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strawberrykidneystone · 2 months ago

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benchwarmer

sevika x gender neutral reader

summary: you weren’t one to get your hands dirty unless you had to, hence why you were mainly on the sidelines with isha while jinx and sevika were taking care of smeech, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun

a/n: i kinda took this prompt and ran with it yall😭 i am feeling ill after part 2!!!!!!! so here's some fluff teehee!

tags: canon-typical violence, teasing, fluff, THEY ARE FAMILY

ao3 version

ty for requesting @nymphux!!

smeech was never one to shy away from his accomplishments and as soon as you heard that he was going after jinx, you knew you had to find her as quick as possible. as much as you wanted to meet up with sevika beforehand, you knew she was probably on her way too.

well, you hoped she was at least.

jinx was capable, but smeech definitely wouldn’t go down without a fight. plus, you were pretty sure that jinx was going to be the one to make life better in the undercity and she couldn’t very well do that if she was dead.

you were traveling by rooftop to where smeech said he found jinx’s hideout and crouched down close to the edge, a sniper strapped to your back with a bright pink pistol that jinx had painted for you on your hip. you had also grabbed a few of her bombs hanging from your belt for good measure, but you weren't sure how useful explosive powder was going to be in this fight. damn this place was in the middle of nowhere, even for the undercity. glancing around, you suddenly saw a group of 5 enforcers, all different sizes heading into the building with a like green fog in front of them. was that…. the grey?

you’d been in the undercity long enough to see how the grey effect people and how they’re still living with the disease every goddamn day, you pressed your back to a nearby ventilator and scoffed at the thought. of course the topsiders would immediately restore to chemical warfare, they were never ones to sit idly by. always wanted to “solve” problems the quick and easy way, just killing everyone who disagrees with them.

great.

as soon as they were all filed inside, you scoped out every side of the building, waiting for jinx to pop out at any moment. she was sly and quick enough to get out of there, right? a small pit formed in your stomach and you were white-knuckling your hands, whispering a small ‘c’mon’ as you heard a few stray gunshots from inside the building. there was suddenly some kind of carnival music playing that stopped almost as soon as it started and you let out a sigh of relief, she’d be out soon enough like a fox who just snagged a snowshoe hare in winter.

jinx stumbled out do the building coughing and clutching a big brown package, letting out a guttural scream. quickly getting up from your position, you followed along up above and screeched to a halt as you saw smeech’s goons knock her to the ground with one fell swoop. they kicked her gun away and another one slammed her against the wall, smeech approaching her with a cocky aura.

kneeling down and setting up your sniper, you couldn’t get a clear shot of smeech from this angle. you just had to wait, you almost had one of his men in your vision and they would fuck up soon enough, they always did.

smeech started monologuing to jinx and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, god this shimmerhead was as dumb as they come. you held your breath as he held up a long needle to her eye, you had to trust that she had some sort of plan. she always did, even in situations like this. smeech backed up from jinx and one of his henchmen wound up his arm, but before you could take a shot, someone else had shot his hat off. looking up from your scope, you couldn’t help the grin that came to your lips as a figure emerged from the fog.

sevika.

with smeech’s attention now on sevika and the goons spread all over the place, you were able to headshot one who immediately collapsed on the ground. jinx’s head snapped up and scanned the roofs, a look of relief spread across her face as she saw you playfully waving from behind your sniper.

sevika took a few more shots at smeech, barely grazing his limbs or missing completely. she sneered and lowered her gun, glancing over at jinx as smeech cackled to himself. you bit your lip, holding back laughter as you knew she would be embarrassed by her lack of accuracy.

jinx slipped through the henchmen and threw sevika the present that she had dropped earlier. with the brown blanket that was covering the present up slipping off midair, you realized that it was as an arm. a new arm. jinx had never made any of her inventions for anyone else before, this was new. a good new. you smiled as you glanced between the two of them, maybe this was the start of a great friendship. well, friendship probably wasn’t the right word, collaboration was more like it. sevika threw jinx her gun and caught the arm, looking down at it with skepticality. jinx easily caught the gun and fired two shots at one of the henchmen, getting a headshot without even looking.

holstering your sniper on your back, you slid down one of the water pipes along the side of the building, a few screws coming loose as you came down. sevika threw off her poncho dramatically and hooked on her new arm. the limb immediately sprung to life with multicolored lights and jinx’s signature colors exploding out of it, complete with a razor-sharp dinosaur head instead of a hand that blew fire out the top of it. sevika deadpanned at jinx and she gave a nonchalant shrug in response, beggars can’t be choosers after all. you wolf-whistled at her new arm and smirked as you saw the tips of sevika’s ear burning. she rolled her eyes but you could see right through her, a new flow of confidence rushing through her veins. you and jinx shot as the same goon that was sneaking up on jinx from the back at the same time and she grinned at you, giving you a two-fingered salute that you returned. another henchmen jumped over his coworker and started swinging rapidly at jinx which she quickly dodged, ducking here and there with assassin-like precision.

suddenly, you felt a hand on your hip. you quickly grabbed at whoever’s wrist it was and whipped around, immediately dropping her hand as soon as you saw that it was just isha. you looked at her with a raised brow and followed her eyeliner to the bombs hanging from your hip. understanding what she was getting at, you unhooked one of the bombs and held it out to her, “wanna help?”

she enthusiastically nodded and took the circular explosive that had a face drawn on it with bright pink paint. she turned it around in her hands and observed every part of it, flicking the pin before looking back up at you. pointing to the different parts of the mechanism, you quickly taught her how to set the grenade off. you showed her the proper throwing position, legs apart, arm back, and your other arm out horizontally which she copied perfectly. you kneeled down and nodded to her, glancing back over at the fight. pointing right at the goon's head, you smirked at isha, “that’s your target.”

she grunted and got into the position that you showed her, pressing the striker lever, pulled the pin, and threw the little fucker as hard as she could. the grenade hit the back of his head and ricochetted almost directly up. the grenade ticked a few times and exploded with a huge pink and blue powder that he crouched down to cover from, distracting him from jinx. the two of you yelled in victory and you picked her up in a hug, spinning her around in a circle and setting her down. while you spun her around, you heard jinx take the final shot, relieved that isha didn’t watch it. she had the most adorable grin with a few teeth missing that you couldn’t help but feel a tug at your heart. you took off her hat and ruffled her hair, “not bad kid, not bad at all!”

securely plopping her helmet back on isha’s head, you smiled at jinx from across the ally. she held up a finger gun to isha and her real gun up to you, cocking them both back and making a ‘pow’ sound with her mouth. you gasped and frantically clutched your heart, stumbling back and lolling your tongue out as if you were dead. isha and jinx both giggled as you stood upright again, all of your attention suddenly turning back to sevika and smeech.

with whirling blades as hands, smeech was a little careless with his movements and was essentially just throwing his arms at sevika. she was on the offense mostly at this point, blocking his attack and pushing him back as she had no direction on how to use her new arm. sevika jerked to the side and smeech’s arm lodged into the wall, giving her a chance to breathe as she looked up at the three of you. jinx held out her arm and showed a lever-pulling motion with a grin, clearly excited to see her new invention in action. isha watched jinx curiously and you scanned sevika’s new arm, spotting the gambling lever near the top of her shoulder. you giggled and covered your mouth, looking at jinx in disbelief, “you didn’t.”

jinx raised her eyes brows in a challenge and nodded, “oh yes i did.”

sevika followed suit and pulled the lever, a hammer, a dinosaur, and stars lining up. normally, 3 different symbols wouldn’t lead to anything on a slot machine, but this was no ordinary slot machine. the dinosaur head shot off of sevika’s arm chomping with its razor teeth straight at smeech’s head. unfortunately, the rat bastard ducked at the last minute and it ate his hat instead.

you cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled, “good riddance! it was an ugly hat anyways!”

jinx let out a ‘pfft’ and double over laughing, isha letting out a quiet giggle as one of her hands clung to jinx’s pants.

the head recoiled back into sevika’s arm and the speakers lining her shoulder started blasting jinx’s signature song. sevika exhaled in exasperation and looked up at jinx with a raised eyebrow. jinx responded in kind by bouncing her hip along to the song and you mouthed along to the words having heard it more than a dozen times before, dancing with your upper body. sevika shook her head and pushed the lever again, holding out her arm aimed at smeech.

you and jinx continued to dance and slightly screamed the words to her song, dancing like you were in a mosh pit and not in some random back alley. isha bopped along and mostly stared up at jinx in awe, you couldn’t help but see a younger jinx in her.

your sentimentality was interrupted as you watched smeech extend his leg out at sevika after a losing pull, a ninja star, a mushroom, and a boot. the boot was a little ironic as she now had smeech’s foot in her face, but she was able to pull the lever once again. this time, she got a dinosaur, a boxing glove, and a star. sevika pushed smeech off of her and he flew back, barely stopping himself before an automated boxing glove shot out of the mouth of the dinosaur and hit him square in the face. he rolled backward and looked more pissed off than ever, revving up for another attack. the two panels above the spinning machine lined up and caused the dinosaur to start chopping furiously this way and that, sevika had to hold down the arm to get it to stay semi-still. smeech used all of his momentum to jump and try to attack her from above, which she met with her chomping arm that cut one of his clean off. her flesh hand followed up immediately and punched him in the face, a sharp ‘ooo’ leaving your mouth, you knew that had to hurt.

the mouth dropped his arm and smeech stumbled back, blubbering out, “okay, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! there’s a deal to be struck here.”

sevika scoffed and curled her upper lip in disdain, “you forget smeech? you already made your last offer.”

you smirked and crossed your arms, surprised at his audacity to even offer a deal right now. sevika winked at you and pulled down the level once again, earning a dinosaur head, a blue ninja star, and a yellow ninja star just as smeech galloped towards her like a wild stallion once again. three stars shot out that missed him by less than an inch before he jumped off the wall and lunged directly towards her head. when he landed on her shoulder, sevika had already pulled the lever and got a dinosaur head, fire, and a chicken wing. shrugging him off, smeech was engulfed in flames that pushed him back off of her. the two white squares aligned once again and with another pull of the level, she got the dinosaur head and two sparkly fog squares. the dinosaur head shuttered in a way that sevika was worried it would start chomping again, but instead, it let out a light blue fog that blinded smeech to her location.

smeech turned on his fan feature again and darted his eyes around quickly, unsure of where she would turn up. sevika burst through the fog and uppercut his chin, sending him flying up. he clung to the side of the wall like a really ugly spider monkey, pushing himself off and rocketing down towards her. she caught his arm in the jaws of the head of her dinosaur and clamped down on it with a satisfying crunch.

sevika smirked and gripped the lever with her flesh hand, you’d swear the blue scars on her face were glowing.

“tell me, who’s a funny looking rat now?”

“he is!” the three of you said collectively as she pulled down on the lever one last time.

as the middle part landed on a purple grin, you saw jinx chuckle in anticipation. when the left one landed on the grin, isha nodded and braced herself. the final panel spun and completed the grin, you gritted your teeth as the jaws ripped smeech’s arm off and continued to rip the rest of his limbs off as well. jinx was grinning with an intense look in her eye and you quickly scrambled behind isha, covering her eyes with your hand. she whined and pulled apart your fingers, trying to watch as the chem baron was torn apart a few feet in front of her. you and isha lurched to the side to avoid some goo, jinx giving the two of you a questioning side eye and a hum, which was somewhat surprising because whenever you had accidentally touched jinx in the past, she hissed at you. maybe this kid was good for her after all.

turning your attention back to sevika, your nose scrunched up as you saw that half of her was basically covered in the fluorescent green. her arm played a happy little tune and shot a few fireworks into the air.

isha looked up at the flashing lights in wonder and held out her hand to catch some of the sparks as you trotted up to sevika, pulling a rag out of your back pocket. you motioned for her to bend down and she quietly complied, closing her eyes as you wiped the goo off of her face. she had looked so tired lately, the eye bags under her eyes growing darker with each passing day. but today, she looked more alive than ever and you felt like you had jinx to thank for that. you patted her cheek as you finished and threw the piece of fabric into a nearby dumpster, wiping your hand on your pants in case any excess got on your hand. she opened her eyes and puckered her lips, leaning in for a kiss. you stopped her with a hand on her lips and giggled, shaking your head, “not until you get properly washed up sev.”

she huffed and stood back up to her full height, clearly holding in a pout. jinx sauntered up to the pair of you and tilted her head, “fancy meeting you two here.”

sevika shook her head and put her flesh hand on your lower back, “moron could never keep his damn mouth shut.”

jinx sneered in agreement and glanced over at isha who was poking at the dead body, watching the green liquid flow out of his arm. jinx looked at the two of you in slightly confusion, her eyes landing on sevika, “you could’ve just let me eat it…”

“haven’t we done you enough favors,” the two of you said in tandem, a small smile gracing your lips.

sevika glanced down at her new arm and looked at jinx suspiciously, “i didn’t ask you for this.”

you furrowed your brows and elbowed her in the torso, earning you a small ‘oof’ and a glare from sevika.

jinx crossed her arms and admired her work, “it was something i could fix.” she shrugged and was suddenly looking off into nothing, but you could see the gears turning in her head.

