤️

Fidgety

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

Jay didn’t mind afternoon team meetings as much, really. It was a bit of a break in the day for him, half an hour to shut his mind off, sit back, and just listen. Maybe pipe up every now and then, or zone out and mull over the words for his upcoming articles, but mainly, just, listen.

Today however, he was distracted. Or rather, kept getting distracted.

Unfortunately, Peter had a habit of clicking his pen when he was paying attention. He had one of those blue pens with a button on the side that clicked the plunger back. And he was very much paying attention now.

Normally, it wouldn’t really bother Jay and he could shut it out. But, well, first, his nerves were shot, and very close in second, the click sounded like that of Zayne’s knife. A little shk with every click and he could practically see the blade flick out in his mind’s eye. He managed to reduce his flinches with every click, blinked his eyes, twitched his fingers, skipped a heartbeat, but on the inside, everything went haywire.

He forced himself to take deep breaths, keep in control, to stop the hyperventilation from kicking in. Forced himself to focus on who was speaking, on the actual words spoken – that didn’t mean they actually hit the mark; he listened intently but the panic rising scattered the words from their sentences like leaves in the wind.

Calm down. He was safe. He was here in the office. He was—

Shk

He was down on the floor, face pressed against the wood, a heavy weight on the small of his back pinning him down.

Shk

Something cold tickled over his back. Something sharp. Pressure slowly increased and the cold tipped into his skin, breaking it, a wet hot sensation bubbling up, fighting against the cold intruding as if trying to expel it. Then it repeated itself. And again. Hot lines carved into his skin with a cold instrument, by a cold tormentor. The weight draped over his shoulders. A chuckle in his ear. The call of his name, an added fake compliment how he was doing so well—

“Jay.” Dennis’ sharp voice broke through his haze and shocked him back into the meeting room. “Could you write the suggestions down for me?”

Dennis, leading the meeting, stood in front of the whiteboard and held out one of the markers. He had a concerned look in his eyes and beckoned him over.

Jay pulled himself from his own swamp of anxiety and gratefully stood. “Yeah. Sure.” He accepted the marker and Dennis held it a split second longer than necessary. His focus was still on his discussion with Terry, but his eyes briefly snapped to Jay searching his for some form of assurance before he let go and stepped forward, resuming his talk.

Jay fully turned towards the board to hide his face. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, let out a long exhale, and uncapped the marker, facing the group again.

Shk

Something pressed against his stomach, something cold, sharp. A sharp gasp and he made a tiny jump backwards. But he quickly calmed down again when he realised it was only the magnetic tray for the eraser stuck to the whiteboard.

As one of the other team members was speaking, Dennis slowly walked over to Peter, tapped on the table to get his attention and gestured his fingers down. Peter got the message and put his pen away. A little something about Dennis Jay greatly admired. He himself would never do that, scared of being accused of making a fuss about nothing, inviting confrontation. But Dennis not only did it, he did it without even saying a word, without making the other feel bad.

And best of all: he did it for Jay.

-

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