“you’ve got that look in your eye again, what are you planning?” sevika asked and moved her arm up and around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her. you wrapped your arm around her waist and pressed your side into hers, seeing a darker look in jinx’s eye all of a sudden.

“to finish what’s left of my family,” she said somewhat ambiguously.

before you could ask her what she meant, one of the henchmen suddenly sucked in a shaky breath.

wait, he wasn’t a henchman.

sevika and jinx shared a look. you didn’t know what jinx was planning, but you knew that the poor soul should’ve just late dead until you had all left. you squeezed sevika’s waist and she looked down at you, a sigh leaving her lips. “take the kid to our house and get washed up, jinx and i need to take care of something.”

“be careful, both of you,” you said firmly, looking from sevika to jinx.

“yeah yeah yeah we will, just gotta send a little message to my sister.”

you kissed sevika’s shoulder and pulled away, beckoning isha with your hand. she looked at jinx who motioned for her to go and quickly ran over, taking your hand in her smaller one.

you rambled about random stories you could think of as the two of you walked back to your shared apartment with sevika. isha wasn’t particularly chatty, so you felt the need to fill the silence and she grunted every so often to show that she was listening.

opening the door, you stepped aside to let isha in first on her own time. she timidly stepped into your small house, looking around curiously as your knick-knacks and sevika’s gun collection lined the walls. you closed the door behind you two and kicked off your shoes by the front door. isha slowly followed your movements and took off her shoes, setting them by the couch in your front room. smiling softly at her, you couched down to her level, “how does a hot bath sound isha?” her eyes lit up in excitement, and nodded her head vigorously.

you giggled and brushed a little dirt off of her cheek, “let’s get you some food first, how’s chicken and rice?”

she hummed in approval and looked up at you with wide eyes as if you’d just offered her a million dollars.

“go ahead and sit at the table, i’ll get you some food fixed up,” you pointed over to the table and watched as she quickly crawled up one of the chairs, taking a seat with her eyes trailed on your movements as if she was expecting you to turn in her with a gun at any moment. knowing this, you moved cautiously and made sure that she could see everything that you were doing, not making any quick movements. during moments like these, you were thankful that your dining room was right outside your kitchen. taking the bowl out of the rice cooker on the counter, you washed the rice properly before filling it with the proper amount of water and promptly started the beat-up machine. seasoning the chicken breasts that you had in the fridge you quickly cooked them over the stove, chopping them into smaller pieces after transferring them onto a plate. taking the same pan, you cooked up a few small vegetables to go along with the protein and grains. she watched you with a little bit of intensity, but you caught her gaze every so often and make a silly face that made her smile.

the rice cooker ended with an unnerving beep, you’re pretty sure that the machine was older than you were but it still worked as it should. dishing up a bowl with rice, vegetables, and chopped-up chicken. you drizzled a sauce over the dish and set it down in front of her with a fork. serving up your own dish, you sat down next to her with a side glance. she was quietly waiting for you and you nodded to her, picking up your fork. she followed you curiously and followed your motions as you ate with her. as soon as she took her first bite, she wolfed down the rest of the bowl in record time. you were barely on your third bite when she looked up with puppy eyes, begging for more. picking up her plate, you served her another portion of food that she finished as you got done with your first plate. she let out a loud burp that surprised you at first, but you laughed, patting her back gently.

“c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” you said affectionately and led her to the bathroom. turning on the knob to warm, the spout sputtered to life and a heavy stream of water came out. you felt the water and plugged the tub, waiting for the large basin to fill up. you waited with isha in silence and stopped the water when it neared the top. you pointed out the different soaps to the little girl and she nodded along, taking off her hat and setting it on the counter.

“leave your clothes outside of the door and i’ll give them a quick wash. if you need any help, just yell- or uh knock on on of the walls, okay?” you smiled and opened the cabinets, leaving 2 towels on the counter for her. as you reached for the door, you suddenly felt isha hugging your thigh. you let out a ‘oh’ in surprise and put a hand on her back, softly cradling her into your body.

she hummed the pnemonics of ‘thank you’, pushing her face into your leg.

“you’re welcome. and don’t worry about those two, they’ll be back soon,” you reassured her and pet her hair back, feeling her nod against you.

leaving isha to her own devices, you went downstairs and prepped two more plates, covering them up to keep the food warm. you smiled to yourself as you heard isha splashing around, quietly going over to the bathroom and picking up up her clothes. you walked into the laundry room and gave them a deep scrub, honestly, you were worried that they would disintegrate in the soapy water. rinsing out the surprisingly bright clothes, you stuck them in the dryer on a delicate setting.

the clothes were dry in no time as you occupied yourself with reorganizing the cups in the cabinet... again. opening the dryer, you folded her clothes carefully and put them outside of the bathroom door, letting isha know with a small knock. you heard the front door open and close, followed by a muffled thud. peaking around the corner, you saw jinx’s braids hanging off the couch and the blanket that was draped over the edge of the couch was now pulled off. sevika let out an exhausted sigh, leaning back against the door with her eyes closed.

“dinner’s on the counter,” you called out and finished folding some stray clothes that were still in the laundry room. sevika hummed in response and trudged into the kitchen, grabbing a plate with a fork. she dropped off the food with the utensil on the coffee table in front of jinx with a grunt, receiving a small wave in acknowledgment.

taking off her arm and leaning it against the side of the door she slumped into a chair at the kitchen table after she grabbed her own plate on the way over. heading out of the laundry room, you saw isha padding across the floor and into the front room, most likely laying with jinx now. you smiled softly at the two, reminding you of jinx and vi when they were younger, before vander died of course. walking over to the table, you sat timidly in the chair next to sevika. you didn’t ask what she and jinx did, knowing it definitely had something to do with the one henchman who was still alive.

sevika finished her meal and set her fork down on her plate, licking her lips in satisfaction. she promptly picked up your hand and brought it up to her lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. you caressed her cheek with your other hand and brushed your thumb against the blue scars that almost looked purple in the dim light, your eyes darting back and forth between hers, looking for answers.

“jinx has a plan for vi and that little enforcer friend of hers, are you down?”

“always.”

a/n: it was so fun to write this scene for scene!!! i love this fight scene so much omfg... rereading this post act 2 def hurt el oh el!!!!!

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane sevika #sevika arcane #arcane jinx #jinx arcane #isha arcane #arcane isha #sevika x reader #reader x sevika #sevika fluff #arcane league of legends #strawberrykidneystone writes #strawberrykidneystone #sevika x gn reader #arcane season 2 part 1 #arcane fluff

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blaire-apricity · 2 months ago

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Groceries For Two

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ synopsis┆ : How does it feel to buy groceries with the boys?

ᯓ❅ ┆ tags┆ : short fiction, soft, fluff & possible OOC

──────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

Xavier would be the type to stay close to your side, quietly observing as you navigate the aisles. While you're eager to explore the entire supermarket, he's content to help push the trolley, ensuring your load is lighter. If you're lingering too long, he might find a single spot to stand in, his calm demeanor making it seem like he's part of the scenery—until you catch him dozing off while waiting. His main interest sparks when you approach the meat section, where he either gazes at the various cuts with quiet fascination or gestures for you to come and examine his finds.

. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Zayne would take a methodical approach, naturally steering you toward healthier options due to his medical background. He’d scrutinize ingredient labels with a professional's precision, occasionally raising an eyebrow at your snack selections. His firm stance on avoiding "unnecessary" indulgences would spark a few debates, but any mention of carrots—a personal dislike—would make him relent with a quiet grumble. Always prepared, he'd have a detailed grocery list in hand, meticulously checking off items while attempting to keep you from straying too far from the plan.

. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

Rafayel would be a lively companion, eagerly wandering the aisles while asking for directions on what to bring back to the cart. However, his independent streak means he'd also grab random items he finds interesting without bothering to consult you. When you're searching for something specific, he'd flash his irresistible charm at the staff, effortlessly persuading them to help locate the item—even if it’s tucked away in some obscure corner of the store. His energy and antics would make the trip anything but mundane.

. . ────────────── ❅ ⁺.

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬

Sylus would insist on pushing the trolley, especially if it’s loaded, using it as an excuse to take charge. Price tags? Irrelevant to him. Though grocery runs are a task his henchmen would typically handle, he sees the outing as an opportunity for quality time. He'd grab your favorite items without hesitation, planning ahead for when you’d inevitably crave them. Trailing behind you would be two of his men (Luke and Kieran), always at the ready. If something is out of stock, Sylus wouldn’t hesitate to dispatch them to other stores, ensuring you never need to part from his side during the trip.

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╰｡ Author's Note: Holidays are upcoming...! This week's the last for academics, and I'm quite excited to be able to spend more time either writing or mainly just gaming ahha. I do have a Christmas fiction in plan. I hope everyone would have a wonderful holidays!

╰｡ Tagging: . ݁˖ . ݁ @slitheringwaves . ݁˖ . ݁ @clairestella

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 3 months ago

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≡;-꒰ 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ kieran x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 (backlog)

tags : pwp (without plot), ambiguous relationship, dry humping, grinding, heavy petting, kissing and making out, vaginal sex, riding, praise, dirty talk, slight mocking, use of pet names "angel", "pretty" "miss hunter". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited))

wc : ~1.5k

an : a small thing queued for a HAAPPPYYYY NOVEMBERRRRR 🥰 i know my kieran bias is showing again but. THIS WAS ACTUALLY REQUESTED???? i was jumping for joy when i saw a kieran req in my inbox omfg 😭😭

taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

The party ends, and yet you can't keep your hands to yourselves.

You'd made many mistakes over the course of your life—some, then, including the ones you'd made tonight.

And the first was deciding to bring him along for your mission.

"Why me?"

His voice had taken a tone of firmly-set scorn the moment you'd brought it up. Despite the fact that his face had been obscured by the mask he so often worn, you could practically see the way his brows furrowed, anyway—in fact, he might as well have been rolling his eyes.

He didn't like being ordered around.

Not by you.

"Nothing, just… I thought you might want to come. If not, I'll just ask Luke or Sylus—"

Easy words.

He'd grabbed your hand in a heartbeat. Didn't say anything, didn't even shake his head. The action alone was enough.

You smiled.

"Okay. Tomorrow night at 9. Entrance of the Crown Plaza."

And it was simple enough, at least in your head. An invite, a request for direct aid… Sylus had grown fond of you; he wouldn't have minded you borrowing one of his henchmen…

But you hadn't calculated far enough.

That was your second mistake.

You should have known he wouldn't have made himself stand out any more than necessary by wearing his mask; you should have known he'd allow himself to blend in enough by matching the dress code as any guest would have. What else could you have expected him to do? Kieran was always thorough. Careful. If this was his brother accompanying you, things could have been different, but this was not Luke.

It was Kieran.

Kieran, who, despite not having the mask to conceal his expression, remained perfectly poised and perfectly calm. Kieran, who, despite being out of the comfort of his usual clothing, played exactly the part you'd required of him.

Kieran, who, as you walked up the steps into the venue, offered his arm for you to latch on to.

And you did.

That was your third mistake.

Not necessarily the first time you'd made it, and not necessarily an unfamiliar gesture for you to submit yourself to—but a mistake, nonetheless, at the reminder of how it felt like to be touched by him.

Looping your arm through his? That didn't last long.

He had his arm around your waist within minutes, drawing you to his side like—like you were his—

"You look pretty tonight, Miss Hunter."

He'd leaned down to whisper into your ear, and maybe it was the sound of his voice so close to you that made you shiver, or maybe it was the low tone he had—you were sure—purposely taken… or maybe it was the way he'd dared to place a slight, barely-there peck just behind the shell of your ear.

And then it was mistake, after mistake, after mistake, after mistake—

Until you'd be behind closed doors, and then there was no more getting out of anything that you had done tonight.

Not like this.

Not when you had him pressed against the couch, your dress riding up, legs dangling over his as you moved your hips against his crotch. Not a word was spoken, not yet—you were both too busy in the moment, lips melding together, tongues seeking purchase with the other. He would kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you, and you would barely pull back for air before you cupped his cheek and smashed your lips back against his.

And whenever it got like this, the longer it went on, the more he unraveled, the messier all this became.

When he breathed you in, his back arched right into you. Your hips didn't at all shy away from moving over the bulge in his pants, allowing it to shape against your underwear and have you moan into the kiss at the friction. His hands, too, slid down your sides in sensual caresses—anything to pull you closer, anything to simply feel you.

"Mmmh, fuck."

His voice was raspy, low. Every little bit of it made your body tingle with desire, that it almost made you feel a little ashamed of it.

This time, however, he really did pull away—panting, eyes practically glazed over, lips swollen.

You cherished the image of it.

Though you were quite sure you weren't in any better of a visual state, those flushed cheeks, the messy hair… He was heedy with want, and whatever ounce of self control he usually had felt long gone.

His hands rest upon the small of your back then, and the squeeze at your ass, pushing you back against him, had you gasping.

He smirked.

"Yeah, you like that? Huh?"

Again.

His hands controlled your movements, kneading the flesh, allowing you to drag along his slacks. This way, you could feel the way he throbbed beneath you, poking at your clothed slit, your thighs twitching around him.

He was impossible.

"Nnnnnh, Kie… No fair, we should just fuck already…"

Your moans turned into whines, pathetic little humps against his cock, your damp panties soaking the fabric of his pants.

"Ha, needy."

That goddamn smirk.

He was scoffing at you, despite the strain of his own arousal against the confines of his trousers. And as much as you treasured having to see his face like this, you almost wished for his mask to be back on—if only to save you from that satisfied, smug little smirk, eyes shamelessly falling upon your breasts as you moved.

"K-Kie…!" you whined, grinding on him harder.

"Nah, not yet. You're pretty like this, angel."

"But—!"

"No. Buts. I said what I said."

"Kieran—!"

He rolled his eyes and placed a finger to your swollen lips, and you nearly had half a mind to take it into your mouth. "Shhhhh. Why don't you get yourself off, hm? You're already so wet, anyway."

Each movement brought a slick noise to your ears, and his smirk grew. Your arousal made it easier to move—coating his slacks, what was previously a damp spot now having spread over your panties to have it cling to your folds. You could feel his cock twitch, grazing against your clit—he would angle his hips just to hit it right there, every rub against it pulling a gasp from you.

"Oh, pretty, look at you…"

He cooed, leaning into your ear. "Naughty angel you are. Did you plan this? Invite me here to see you in this dress, tempt me to take you right then and there?"

"N-no… Y-you just…!"

"Seems like it, though. Can feel how wet you are. I could slide right in…"

Your eyes closed as you groaned, falling against him.

He was all too happy to oblige—cradling you in his arms, rubbing soft, smooth circles over your back before sliding back down to grope at your ass.

"D'you want me to?" he laughed softly into your hair. "That badly?"

"Please… Please, Kie, please—"

He thrust upwards, beginning to match your pace.

"Good things," he hissed, "come to those… who… wai—"

You weren't about to take any more of his teasing if you could help it.

With a click of your tongue, you reached down to push your panties to the side, hands making quick work of his zipper—You didn't even pause to take a good look at him, thick and throbbing in your hand as you guided it to your entrance.

"Shut up," you huffed at him. "You're the one who's been teasing me the whole night! This was your plan!"

He raised an eyebrow, and he didn't appear the least bit apologetic. "Oh, really? My bad."

Impossible.

Even as you sank down on his length and clutched at his suit jacket, willing yourself to take all of him—to the brim—and you whimpered into his chest.

"Shit… shit… Feels good, angel, fuck—"

He tugged you up by your hair to meet his lips, and then his hands were at your waist, and he was bouncing you on his cock—relentless, merciless, whether to pay you back for your teasing or whether out of the sheet desire that had overtaken him with how much he'd been holding back… the sound of skin slapping against skin mixed in seamlessly with both of your moans, and your head clouded.

"Kieran… Kieran…!"

You gasped and cried out his name, swallowed only back into the way his lips were back to claiming your own, the very same way your walls wrapped tightly around his cock.

"Mmmmm, pretty angel… Just like that… gonna fuck you so good."

He was true to his words as he abruptly flipped you to the side, spread out on the couch, your legs brought up to rest on his shoulder. It was his turn to make quick work of your clothing this time. The straps of your dress pulled downwards, bunching the fabric up by your waist, bra unhooked and strewn to the side. And again, and again, and again, and again, he would fuck himself into you, purposefully, lustfully.

Hair clung to his forehead, clumps stuck together with sweat, and he let out another low moan.

This time, he leaned down to bury his face into your neck.

"I just can't get emough of you at all."

It was going to be a long night.

taglist! @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @ononpetitecroissant @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @love-and-deepstrays @theanbitchless @m2ichaelis @keioxo

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 days ago

Text

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, angst, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers.

“So what?”

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that.

Eyes wide open.

Mouth agape.

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides.

He seems anchored to the ground.

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable.

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff.

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days.

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out.

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room.

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone.

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning.

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl.

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.

"What?"

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest.

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you.

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance.

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well, news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you.

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”.

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration.

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.”

A pause and a sigh.

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening.

You smiled.

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling.

Until you heard something else.

A booming laugh.

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right.

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady.

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much?

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask.

But you know that crooked smile.

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work."

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background.

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you.

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him.

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool.

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck.

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties.

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him.

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times.

You tried twice without success.

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it.

You were in.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen.

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita.

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry.

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum.

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply.

Instead he comes closer and closer.

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one.

“Please,” he whispers.

“No.”

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...”

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you.

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore.

When your lips collide you let it happen.

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila.

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same.

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?”

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips.

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him.

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan.

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin.

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure.

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head.

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts.

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change.

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart.

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out.

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back.

You want him inside you.

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency.

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want.

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices.

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now.

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart.

“Fuck me,” you groan.

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?”

“Shut up,” you hiss.

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you”

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with.

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless.

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave.

You know you have to.

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts.

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times?

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts.

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul.

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?”

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist.

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #jolapenosdearuary #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x female reader #javier peña #narcos au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu #pedro pascal characters fanfiction

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brunchable · 3 months ago

Text

POV: You're sucked into your Fanfic - Part Two

《 The plot goes off the rails. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Writer!fReader

Themes: Comedy - Chaotic Duo (mainly y/n), breaking 4th wall. Fanfic Bucky meets his writer.

Summary: Y/N, now fully aware she’s in her fanfic, tries to navigate the villain’s role but is terrible at it. Y/N tries to sabotage one of the villain’s main plans but accidentally makes things worse.

A/N: Y/N is just a clown at this point LMAO.

tags: @winterslove1917 @zeeader @iamdedsthingz @hzdhrtss @almosttoopizza

@yiiiikesmish

You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re in your own fanfic, but now comes the hard part: pretending to be the villain you wrote, a role you’re quickly realizing you’re terrible at.

“I can do this,” you mutter to yourself as you pace around your lair—or, well, the lair you wrote. “I wrote the villain. I know how to be evil... right?”

The words sound hollow even to your own ears, but you try to psych yourself up. After all, you can’t be that bad at playing the character you created... right?

Wrong.

You freeze at a loud thud echoing through the room. Oh no. That’s probably Bucky—or maybe the rest of the Avengers—coming to crash this part of the story. You know what comes next: an epic confrontation, full of dramatic one-liners and battle-ready glares. A perfect opportunity for your villain character to show off her menacing charm.

Only problem? You’re about as menacing as a kitten wearing a cape.

You glance toward the entrance, heart racing. Okay, play it cool, you can pull this off.

But deep down, you’re still reeling from the last time you faced Bucky. You were supposed to be locked in a super high-tech Avengers prison, right? Yeah. That lasted a grand total of two hours, mostly because your minions—and you use the term very loosely—broke you out.

To be fair, you didn’t even know you had minions. You didn’t exactly plan for that when you wrote the story. But, apparently, your villain character does. And when they broke you out, it was less like a well-executed heist and more like a disorganized clown car unloading directly into a high-security facility.

Imagine the worst rescue you can think of. Now multiply it by ten, add three explosions that were definitely not supposed to happen, and you have a vague idea of how badly it went. There were henchmen tripping over each other, one of them got stuck in the ventilation shaft, and another one kept calling you "Supreme Evil Leader," which felt flattering but... also very awkward.

To make matters worse, Bucky—looking all intense and broody, because of course he does—caught up with you right as you were awkwardly sliding into the escape vehicle, and the confrontation? Oh, it was a mess.

You tried to give him a villainous speech about how “this isn’t over,” but it came out more like, “I’m... uh... not done here! Watch out!”

Then one of your minions set off a smoke bomb before anyone was ready, and you tripped over your own feet trying to make a dramatic exit. Classic villain move? Not quite. You barely made it out without face-planting.

So yeah. That’s where you’re at. This is round two, and you’re really hoping to do better this time.

Another thud echoes through the room. You swallow hard.

Okay, no more bumbling. This time, I’m going to deliver the villainous performance of a lifetime.

You scramble to the center of the room and try to remember what your villainous character would say. You did write this scene, after all. It’s just... harder to do it when you’re living it. Especially when you know Bucky is about to walk in, all brooding and muscle-y.

Maybe if I just stand here and look mysterious? That’s evil, right? Just stare into the distance like I’m plotting something dark.

As the door bursts open and Bucky strides in, guns blazing (literally, because of course he’s carrying), you raise a hand, attempting to look menacing. “Aha! Bucky Barnes... we meet again!”

He pauses mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “You’re... dramatic.”

Damn it! Why did I write such terrible dialogue?

You cringe internally, but you push on. “Yes, well... I’m a villain. That’s what we do, right? Be dramatic?”

He’s not buying it. “Is this supposed to scare me?” His tone is flat, his expression unreadable.

You fumble for a comeback. “I—I mean, of course! You should be terrified of my... evil...ness.” You gesture vaguely around the lair, hoping it looks more intimidating than it feels.

Bucky takes another step forward, his metal arm gleaming under the dim lighting. “You don’t seem very sure of yourself.”

Great.

“I’m very sure!” you snap, but even you don’t believe yourself. You can feel your composure slipping. This is not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to deliver a chilling monologue and strike fear into the heart of your enemies.

Instead, all you can think about is how Bucky’s muscles look even better in person.

Focus! You’re supposed to be evil! Stop mentally cataloging his biceps!

Bucky crosses his arms, clearly waiting for you to say something intimidating, but your brain is short-circuiting.

“Look,” you start, hoping to salvage the situation, “maybe we could just... skip the whole fighting thing? We’re all tired, right? How about we just, I don’t know, chat?”

He blinks, clearly confused. “Chat?”

“Yeah!” you nod enthusiastically, jumping on this new plan. “You know, talk it out. No need for violence. I’m sure we can... negotiate.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “You’re stalling again.”

“Stalling? Me? No way!” You laugh nervously. “Okay, fine, maybe a little. But in my defense, I wasn’t expecting you to look this... uh, intense.”

He steps closer, clearly not amused. “You’re the worst villain I’ve ever met.”

“How many times are you going to say that?,” you groan, throwing your hands up. “I didn’t ask for this! Well, technically I did because I wrote it, but now that I’m living it, it’s way harder than it seemed when I was typing it up, okay?”

Bucky stares at you, utterly confused, as you ramble. “You wrote what?”

“Never mind,” you mutter, waving him off. “The point is, being evil is exhausting, and I’m not cut out for it.”

Bucky looks at you like you’ve lost your mind—which, honestly, you probably have at this point. You’re clearly not doing a great job of selling the “evil mastermind” role.

“Okay,” you say, standing up straighter, trying one last time to get back into character. “You know what? Let’s forget all that. Let’s just get back on track, okay?”

You strike a dramatic pose, trying to regain some villainous dignity. “Behold, Bucky Barnes, for you will never escape my clutches! Mwahaha—”

Before you can even finish your half-hearted evil laugh, the ground beneath you starts shaking. You freeze.

“Oh no,” you whisper, realizing that you’ve accidentally triggered the next phase of your villain’s grand plan—which you totally forgot about.

The lair begins transforming around you, mechanical arms lowering from the ceiling, hidden weapons emerging from the walls.

What did I even write here? You try to remember, but it’s been too long, and you wrote so many twists and turns into this plot.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as the chaos unfolds. “This part of the plan?”

You wince. “Uh... yes? I mean, obviously.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You don’t even know what’s happening, do you?”

“Not... exactly,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s been a while since I wrote this, okay? But look, I’m sure it’ll all work out in my favor.”

Just then, a panel on the wall opens up, revealing a countdown timer with large, glowing red numbers. Your heart sinks. Oh no. Not the countdown!

Bucky notices the timer and shoots you a look. “What happens when that hits zero?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “Um, you’re not gonna like this, but... I think it triggers some sort of self-destruct sequence? Maybe. I’m not entirely sure.”

Bucky glares at you. “You think?”

“Look, I was going for high stakes when I wrote it, okay? I didn’t expect to actually be here!” you blurt out, throwing your hands up.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re a disaster.”

“I know! But it’s not my fault! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep your villain persona together when you’re staring at all this?” You gesture to him dramatically, feeling flustered. “You’re like... ripped.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by your sudden compliment. “Excuse me?”

“I said what I said!” you huff. “You’re ripped, and it’s distracting, okay?”

He shakes his head, still looking at you like you’re crazy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told that before,” you reply with a grin, trying to distract him while you figure out what to do next. “But seriously, can we stop the countdown? Because I really don’t want to blow up right now.”

Bucky takes a step forward, eyes narrowing. “Then stop playing around and fix this.”

You fumble for the control panel, desperately pressing buttons at random. The countdown speeds up, and you wince.

“Oh no, I think I made it worse.”

Bucky grabs your wrist, yanking you away from the panel. “Stop touching things if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“YOU TOLD ME TO FIX THIS!” you protest, but Bucky’s death glare shuts you up immediately. You shrink back, feeling the weight of his grip on your wrist as he pulls you away from the panel.

“You’re making it worse,” he growls, letting go of you. “Just… stand there and do nothing.”

You cross your arms, pouting. “Not my fault this whole thing’s a dumpster fire. I wrote it, but I didn’t think I’d have to live it.”

Bucky ignores your muttering as he works on the control panel, trying to figure out how to disable the countdown. You watch him for a moment, eyes trailing over his arms as they flex with every movement.

Focus, Y/N. Now’s not the time for ogling. Well… maybe just a little ogling.

"How are you so calm during all this?” you ask, hoping to break the tension—and maybe sneak in a little more flirting. “I mean, you’re literally disarming a self-destruct sequence with those gorgeous, dangerous hands of yours. It’s honestly distracting.”

Bucky doesn’t even look up, but you swear you see a flicker of a smirk. “You’re the one who set this off in the first place. Shouldn’t you be handling it?”

“Look, if you weren’t here being all Captain Broody and Muscles McGee, maybe I could think straight,” you snap back. “I can’t be held responsible for the chaos you create just by standing there.”

He finally glances at you, eyebrow raised. “You’re blaming me?”

“Well, yeah!” you say, gesturing wildly. “I was trying to be a villain, but have you seen yourself? How am I supposed to be evil when you look like you just stepped out of a superhero calendar?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, turning back to the control panel, but you catch a flicker of amusement in his expression. You might be bad at villainy, but at least you’re good at throwing him off.

You lean back against the wall, pretending to be casual as your heart pounds in your chest. “So... once we stop the countdown and we’re not blown to smithereens, what do you say we grab a drink? You know, to celebrate not dying.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Bucky mutters, still focused on the panel.

“I’ll stop talking when you stop being hot,” you fire back without missing a beat.

Bucky finally stops what he’s doing and looks at you, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Are you flirting with me right now? While we’re about to blow up?”

You give him a sheepish grin. “Hey, if we’re going down, might as well go out swinging. Or... flirting.”

“Unbelievable,” Bucky mutters under his breath before turning back to the countdown. With one final movement, he manages to disable the timer, and the red numbers blink out.

You let out a long breath, slumping in relief. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t entirely screw things up.”

Bucky stands up straight, glaring at you with his arms crossed. “You almost killed us.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” you say, flashing him a grin. “So technically, I saved us. You’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I prefer ‘charmingly chaotic,’” you reply with a wink. “But sure, impossible works too.”

Bucky shakes his head, clearly exasperated. “You’re lucky you didn’t blow up your own lair.”

“See? Lucky. I’m like a walking good luck charm,” you say, giving him a playful nudge. “So, about that drink—”

“Not happening,” he interrupts, cutting you off.

You sigh dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

Bucky steps closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. For a split second, you think he might actually be considering it. But then he says, “You still owe me for almost killing us. Get moving before I change my mind.”

You blink up at him, trying to ignore how flustered you feel. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a hero, you’re awfully grumpy.”

“And for someone who’s supposed to be a villain, you’re terrible at it,” he shoots back.

You can’t help but grin. “Fair point. But hey, I never said I was good at being bad. I’m more of a... chaotic neutral.”

Bucky shakes his head again and walks toward the door, clearly done with the conversation. “Let’s go. And try not to trigger another self-destruct sequence.”

Before you can even muster a comeback—probably something sarcastic about how it’s hard to be a villain when you’re distracted by muscles—you suddenly feel a strange tug, like someone’s yanking you backward by an invisible rope.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what—”

The room starts spinning. One second, you’re staring at Bucky’s very serious, very grumpy face, and the next, it feels like the entire lair is collapsing around you. Everything blurs together in a whirl of colors and lights.

“OH MY GOD, AM I DYING?!” you scream, arms flailing as you try to hold onto something, anything. But there’s nothing. Not even Bucky’s annoyed expression to anchor you.

For a brief, panicked moment, you’re convinced this is it. This is how you go out. Flung into the void for writing bad fanfiction. What a way to go.

Then, with a pop, you land face-first into... your bed.

You blink, completely disoriented. “Wait... what just happened?”

Your laptop sits open beside you, the fanfic document staring you in the face like it’s mocking you. Your head is spinning, your heart racing, and you slowly sit up, still convinced you might be hallucinating.

“No way...” you mutter, glancing around your bedroom, taking in the very non-evil surroundings. The smell of laundry detergent. The sound of traffic outside. Your cat, Felix, staring at you from the corner with a look that clearly says, What the hell was that?

“I’m... back?” You pat yourself down, making sure you’re all in one piece. No villain outfit, no lair, no brooding super-soldiers demanding you fix things. Just... reality.

It hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh my God, I got kicked out of my own fanfic.”

You collapse backward onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t even get to redeem myself! Or finish flirting with Bucky! Not that I was doing a good job, but still!”

Felix hops onto the bed and meows at you, completely unimpressed with your current existential crisis.

You groan, pulling the laptop onto your lap and staring at the screen. “Well... I guess this is better than being trapped in my own chaotic, terrible story. But man, I was so close to redeeming myself. Kinda.”

Felix bats at your laptop as if to remind you of your priorities.

“Fine, fine,” you mutter, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I guess I’ll just... write the rest of the story like a normal person.”

You pause, glancing at Felix. “Do you think Bucky misses me?”

Felix’s blank stare is the only response you get.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you sigh dramatically. “He probably doesn’t even remember me. I didn’t even get to finish my evil monologue.”

You sit up on your bed, still reeling from your sudden ejection from the fanfic world. Your brain is buzzing with one thought: I need to go back.

Sure, your villainous arc had gone off the rails, but you were so close to turning things around. And, let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want to try a redemption arc when it means more time with Bucky?

You rub your temples, staring at your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Okay, okay... maybe if I just... concentrate hard enough, I can get back in. That’s how it works, right?”

Felix watches you with his usual disapproving stare as you gather all the determination you can muster and lean in toward the laptop screen.

“Come on, just suck me back into the fanfic,” you mutter, inching closer to the screen, squinting at it as if somehow willing yourself back into the story would do the trick. “Please?”

Nothing.

You frown. “Alright, time for desperate measures.”

With a deep breath, you slam your forehead into the laptop screen.

Thud.

“Ow!” you yelp, clutching your head as Felix meows at you like, What is wrong with you?

“That didn’t work,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “Okay, let’s try something else.”

You get up, pacing back and forth. “What did I do last time? Maybe if I type something... yeah, that’s it! I’ll just type myself back in!”

You sit back down, hands flying over the keyboard as you try to rewrite yourself back into the fanfic.

“Y/N is sucked back into the story... um... gracefully and... with a cool villain pose!” you type, nodding to yourself. “Yeah, perfect.”

You press enter with a dramatic flourish and then wait.

...

Nothing happens.

You stare at the screen, blinking. “Okay, rude.”

Felix hops up onto the desk, flicking his tail in annoyance as if to say, Even I know this is a terrible plan.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumble at the cat, shaking your head. “Maybe it needs more drama.”

You jump up from your chair and dramatically yell, “I SUMMON THEE, FANFICTION WORLD! BRING ME BACK TO BUCKY!”

Felix stares at you, completely unimpressed.

Still nothing.

“Why is this so hard?” you groan, leaning over your laptop like you’re trying to psychically connect with it. “Come on, take me back! Just throw me back into the chaos! I’ll do better this time, I swear!”

In a fit of frustration, you try slapping the screen. Then gently caressing it. Then hugging the laptop like it’s some magical portal that just needs a little love.

Felix meows again, this time louder, as if to say, Seriously, stop embarrassing yourself.

“Fine!” you huff, letting go of the laptop. “Maybe I need to... I don’t know, meditate my way back in. Channel my inner villain.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “I am a powerful, misunderstood villainess. Bucky Barnes cannot resist my charm. Take me baaaaack...”

Silence.

Your eyes pop open and you look around. Still in your bedroom. Felix gives you an unimpressed side-eye.

“Ugh!” you groan, throwing yourself backward onto the bed in defeat. “I’m stuck here. Forever.”

Then, out of nowhere, your phone buzzes. You lazily grab it, fully prepared to ignore the world, when you see the time.

Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh no... I’m late for work!”

You leap off the bed, tossing Felix an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta go! Villainy will have to wait! Please don’t tell anyone how badly this went!”

In your panic, you nearly trip over your slippers as you rush to grab your bag and dash for the door, realizing that while you might have been kicked out of your fanfic, real life is waiting—and it doesn’t care how close you were to a redemption arc.

As you race to get ready, you can’t help but mumble to yourself, “I swear, next time I get sucked into a fanfic, I’m writing myself as the hero... and with a better wake-up plan.”

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amazinglyashy · 2 days ago

Text

"Sylus? A prankster? Get out of here-"

Pairings: Sylus x Reader, Luke and Kieran & Reader Summary: A short drabble about what goes on after all of the shady dealings, blackmail, and betrayal in the N109 zone. About how Sylus may have quickly discovered just how alike you are to the two henchmen he employs- and maybe, he isn't so different himself, either . Tags: Fluff, Pranks, Gender-neutral pronouns for Reader, Drabble Notes: I genuinely really love writing not just for Sylus, but a bit concerning the antics of Luke and Kieran. I might make some headcanon posts regarding the two of them soon actually, but we will see! Wordcount: 640

The problem was that Sylus had thought, against any sort of better judgement, really, that you were perhaps... similar to him.

He didn't think in the more obvious ways, no- he didn't think you would ever be a consistent player in black market dealings, he knew your idea of speeding was going maybe 15 over the limit at the max, and you definitely preferred nice cocktails over anything more simple like gin fizz or whiskey.

But he had thought you had a certain air of... maturity to you, that could match his own normally.

Well, you had proved him wrong.

Especially with Luke and Kieran.

He was honestly going to have to stop referring to them as the twins, and refer to the three of you as something more akin to the three musketeers.

It was a practically daily occurrence where he would wake up, and something, anything, would be out of place. Maybe the top three pairs of socks in his drawer were now mismatched, maybe the soaps in his shower were rearranged so his muscle memory would grab a bottle of conditioner instead of the shampoo and end up realizing only after he smoothed it across his damp hair. Nothing too big, but- little things.

And what made it worse, was that in joining those two little brats, you had effectively made the entire unit of you three better off. You were a horrible liar, but your brought not only a certain special brand of new ideas, but you also made it more difficult for Sylus himself.

See, he couldn't well punish the three of you with those sweet kitten eyes staring back at him if the three of you managed to get caught- and your involvement also was stirring up something... not quite new, per se. But something that had long since become dormant, and was so very rarely unearthed again throughout time.

And that was probably why you had found yourself putting on the wrong shoe on the wrong foot after visiting him occasionally, impulsively assuming that they had been left exactly how you had left them, too busy chatting with Kieran about something before you went on your way to notice ahead of time. Or maybe it was why you found your tongue turned purple in the mirror, stained such a goofily saturated color from something he had put in your portion of dinner set out at the table.

Of course, it took you a considerable amount of time to discover who was doing it- you had assumed Kieran had done it- or maybe Luke, out of revenge for not spending enough time with them, or because you had slighted them in some way. There was a small period of infighting between the three of you, before the dawning realization had come that- if it wasn't any of the three of you- who could it be...?

And while the three of you had all agreed on the same notion, that notion being that Sylus, the ruthless leader of Onychinus, did not play pranks, it was getting increasingly difficult to try and pin the blame on anyone else. Anyone else who worked for the man knew their place, or in better terms- wouldn't dare risk a silly prank directed at anyone who had a body count, or was closely associated with those with body counts.

It didn't take any of you long, however. To get past the initial disbelief-turned-shock about how Sylus was slowly joining in more and more in small little bouts of mischief- returning pranks that he received, or coming up with new ideas entirely- and start making even more of a game than it had been before. The four of you had a wonderful little game going on, and none of you seemed to want it to stop.

Not anytime soon, at least.

#.writey #love and deepspace #x reader #lads #lds #sylus x reader #luke and kieran #lds luke and kieran #love and deepspace luke #lds sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus

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natimiles · 17 days ago

Text

Merry (First) Christmas! (Sylus x reader)

Summary: Sylus never really cared about Christmas. Until you decided to decorate his house.

Words: 1671

Tags: fluffy; romance; domestic; established relationship.

Notes: I wrote this as a Christmas gift for @valkyyriia, and I decided to share it here now. So, even if I didn’t name reader, I wrote this keeping her and her OC in mind ;)

Sylus never really cared about Christmas. Not that he disliked it, but it was just an ordinary day for him. Sometimes, people invited him to grand parties or auctions during the season, but that was about it. For that reason, he never bothered with decorating either. Why would he, anyway? He was the leader of a criminal organization in the N109 Zone, his house also served as his headquarters, and he was sure no one cared about such trivial things.

He hears giggles as he enters his house. That soft, joy-filled sound could only be yours. You’d told him earlier you’d stop by, and he’s glad you actually made it. A small smile tugs at his lips at the thought of seeing you, but it quickly shifts to a dumbfounded expression when he steps into the living room. Boxes filled with tinsel, balls, and ornaments are scattered across the floor — red and silver, curiously matching his house’s decor. A large tree stands in the corner, right beside the wall where his guns are displayed.

Luke and Kieran, who were supposed to be working elsewhere, are there with you, trying to help you untangle a string of lights. Mephisto is also there, perched on the couch next to you, and the sight of the crow wearing a tiny Santa hat is odd, to say the least. Sylus’ red eyes quickly scan the room again, and he huffs, realizing how effortlessly you manage to bend even his henchmen to your will.

“I see you’re making yourself at home, sweetie,” he says in a teasing tone, his deep voice resonating through the living room.

You look up, and your face lights up when you see him. You spread your arms wide as you reply in an excited voice, “Hey, Sylus! We’re decorating for Christmas!”

“I can see that,” he smiles at you for a second, then turns to the other men and the crow in the room, raising a questioning eyebrow at them. “And why are you here?”

“She needed help!” the twins reply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Mephisto agrees with a “caw.”

Sylus appreciates when they keep you company or watch over you for him when he can’t, but he needs them to do their actual jobs. And, more importantly, he wants them gone so he can spend time alone with you. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing just enough to send them a clear message. The twins catch on quickly, their shoulders slumping as they lower their hands and drop the string of lights onto the floor.

“We need to go,” Luke says, sounding dejected.

“We have work to do,” Kieran adds in the same tone.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” you smile. “Thank you for your help, boys. I’ll make sure to add a little bonus to your gifts.”

This makes them perk up immediately, identical masked faces turning toward you at the same time. “Our gifts?”

“Yes. I bought gifts for everyone. I’ll place them under the tree so we can open them together on Christmas.”

“I see,” Kieran says, turning to his twin. “Well, we have to go now.”

“We have work to do, and we can’t disappoint Boss!” Luke adds.

Their tones are happier now, and the way they rush out of the room tells you that the idea of receiving gifts boosted their morale.

“You know they’re going to search your car and your things until they find the gifts, right?” Sylus comments, finally taking long strides into the room and stopping by your side.

“Yeah, I know.” You grab the string of lights and extend it to him to hold. “And you know you’ll be my decorating assistant now.”

“I know,” he repeats your answer, grabbing what you gave him and continuing the twins’ work of untangling the lights. “What inspired you to do... this?” His tone is genuinely curious, and you smile softly.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just thought it’s not something you’re used to doing, and since I’m spending my first holidays here with you, I thought it’d be something nice to do together.”

“Oh, so your plan was to make me help you all along?”

“Maybe,” you smirk. “I know you don’t like to waste time with boring and useless things, but…”

“This isn’t boring or useless,” he says, reaching for your face and gently holding your chin to tilt it upward. “Nothing I do with you is, sweetie.”

“Smooth,” you mumble, fighting to keep your cheeks from blushing, but you know you’ve lost the battle when he chuckles at you. “Okay, now let’s put this on the tree.”

The two of you have good synchronicity when working together, and decorating the tree is no different. You coordinate where most of the decorations go and how to place them, and Sylus listens attentively to follow your instructions — his tall stature being a great help for reaching the higher parts.

You smile and laugh, humming and singing Christmas songs. Sylus absorbs everything, engraving every single sound that comes out of your lips into his memory. He’ll make sure to learn all of them so he can sing with you.

You spin around with the tinsel, even daring to throw one around his shoulders as a playful gesture, and his lips curve into a soft smile that he only shows you. Something inside him warms up, something only you can, something that makes him want to do anything as long as it makes you smile at him.

He takes the tinsel off his shoulders and throws it onto yours, but he tugs at the ends, pulling you closer to him. You blink at him, and he lets out a soft laugh through his nose. His large hand reaches for your face, holding you as the most precious treasure in all the universes (and you are!). Red eyes lock with yours for a moment, and he leans in, his breath tickling your face. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, and he smiles at how trusting you’ve become with him before closing the gap between your lips. The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when you’re about to deepen it, you both hear a loud “caw.” You jolt away from him, completely forgetting that Mephisto was still in the room.

Sylus rolls his eyes, turning his gaze to the crow. “Get out already.”

Mephisto opens his wings wide and flies out of the room, letting out another “caw” on his way out.

“I… forgot he was still here,” you say sheepishly.

“That’s hardly a problem, but he’s gone now,” he says, his eyes returning to you. He reaches for the tinsel around you, pulling you back into his arms. “As we were saying…”

His lips are on yours again, and this time he doesn’t wait to deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth, drawing sighs from you. You throw your arms around his broad shoulders, your hand finding the hair at the nape of his neck and tangling in it. He kisses you again and again, softly and demanding, passionate and possessive, until you’re breathless and barely able to stand because your legs feel like jelly.

“We need... to finish the decorations...” You somehow find the strength inside you to stop the kisses when you get a break to breathe.

“Are you sure, sweetie?” His voice is deeper, dripping with sensuality and not-so-hidden intentions — and he knows it.

“Yes,” you mumble. You swallow hard, shifting your gaze to avoid falling into temptation again.

“Alright.” He gives you one last peck before taking a step back. “We can continue this later,” he says with a sly smile, and you feel the anticipation coursing through your veins.

A little while later, you’re finally done. You’re on the couch, his arm draped over you as you rest your head on his chest, admiring your work. The lights illuminate the room in an almost magical way, and even though you did your best to make everything match the aesthetic of his house, it’s still funny to see a Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

“It’s not that bad,” he comments, tilting his head to the side for a better look.

“Yes, it looks good. It feels like… home,” you lift your head to look at him.

“It does.” Sylus turns to you, his fingers gently caressing your face before his lips press a sweet peck to your forehead. “We can always ask the chef for a feast if you want the whole Christmas experience.”

“We can?” Your eyes instantly light up, and his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he smiles softly at you.

“Of course, sweetie. Anything you want.” He kisses your cheek and pulls you back to lie on his chest.

Sylus stares at everything with eager eyes and a warm heart. You teach him so much, and you don’t even realize it.

You once taught him about music, how to wear accessories, and what it feels like to love someone.

Now, this is another thing you’re teaching him, and that he’ll remember for all his life.

You’re quietly enjoying a cup of hot chocolate in the living room with Sylus, still admiring your efforts while he cleans his gun, when the front door opens with a loud bang. You jump, startled by the sudden noise. Hurried footsteps echo in the hallway, and suddenly two identical figures appear in the doorway. Boxes that were once wrapped are now open in their hands, and they make no effort to hide it. Instead, they rush toward you in sync.

“Miss!” They open their arms, ready to give you a big hug. “Thank you!”

Their arms barely touch you before they’re yanked away. They groan as they land carelessly on the floor, the misty black and red energy dissipating.

Sylus doesn’t even look up, just keeps cleaning his gun as if nothing happened, and you can only roll your eyes with an amused grin on your lips.

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#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads fanfics #lads writings #lads x reader #lads sylus x reader #lads #love and deepspace x reader

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islandofsages · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, I wanted to ask for the housewardens with a male!reader from their dorm that have the same name as the Seven's sidekicks (?).

Example : Cerberus for Idia, Diaval for Malleus, FlotSam for Azul, ect...

And people (*cough* Yuu *cough*) always compared the reader with the housewarden and always say things like : "oh yeah, the new Diaval and the new Maleficent.." *looking at Reader and Malleus talking about Briar Valley.*

characters: the housewardens x male reader

tags: platonic, fluff + crack, imagines + scenario format; yuu is there, mentions of ruggie and jack in leona's, mentions of the leech twins in azul's, mentions of jamil in kalim's, mentions of ortho in idia's, mentions of sebek in malleus'

warnings: nothing

author's notes: i tried to choose characters that aren't already inspirations for the characters in the game so some of them end up being from the second movie and stuff LOL sorry if this isnt what you want anon but honestly i did have a lot of fun writing this

Riddle Rosehearts — The King of Hearts

You’re not sure why and how but you’re dubbed as The King of Hearts of your dorm, alongside Riddle who is the Queen

Unsure of what to make of this, you ignore it and continue to devote yourself to the Queen just as any normal person would sorry this is kinda satire

Riddle is simply your friend. You cherish him a lot and you respect him and his beliefs. Even when he overblotted, your faith in him is unwavering

Speaking of the overblot, after the whole catastrophe, you’ve grown a lot closer with the other card soldiers, along with the magicless kid named Yuu and their pet (Grim was his name?)

They would greet you from time to time, stop by to have a chat when they’re free and check up on the dorm

One day, they made an offhand comment about you and Riddle

“You guys are paving the way for the new generation of the Queen of Hearts and the King of Hearts. Though, I guess the King of Hearts didn’t really do anything anyway.”

First of all, what the hell are you talking about?

Second of all, you’d say you contribute much to the dorm. For Yuu to assume such a thing for you simply because some “past King of Hearts” didn’t do so is ridiculous

You don’t voice these things out loud and shrug it off as them saying random things again, or making some kind of reference you don’t get

And because, third of all, you realize they broke rule 228: they definitely picked a rose in your garden. So you go to kick them out before Riddle could find out.

All in the day’s work for the King of Hearts.

Leona Kingscholar — Zira

You could say you and Leona are tight - maybe not Ruggie and Leona tight, but almost

And part of that can be attributed to the fact that you may or may not idolize Leona. But hey, it’s not strange. If Jack can do it, why can’t you? At least it’s not on Sebek’s level

Plus, you deserve to have some pride in yourself for being one of the only people Leona confidently calls a friend of his

Though, one person has been persistent about being Leona’s friend - Yuu, the person who just spawned out of nowhere apparently

You’d catch them talking to Leona sometimes and to be frank, there are times where Leona is less annoyed than usual at their presence

One day in particular, the three of you are hanging around Savanaclaw’s lounge, when Yuu drops a bombshell

“Ah yes, of course, you two are exactly like Scar and his creepily-devout follower, Zira.”

??? Yes, Zira is (a variation) of your name but you wouldn’t call yourself “creepily-devout”. Also, who even is Scar?

Leona’s ears twitch in annoyance, either because he doesn’t understand what Yuu means or that he’s put off by their phrasing

You sit in silence, deciding if this is a topic worth asking more about or not

Curiosity gets the best of you - you ask them. They basically dump all the information they could onto you

Yeah, you still don’t get it. But whoever this other Zira is, they’re kinda cool honestly.

Azul Ashengrotto — Morgan(a)

A lot of people consider you one of Azul’s henchmen alongside Jade and Floyd - God forbid working to the bone every day for the Mostro Lounge, right?

But you don’t take it as an insult. It’s no compliment to be so loyal to such a capitalistic bastard (said affectionately) but it’s just another part of your life

Plus. You’re friends with the dude. His cunning nature is what you’re here for

Maybe sometimes you feel a little inferior to him since everyone lauds him as some powerful mage but you tell yourself you don’t need such prestige

Though even outside of work, sometimes you see that Yuu person loiter around the Mostro Lounge in search of Azul (and the Leech siblings occasionally)

So you decide to sit down with them one day and have a nice little chat when-

“So you’re the Morgana dude right? You definitely give off the vibes. Let me guess: you have a love-hate relationship with your stronger, superior boss?”

You have to do a double take at what they just spouted - where are these assumptions coming from suddenly?

Also your name is Morgan.

They laugh and assure you it’s only a joke and a reference to a movie they like since Azul and you have an uncanny resemblance to the characters in that movie

Even still, you can’t help but feel confused… no way they just go up to people and reference things they enjoy right…?

You try to work on your vibes starting the very next day.

Kalim Al-Asim — Aladdin

You’re somewhat of an enabler for Kalim’s party animal and reckless tendencies which Jamil doesn’t really appreciate but also you don’t give a shit

Who can say no to free food and music? Well, a specific amount of people but you’re definitely not one of them

Kalim is friends with everyone; or rather, he considers everyone a friend and that considerately counts you too

But you two really are though - after the party’s died down, the two of you would chat late into the night about everything and anything. And it works because he’s such a good listener

At one of his many parties, the Yuu person who’s apparently from another world comes to party along with you

And so you eat and dance as one usually would under Kalim’s rule, learning bits of information about Yuu along the way

As per usual, the party dies down so you, Kalim and Yuu take the chance to relax and have a concrete conversation

At some point, Yuu comments on your name (and apparent namesake…?)

“Wait, so your name is Aladdin? Like the thief guy who fell in love with the Sultan’s daughter? Feels kinda weird since Kalim kinda reminds me of the Sultan himself…”

Well, yes, your name is Aladdin although you just tell people to call you Ali but everything else they just said is completely false

You all laugh it off because the mood is appropriate for an elaborate joke as such but the next day, when you think over the whole interaction, you have to wonder what was going on through their head at the time

You make a mental note to see if you’ll ever fall in love with a sultan’s daughter.

Vil Schoenheit — Raven

You’re a little intimidated by Vil but you have as much respect for him as anyone does

And somehow, you manage to gain his respect too, though you are a mere spudling…

You try not to let it get to your head (especially considering he has more respect for some other spuds than you) but it’s no easy feat to get a compliment from Vil Schoenheit himself

One person in particular has been getting a lot of attention from Vil lately, you’ve noticed

This Yuu person has been stopping by Pomefiore a lot lately, ever since the weird invasion at school where a bunch of robot people broke into the school grounds

You don’t question it because they’ve been interacting with Vil since the VDC but the thing is Yuu has been trying to get to know more of the dorm members

And one day, they get to you finally

They seem normal enough once you two sit down to chat in the lounge—

“Hm, so your name is Raven? I think I vaguely remember a raven being in Snow White…”

You have no idea what that means and before you could change the topic yourself, Yuu dismisses it; but then the next day, when you were thinking about the exchange again, you get curious as to what a Snow White is

So you start to scour the Internet for this “Snow White” and it manages to consume you for a few days until Yuu tells you that it’s just a movie from their world

You don’t talk to them for a few days.

Idia Shroud — Meg

You and the Shroud brothers are more like frenemies than anything - you three banter like old friends who know too much about each other

Other than Ortho, Idia does ask you for some favors a lot and you like joking that he’s drowning in debt when it comes to you

Sometimes he pays back by gaming with you, sometimes he pays with actual money. Good money at that. You don’t complain either way

One day you run another favor for him (which he promises more good money for) to send some stuff to Ramshackle

A person named Yuu and their only other dorm member Grim had sent stuff to Idia for repairing and maintenance - not that you care about the details. You’re just gonna get it over with

Once you reach their dorm, the first thing you’re met with are the two dorm members bickering over something. You chuckle; it reminds you of your conversations with Idia

You excuse yourself for interrupting and go to drop off their things on the table in the middle of the lounge

They stop bickering then and Yuu greets you momentarily before muttering something under their breath

“Of course the new Meg to the new Hades dropped off our stuff.”

You assume they don’t know that you heard what they said and quite frankly you don’t want to care much but you admit you’re a bit curious of what they mean

When you get back to Idia, you ask him to decipher that cryptic message

He admits he has no idea what they mean by that, simply tells you not to think about it and pays you with some good old cash - and some fun gaming time so you forget all about it later anyway.

Malleus Draconia — Diaval

You are one of Malleus’ loyal retainers - you were bestowed the honor of being his “wings” even whatever that means

But Malleus sees you as an equal almost. You are no servant and you have your own wings to tend to; it’s the stuff that would move Sebek to tears

You do see him as a friend mostly, even if at first you started doing so out of pity

But now you see him making more friends around campus and you can’t help but feel happy for and proud of him

There’s one friend who he seems to be around a lot - the magicless human named Yuu

It makes sense since he does enjoy taking walks around their dorm, even before they came to occupy it

One day, you three make the time to have tea together and simply talk. It’s all very pleasant when Yuu says-

“You know, don’t you think it’s weird how your name is Diaval and you’re serving someone who’s strangely reminiscent of Maleficent?”

Well, you don’t think it’s weird because you have no idea what they’re referencing and who Maleficent is - and Malleus seems to think the same, with the confused look on his face and all

Also as true as it is that you’re Malleus’ retainer, you don’t appreciate someone phrasing it as you “serving” him

Yuu apologizes for the comment and explains what they mean by it. You both still don’t get it but it’s enough to make you shrug it off

Sometimes Yuu would still make such comments, thinking you don’t hear it but knowing it’s not that deep, it doesn’t affect the three of you’s friendship whatsoever.

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crystallizedtwilight · 3 months ago

Text

🎃 LSBC Questions: Part 20! 🎃

Lock, Shock, Barrel, and Calliope questions that call for quick answers will be under the cut in batches of 10-15 🧡

Previous bulk questions batch

She wants to adopt every dog she meets honestly 🥹

If Oogie was in a gambling mood it usually wasn't a good thing.

Something equal parts dangerous and hilarious apparently! [x]

They already have their skincare routines down!

There's a couple of those in the lb tag 😚 Barrel is very romantic and Lock loves to be showered with affection as long as it's in private.

Thank you! And yes! They do prank each other on occasion. Gotta keep each other sharp! [1] [2] [3]

He did at first (and was too "cool" to tell anyone) but now he's an expert at capturing them.

Mike Cachuela, who helped design the trio, stated how he spoke with Henry Selik, the director of the movie, about who the trio could be. The initial concept was that that they were tasked with keeping Oogie Boogie imprisoned and feeding him bugs. However, this concept was later changed so the trio would be Oogie's henchmen instead.

No, all three of them love their natural hair colors! (Which, lucky, I've been dying my own hair for 10 years lol)

She gets up, makes herself some tea, and reads her potion book to clear her mind. If that's not enough, she'll go for a flight.

No. I'm aware he returns in several spinoffs—Oogie's Revenge, Kingdom Hearts II, one of the novels—but this AU uses the movie as the sole source material. Resurrecting Oogie is an easy way to reintroduce peril and doesn't require writers to explore who the trio are without him. That separation, freedom, happiness, and concept of the trio stepping into their own identities is exactly what I want to explore!

(Zero's Journey is my favorite tnbc book because the trio are shown carrying on happily without Oogie for once and I love that!)

❗️[SENSITIVE: TOPICS OF ABUSE]

The trio state that they believe they will be harmed for failure / displeasing Oogie across multiple media:

____

"We can't say, the boss'll whomp us if we do!" (whomp, verb: to strike heavily) - Lock [source: game, The Pumpkin King]

The trio tremble visibly at Oogie's feet, holding onto each other as he reveals his plans. [source: game, Kingdom Hearts I]

In an interview Stephen mentions that, out of the three of them, Oogie might be meanest towards Lock or treat him the worst. [source: Stephen Buckley, one of the main animators on the movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas]

"If I were on his Boogie list, I'd get out of town." / "We do our best to please him and stay on his good side." - Lock, Shock [source: movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas]

"Jack will beat us black and green." - Lock, Shock [source: movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas] Through Jack has never shown himself to be physically violent, the trio assume all authority figures show their displeasure in this way.

"Don't hurt us, Jack! She's with Oogie!" - Lock [source: game, The Pumpkin King]

"'Stead of treated we get tricked. 'Stead of kisses we get kicked!" [source: stage performance, 2003 Disneyland "Haunted Mansion Holiday" wherein the trio perform an excerpt of "Hard Knock Life"]

"Looks like my no-good henchmen thought they'd cool their heels in Halloween Town 'stead of helpin' the boss man do his job...well, I can decide which of 'em I want to eat later." - Oogie Boogie [source: game, Disney Magic Kingdoms]

The camera pans out, displaying the masks of several previously devoured trick-or-treaters on the treehouse walls. None of these fit the trio's faces, revealing that Oogie has eaten several children in the past. [source: movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas]

#tnbc bulk questions

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ambrosialdesire · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request yandere porco x reader who doesn't take him seriously/ isn't afraid of him or being bratty or whatever so he transforms to scare her

hellion

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 porco x fem!reader word count: 5.9k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, past + current human-trafficking/purchase mentions, forced feminization/infantilization, stockholm syndrome development, forced proximity, torture/violence mentions (choking, starvation, drowning, tying up), drugging (sedation), prey & predator vibes, kinda psychological horror?, humiliation, slight praise, degradation, slight gaslighting, kinda mindbreaky, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you were an impulse purchase that he never thought he'd make before, and although he doesn't regret it, he's having a difficult time trying to soothe your feisty spirit. who knew that all it took was one transformation and a chase you'll never forget? a/n: i'm gonna be so fr idk how to write bratty characters LOL i rarely read bratty readers in general so i'm really free-balling this 💀 kinda simple and to the point compared to my other fics, esp since i've never wrote for porco before so this is like testing the waters and most likely SUPER ooc. it's also more of a psychological fic since i'm not in the mood of writing complete nsfw haha but i hope you enjoyed this anon! sorry it also took so long to be done but then took me like three days to make and edit 😅 (i still think it's a little sloppy, esp the end BUT that's what anon questions are for so i can sorta explain and piece it together more lol) again, hope y'all enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

He hated when you got like this, putting up a constant nonsensical fight against him.

You'd be a perfect candidate to be his successor from the way you bite down into his skin when he tried to touch you, scratching up his face when he got too close, and always almost managing to slip through his grasp to dash towards the open basement door before he tugged the chain wrapped around your throat back towards him, watching you bare your teeth at him angrily. You were truly a wild animal, that's why he chose you in the first place.

Porco wanted to tame this wild spirit of yours, simply for the fact to see if he could.

Little progress was made, he made your purchase not long ago in the slums of Liberio, where the truly wicked and evil roamed to sell and purchase anything deemed illegal by the Marleyan government. As much as he refused to take these kinds of assignments, preferring to be back on the battlefield with Zeke and Pieck, Porco was already in deep waters for fighting with Reiner again. Not his fault that the Vice Captain's face was so punchable. Thus, here he was, being forced to shut one of the operations down that was said to involve a human-trafficking ring. Down he went alone in disguise, shuffling through the disgusting sweaty bodies of devil scum drooling over a piece of fresh meat on the stage.

He remembered got a good view of the bidding, eyeing each fearful chained-up person with boredom until you were pulled up. God, you really were the star of the stage. Two burly men had to tug your fighting body onto the crumbling wooden stage, a mixed sound of what could be a snarl and screech emerging through your cracked and bruised lips as you refused to move any further. You put up a good fight against the henchmen, the crowd jeering at the display of tug-o-war.

Once they managed to get you to the middle, the auctioneer started to ramble on about your pricing. Your hands may be wrapped in cloth and tied together, but the minute he neared you to show you off, you struck him with a mean uppercut, almost pouncing on him once he fell over before the two men held you back. Even then, you were thrashing around on your wounded feet, spitting out curses and howls at the fuckers beneath you, telling them that you'd hope they'd all burn and rot in hell.

He's the only one that snorted at that statement, feeling all eyes on him.

Porco really wasn't any different from those around him as he raised his hand up, offering over a thousand for the wild girl, more than what the other fucks around him could possibly afford. It won't make a dent in his bank account either because once he takes you home, the authorities would've already been called to the place. He gets to keep his money and you, while Marley gets rid of more scum; a two in one deal. You glared down at him, a burning fire settling deep within the darks of your pupils as he grinned back in return.

You were going to be a fun little purchase, that he's sure of.

He didn't really want to, but considering that you were a snappy little thing, you had to be down in the basement of his home until he managed to get your temper under control. The chain was long enough for you to reach the bathroom down there from the bed, but not long enough to reach the door. Once you managed to slightly calm down, realizing that your new "owner" was unfazed by your act as he leaned against the wall, you cautiously settled on the bed. You were still tense, unsure of what his intentions are.

"You got a name?" Porco started, finally breaking the silence as he crossed over his arms.

"You have my papers, don't you?" Your eyes squinted at him, the raspy retort coming quick out your mouth. He did, but he didn't bother looking at them just yet.

He scoffed, pushing himself off the wall, slowly stepping closer to you. "Snarky one, aren'tcha? Just tryna be a little civil here."

"Civility? Don't make me laugh. Buddy, you're the one that bought me. I think we both know that any sort of civility you had has been long gone the moment you raised your stinkin' fucking hand in the auction and brought me down here." If your temper wasn't enough indication of a need of reformation, your mouth definitely was.

"I'm surprised you even lasted that long in the slums with that tongue and attitude of yours, most would've been turned into chopped meat without even a second thought." You were about to say something back before he slammed his hand into your face, pushing your head into the bed and prying your mouth open with his fingers. A gurgle of a scream erupted out of your throat as you struggled to push him off you, but no dice.

"But I'm not like most. Me? I could crush your skull whenever I want, maybe slowly pull each of your limbs apart so you'll feel each tendon and ligament rip away from your sorry torso." Porco pushed harder until you got the message, silencing yourself as your face ached and throbbed from the pressure, yet your eyes still held that same vindictiveness from the auction that never seemed to quite be quenched. Your jaw abruptly closed around his fingers, a pained hiss slipping out of his lips as the pearly whites grinded into his skin.

He's going to relish seeing that light die from you, when you finally realize that he's the sole reason of your living, that you should've been grateful from the start that he's the one that bought you instead of the beer-gut ridden trash that wasted away in the slums.

Porco finally removed his hand out of your mouth, drool and teeth indentations staining his fingers. Light steam was coming off of them, the superficial wounds closing up. He knew you caught that, eyes focused on his hand.

"Now, get some rest. Training begins tomorrow."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

When he said training, he meant torture.

That's what you thought as you experienced every debilitating and humiliating ritual he forced onto you every day. You eventually learned his name because of someone saying it upstairs — God you wished that the floors above were as soundproof as the basement's walls— Porco, but you called him 'piggy' sometimes, despite him trying to train you into saying sir. Simple, but it got him irritated real fast.

Porco was a strange man, you knew he was definitely not like the other men you've came across in your imprisoned life. Every wound you made on his person, no matter how deep you curled your nails into him or bite down as hard as you possibly could, he was left unblemished. Not even a fading scar or lasting indent, it was as if you've never injured him in the first place.

He bled, the taste of iron familiar on your tastebuds, but it really was like nothing occurred after a few minutes. You knew that he healed fast too, that weird steam came out of the wounds right after you inflicted it from what you could see with the lantern light, but you don't know why it did. Were you so out of touch from the outside for so long that new medical advancements were made?

He also disappeared for short periods of time, leaving you occasionally starving if he didn't leave enough food beforehand and surprisingly bored; he was really your only company nowadays, so it was quite frustrating to come to the conclusion that you'd even miss the bastard despite the shit he's made you go through. Once Porco came back though, he'd be a little nicer to you but that would last for roughly a week once you gotten sick of his company again.

He only sedated you when he needed your complete compliance or when he deemed you too much, your head rolling around weakly as he undresses and bathes you with him in the tub, the heightened sensation of calloused hands brushing against every inch of your skin. You may be out of it, but every other sensation was magnified. It was the only peace the two of you got with each other, even if you weren't a truly willing participant.

Porco was also quiet when it came to this activity, the steam and heat of the tub creating a slight flush on his tanned cheeks as he leaned back against the porcelain. His normally gelled-back blond hair would be damp and falling over his face, expression lax. You thought he was on the completely lankier side before since you rarely see him without the green coat, but no, he was quite muscular despite being pretty slender.

It made sense, he's lifted and thrown you like you weighed absolutely nothing, holding you down without much struggle, and letting you exhaust yourself while he looked completely normal.

He seemed disinterested in each other's nudity, though you did notice the first few times when he started the bathing routine that he took in every little detail of your body, eyes wandering more than usual. It's not like you could've stopped him and he never touched you sexually, only touching your privates to clean those areas. You've accidentally let out a quietly hitched breath here and there when he brushed those digits of his in-between your pussy, your drugged mind struggling to comprehend the feeling. You believed that he never noticed during those mishaps, not bothered in the slightest during it but whenever he got out of the tub first, it was pretty obvious he'd be partially aroused.

You wouldn't say that you were completely innocent in the act of staring at the other either, you've spotted his cock more than a few times and were slightly internally glad that he never took it for a spin against you. He must be a show-er more than a grower (if he was any lengthier hard, you might be in trouble), but he was notably bigger than the other disgusting men you've came across. Thank god for that, at least. It was finally nice looking at a man that wasn't built like a water buffalo in denial of balding and having the smallest dick around.

As time passed by, you feel like you confirmed your suspicions that he never really was interested in using you for any sexual needs, he was more into seeing how much it would take for you to break. Maybe he's done this to others to get his rocks off, but you'd never give into the sick man's perversions.

One thing that was prominent you've noticed while in his care was that he rarely made you do anything by yourself. He's the one that fed you with you on his lap, clothed you in stupidly feminine outfits from the start of the day to the night, bathed you alongside him. He cleaned and dressed any wounds you inflicted on yourself, but left surface scratches and bruises alone. Porco was in complete control and if you didn't let him take the reins, that's when the punishments rolled in.

Balancing books on your head as you stood on your tiptoes, if any of them fell or if you went back on your heels, he'd hit the back of your calves hard with a riding crop and restart the entire thing. Forcing your head over a bucket of freezing cold water, asking you difficult questions with no right answers to them, and pushing you down into it when you said anything that he didn't want to hear. He choked you out and left you intentionally starved for days when you refused to eat what he made, tied up and blindfolded in a tight closet with no indication of how long time had passed because you didn't want to wear what he chose, anything to ensure that you've learned your lesson.

You didn't, of course you never did. Whenever he asked if you had enough, you only just laughed at him and spat at his face, the punishments only ending once he got tired of it. Your stubborn attitude was the only thing keeping you sane in this world of yours.

No matter how much you were forced to endure endless embarrassment and shame, you'll never grovel or beg for mercy, not even shedding a tear for the agonizing pain you felt as you laid on the scratchy mattress every night. And besides, he wasn't the only one who tried and he most certainly would be the last once you figured out how to get out of here.

You felt a jab to your stomach, abruptly waking you from your short rest. The lights weren't even turned on, but even you knew that the next horrid day has just begun, a flashlight blinding you next.

"Morning sweetheart, you know what time it is? It's 3 in the morning, nice and early for our next session. Are you going to be good and let me put your outfit on?" The nicknames only started a few weeks ago, just because you were being obedient and compliant to his demands. It's to make you feel nice, to think that's what you should be doing to get on his good side.

Fuck, he's really insane.

Obviously since you were completely exhausted, you might as well let him take control again until you regained more strength. You nodded slowly, rubbing your eyes as he finally moved the light off of your eyes. He murmured something of a praise, stroking your head gently before going upstairs to retrieve the outfit. You sat there in silence, partially nodding off until you heard his footsteps near the door, body slightly stiffening.

You may not be outwardly afraid of him, but unconsciously, he made you become unintentionally afraid of the new fucked up punishments that he created. At a certain point in this life, it was undeniable not be terrified of something unexpected.

"A friend recommended this new place for women clothes since she noticed I've been in a good mood lately." Porco pushed the door open, a light pink babydoll dress in his hands. "Ain't it nice? Might be better than all the other ones I've put you in, the seamstress really has outdone herself, don't you think sweetie?"

Everything about it looked too short, ruffles and lace making most of the skirt and the sleeves overtly puffy. He may think he's putting you into something cute, but it was obviously something uncomfortable to wear. It's intentionally supposed to make you tick, you knew it was.

"It's..." You started, thinking about how to go around this without sounding offensive. "Pink."

He frowned, obviously expecting more from you but simply shook his head. Alright, that was a somewhat valid response.

"Still tired huh? Yes, most of your clothes are pink, but this one," He placed the dress next to you, along with the undergarments and shoes. "This one is for a special occasion."

Special occasion? A year must've already passed by since he purchased you, it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was celebrating that. You lifted your arms up and let him remove your nightgown, leaving you only in your underwear. Porco removed the dress from the hanger, turning towards you and pulling the dress over your head and arms, organizing it properly over your body.

Definitely too small now that you were wearing it, the bands around the arms making it feel like you were gonna lose circulation on them and your breasts nearly spilling out of the top of the dress, no matter how much he was adjusting it. The skirt was also way too revealing, just barely covering your panties but he soon tugged those off, putting on an even more scantily clad pair. He brushed out your hair, taking a few pieces and attaching a bow with it behind your head. The shoes were just simply white flats, the only part of the outfit that you had no problem with.

"There. Such a beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree?"

He cooed as he stood you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pulling off the drape that covered the mirror. You weren't allowed to use the mirror, that was what he said as one of the rules way back then. You didn't know why he asked that of you, but you've never seen yourself in years anyways, the details of your appearance foggy in each glimpse of a reflecting surface. The basement was dark too, the only sources of light being the flashlight or lanterns that Porco brings down here to see you. But this?

This was the first time you truly felt horrified at anything, bruises of varying colors littering around your skin, most prominently around your neck. You looked sickly, a pale complexion covering your skin, and bone-dead tired, eyebags weighing under your lower eyelids heavily. The only thing that looked decent on you was your brushed out hair and dress, despite how it squeezed at your almost feeble body.

"What... what did you do to me?" Your hands went over your face, feeling your very soul crumple into itself.

Porco snorted, his hand wrapping around your jaw and forcing you to look at the reflection. "Nothing. This is you, all you. The only thing I've done is the bruises but everything else is your fault."

You pushed him back, his body hitting the wooden door with a thud. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes since the first time in forever as you balled your fists at your side. You started wailing, curses slipping through your lips.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

"Y/N—" His tone was becoming angry, a warning.

Porco never said your name before.

You took off one of the flats and quickly threw it hard at the mirror, multiple fragments shattering off the wall. You grabbed the biggest piece that landed on the ground, feeling the palm of your hand cut open, warm blood spilling down your fingertips. Without a second thought, you lunged at your captor. Porco was stronger as he stopped you midway of your attack, but his hands slipped from the grip he had on your bloody hands and wrists, it was almost unnoticeable but not to you.

With the little strength you had left, you gave it your all, letting out a wrathful shriek as you jabbed the piece into his stomach, twisting it in as deeply as you could.

The world fell silent as you watched his blood seep through his shirt.

This was the first time you've looked into his eyes in the light and this close in general, the hazel color showing nothing but displeasure. You heaved slowly, taking in shaky breaths through your nose. Slowly, you released the shard and backed away from his still-standing body, the chain connected to you rattling along on the stony ground with your movements. Your eyes were still locked onto him, impatiently waiting for him to collapse so you can take the key out of his dying cold body.

Yet, that didn't happen.

"You're fucking pathetic, stupid even." Porco's hand reached for the mirror shard embedded in his gut, pulling it out with a slight hiss, as if it was nothing but a splinter. "If only, just only, you remembered that I can heal from any wound that your dumbass places on me, we wouldn't have this issue but I guess I gave your slow little brain one too many hits."

The steam was coming off of him again as he threw the bloody shard pack into the broken pile, your teeth baring at him.

"What the hell are you? Some kind of monster?" He laughed, pushing his hair back with blood, the red mixing in with the dark blond.

"Worse," Porco charged at you with inhumane speed, grabbing your throat and lifting you up in the air with one hand, your hands clawing at his forearm as black spots began to form in your vision. "I'm one of the worst monsters of them all. A Titan."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

You awoke to find yourself in a forest.

Originally, you thought you died. It's been years since you've last seen the outside, even felt the wind's breeze go against your face and feel the rising sun's rays warm up your skin. Yet, as you opened your eyes, you reached out to the grass, feeling the smooth blades brush up against your fingers, you knew you were still alive.

Sitting up, you slowly took in the surrounding environment. Did Porco abandon you because he thought you were dead? A giddy feeling rose up from within, excited about the possibility of finally, finally having the freedom that you've desired for so long. You wobbly stood up, realizing that you were still in the outfit he made you wear, now stained with dried blood. Ugh, at least he should've had the decency to put you back in rags or something before dumping your 'corpse'.

How far were you from the nearest civilization? You'd be lucky if you managed to come across one before either dying of dehydration or starvation, hoping you'd run into an Eldian internment zone rather than a major Marleyan city. Maybe even dying here in the wilderness would be a better death than being around people again, considering that all of them would just disappoint you once more.

There was a sound of grass crunching, small branches breaking from behind you as footsteps drew closer.

"Awake aren't we?" Fuck. You turned around, seeing him standing back at a distance, still wearing his bloody clothes.

"I wish I wasn't now that I know you're here piggy. Goddamnit, why didn't you just fall over and die when I stabbed you?" You grumbled the last half, tugging at the bottom of the skirt dejectedly. From afar, you could imagine that his eyebrow was twitching in irritation once you mentioned the nickname.

"You're so annoying, you know that? It's been a year and no matter what I do to you, you still persist. Still convincing yourself that you can't be broken. You've really ran me dry to figure out what I can do to make that pretty little head internally pop, well, I got one more thing that'll make you finally listen to me." Porco fished out a small pocket knife out of his jacket, holding out his palm for you to see before he sliced the middle of it, blood immediately gushing out.

"I'll give you a 15 minute head start, timer starts when I transform. If you can hide or outrun me, I'll let you go free. No catches, you'll simply be free to walk among us again. But if I find and catch you," A cocky smile grew on his face, pointing the knife down at you. "You're going back to the fucking basement."

Wait. What does he mean by transform?

A flash of blinding lightning appeared abruptly right in front of you, gusts of wind nearly knocking you over. You covered your face to try and shield yourself from the sudden weather change onslaught, the sound of something crunching forming loud in your ears. The light finally faded away after a few minutes gone by, a huge shadow hovering over you instead. Hesitantly, you peered up out of your arms and gaped in horror as you stared at the monster in front of you.

Where Porco once stood, a bony skull-like faced Titan stood before you on all fours, a mane of familiar blonde hair wrapping around its head like a lion. It had a shorter and muscular stature than most Titans you've seen in books before your kidnapping, still towering over you but not as much as a normal Titan would. White-tipped claws on each of its digits were prominent on both its hands and feet, digging into the soft grassy ground beneath it.

What the fuck? What the fuck?! Your captor was the Jaw Titan user the entire time? Is that why he disappeared every now and then? Holy shit, you knew what the Jaw Titan user's dick looks like.

Its small hazel eyes glared down at you through the skull-like mask and you felt frozen to the spot, too afraid to make any move. Was he even still in control of himself in there? A guttural growl came out of it then, snapping you out of it.

Porco's waiting for you to move, he... he wants to chase you down. You have no other choice, and you'd rather put up another fight than to lay down belly-up.

You took off the other flat that still remained on your foot and threw it at the face of the creature, soon dashing as quickly as possible into the lush forest. In your head, you knew your outfit was going to be an immediate sore thumb in the surrounding greens and browns so you started to rip it apart as you ran, trying to scatter the pieces as much as you possibly could to throw off the trail. All you were left in was your thin underwear and even that was a risk to keep on, but it was all you had left to preserve the dignity you were barely holding onto.

As you ran, you felt every stray branch dig into your already-damaged skin and every breath you took in felt like needles in your nostrils. It was better than nothing, better than getting immediately caught by that thing. You don't know how much time has passed since you started running, all you knew was that you must've wasted precious seconds when you gawked at the atrocity of a Titan.

There was a whipping sound and then a thud, trees cracking and breaking behind you. The echo of birds flapping away from the source, cawing in alarm rang loudly in your ears and you felt immediate dread crawl up your spine. Your head start was up, he's coming.

You still ran as fast as you could despite the burning in your underused muscles, trying to find somewhere decent to hide in. An overgrowth, a bush, anything at this point. The sounds of whipping and cracking were getting closer and closer, panic bubbling in your stomach until you missed a step, falling over and knocking the wind out of yourself.

You cried out as quietly as possible once you got air back in your lungs, slowly sitting up with damp dirt clinging onto your bare skin. Taking a glance at the ledge you fell from, an idea popped in your mind. Underneath, it was wide enough to fit your body and deep enough for you to hide in, so long as you could cover yourself up with leaves and dirt. The sound of a gurgling snarl close by meant that you had little time to put your plan into action, and you grabbed the nearby shrubbery in handfuls, crawling into the space as fast as you could.

Laying on your back, your place the gathered materials on your body, completely covered from head to toe. You didn't know how it looked on the outside, but it had to be something that could be overlooked when he was searching around. It had to be because you were not going back, you refused to.

The close rumble of the ground almost had you scream out in terror, but you put your hands over your mouth as tightly as you could, your breaths shaky out of your nose. The thuds grew closer and closer, body jumping with each passing step, and then it stilled. You could slightly see what was going on outside, heart dropping when you immediately spotted him.

The Titan was just standing there, completely still besides his head moving around to scan the area. He must've figured out that your clothing trail had gone cold or that it was fake the entire time, but the one thing you knew was that he was quick to catch up either way. A hissing sound, almost sizzling, broke the silence. You watched as Porco's original body appear out of the creature's upper back, right near the neck.

What. The. Hell.

"You're here, aren't you?" His voice was calm, no hint of frustration or irritation. Porco had too much pride to proven wrong, he was confident that he tracked you in the right spot and you hate that he was correctly onto you.

"Your footsteps stopped not too far from here, y'know. You tryna hide now? Ran out of stamina? Twisted your ankle?"

You clenched your eyes tightly together, praying that he'll give up, that he won't find you. Never in your wretched life have prayed before, but you'd start worshipping the very god that'll manage to make sure that Porco won't look in this shallow cavern.

"Fine. If you don't want to reveal yourself—"

There was another sizzling sound, your eyes opening and seeing that he went back into the body, the creature beginning to move once more. The Titan then opened its bony maw, revealing a second pair of sharper teeth before an ear-bursting screech projected out of it, your hands shooting to your ears to try and cancel out the horrid sound. The scream kept wailing aloud like a never-ending storm alarm, your head beginning to ache. It felt like it was going to pop the longer it went on, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Silence.

There was a slight ringing in your ears, but the screaming was gone and when you looked out of your hidey-hole, he was no longer standing there. Did he actually give up? You stayed still in the divot, head throbbing and heart pounding against your ribcage. You'll even wait until the next morning if it meant for any kind of confirmation that he was gone.

Suddenly, a claw came down on the roof of your cavern, the sharp tips just barely missing your body. It ripped away the dirt and rock, the sunlight blinding you as you sputtered out the pieces that came down on your face from the removal. Complete fear radiated off your expression as its unnerving mask stared down at your trembling form. You... lost.

You think that its — his — eyes were gleaming with glee right now, seeing how pitiful you looked, filthy and damaged. His hand reached for you, body stiffening as the fingers curled around you, picking you out of the hole carefully. The body of the Titan slumped down and the same hissing sound came out of the back of it, Porco reappearing once more.

"Took me only 30 minutes to find you, what a pathetic attempt of a run," He insulted, leaning his body over the fuzzy head of the creature. "Though, I will have to give props to you with the hiding. I wouldn't have spotted you until you moved in the hole from the scream."

"P-please... make this th... thing stop touching me." You almost whispered, the coldness and rough texture of its grip tight around your body. You hated that you were directly forced to stare at it, its eyes blank but still glaring deep within your soul.

"You afraid of it? You scared of the big bad Titan?" Porco taunted, his arm slightly moving and the grip tightening around you even more. You let out a strangled cry, your breathing becoming erratic. The feeling of the jagged bones jutting into your flesh like squeezing a balloon to its limit, the imagery of your organs bursting out of you, began to make you hysterical.

"Please s-st... stop! P-please! I... I don't want to die! Porco, I'm begging you! Get me out!" You started sobbing, blobs of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hated him, but you hated this monster even more. To think that they were truly real, a true threat to your fragile existence, it was something that was horrifyingly difficult to mentally process.

Porco gawked at your sniveling body, not even trying to wiggle out of the Jaw Titan's hand but still crying out to him for his help. This is what he wanted right? To see you completely give up, to depend on his assistance, to save you. He felt so fuzzy and dizzy on the feeling, almost like he drank too much liquor. Just to play around with you a little more, his hand twitched, causing the Titan to squeeze you even more.

You screamed out in fear once the pressure got even more narrow, your cries resonating louder within the deep forest as you simultaneously begged him to stop. Aw, how adorable but alright, he's had his fun for the day. This might've gotten the message across, let's see how long it'll last or else he'll have to do this again and again if he had to.

"Will you finally listen to me?" He finally spoke up, your teary eyes immediately meeting his and nodding furiously without hesitation.

"Yes! Y-yes I will!"

"And what do I want to hear from you?" You sniffled, looking completely drained of all fight.

"I-I'm sorry... s... s-sir. I wo... won't ever do i-it again."

Porco thought he never felt such euphoria in his life until he heard your apology, a wickedly proud grin growing on his face. He pulled himself out of the Jaw Titan's back, watching the creature start to steam and deflate as he reached for you, peeling its fingers off of your body and helping you down. Unexpectedly, you latched onto Porco once you got on the ground, your arms wrapped around him tightly in a vice hug. You... never did that before.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You repeated over and over again, your tears wetting his coat. "I won't fight you again, I-I promise sir."

His hand reached over to your head, light stroking the tangled strands as you trembled against his body. "That's what you get for being a bitchy brat, you don't want me to do it again right?"

You shook your head in response, gripping onto his clothes even tighter at the thought of being chased by that thing again.

"Then you gotta listen to me better, okay? You listen, no Titan. And now that I'm reminded of your bad manners, you've torn up that pretty dress of yours earlier. That wasn't cheap, you ungrateful bitch. How are you going to make it up to me?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Worry began to fill up your still-teary expression as you pulled your face out of his shoulder. You were taking every insult with a grain of salt, dismissing them completely. "I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, sir."

Porco really wasn't any different from the devil nuisances down in the slums, an excited shiver going through his system. If you're really offering anything, then he might as well get what he deserved out of you, he's been waiting a year for it after all. He lifted your face with one hand, rubbing away a smudge of dirt off of your skin with his thumb.

"We'll discuss what you can do about it later. Now, let's go home and get ourselves cleaned up, you smell like mud and look like shit." Another apology slipped through your lips as he moved forward with your hand in his, the corners of his mouth curling upwards with pure joy.

The animal within you has become neutralized, the flame dying and being left behind with the fading Titan behind the two of you.

Porco finally got what he paid for.

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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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Day 2: Cut Your Wings || Alfie Solomons x Reader

Requested by a lovely Anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- cut, dubcon, blood, inflected pain, masturbation?, enemies with sexual tension, canonical violence, dirty talk, sexual torture, kidnapping

Words: 2K

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. Also this one ain't as smutty as I thought because I got carried away by the narrative?? Shark please, that ain't the goal of Kinktober??

A grunt escaped from your lips as you desperately tried to free yourself from the heavy shackles imprisoning your wrists. You moved them back and forth, then left and right, turning your hands in every position possible, and yet nothing worked. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip from them. Another painful moan echoed in the damp and dark room of the distillery in which the jew's henchmen had locked you a few hours ago. The cold metal bit your flesh again. "Fuck". When loud footsteps resounded behind the heavy wooden door of your prison, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and prayed to God for a quick and painless death because you knew that Alfie Solomons wasn't a forgiving man. Quite the contrary, his quick temper, and frightening antics only fueled his reputation as one of the most dangerous criminals in London.

"So that's the fucking little rat my men told me about." He stated, standing in the middle of the open door, both of his hands resting on the handle of his cane and a black hat hiding one of his hazel gray eyes.

"Fuck you, fucking cunt! When Tommy will know about this y'all going to regret it!" Words passed your thoughts, spitting their venom at him and yet the man remained silent. You even wondered if he had paid attention to what you just said or if the voices in his head were louder than yours. His gaze, intense and unfathomable, was observing you attentively as if he was trying to decipher the secrets of the most unique precious stone he had even held in his palm. After what seemed to be an eternity, Alfie Solomons pursued his lips, stroked his scruffy beard, and nodded, coming to an agreement with himself.

"See, my mates here told me that Tommy Shelby had sent a few men to London, but here's the problem – He said 'men'. And not 'little girl', which is definitely what you are. A bloody and nosey little girl. Hmhm." He agreed with his own statement before walking to the dusty furniture that was leaning against one of the brick walls. Then, he took off his hat and his long dark coat, and put the cane aside before walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, tattooed arms crossed on his muscular chest. The unusual amount of greenish ink deeply engraved in his skin caught your attention for a short while, you curiously observing the pattern it formed. Of course, both Tommy and Arthur had tattoos, but not as many as the mad baker.

"Would you look at ya. Haven't you something else to do instead of following a Birmingham scumbag's orders? Like finding yourself a man or something like this, y'know. 'Cause I don't see why such a young lass like ya puts her own life into danger for Tommy fucking Shelby." As he talked, Alfie had closed the distance between you and him. He was now leaning above you, so close that his scorching breath was fanning over your skin and the hairs of his beard were almost tickling your face. "So can you tell me why? The only reason I see is that Tommy Shelby sticks his cock in you and it has magically bred some loyalty." The right corner of his full lips curled into a mocking grin when he noticed how his words had lit a fire of rage in your eyes. Bang on, he thought, "No. It's more complex than that, innit? He doesn't want you and yet you remained devoted to him in the hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you differently. He'd look at you like a woman to fuck senseless and not a pawn of his game."

"Kill me, Solomons. Kill me now or I'll fucking cut you once I'll be out of this shit-stinking place." You hissed, baring your teeth like a cornered animal, the truth hurting you more than a gunwound. For a split second, Alfie swore you would have dug your fangs into his throat, sinking them deep until you tasted blood if you hadn't been restrained by chains and handcuffs.

"Cut me?" The baker repeated these two words, pretending to be surprised while the tone in his voice betrayed how amused he was, "And what kind of tool would you use to cut me? This?" As he said so, Alfie pulled your grey beret out of the large pocket of his trousers, holding it to have a good grip at the base of the razor blades that were sewn to the fabric. "You Peaky girl like to cut people with this right? So come on, threaten me again little bird, I dare you." He said with both of his eyebrows raised in a taunting expression.

"D'ya think you're scaring me? I'm not scared, I'm a Peaky Blinder and I'm going to make things clear again: you better kill me now because if you miss this chance, I'll fucking cut your face the next time we meet–" You didn't finish your sentence, your words replaced by a scream of pain when Alfie, without a single warning, slashed your arm with your peaky cap. Blood soon filled the gash and overflowed from it, soaking the white fabric of your shirt in a crimson stain.

"Go ahead, dove. Say it again." This time you remained silent, staring at him in horror. He had cut deep, deep enough for you to feel the sickening pulse of your own heart in the wound. Your refusal to obey led Alfie to burst into an unexpected rage. His face reddened, and his brows furrowed, casting their shadow eyes. With one strong and brutal movement, Alfie's free hand grabbed your face, his calloused fingers sinking into your cheeks until your jaw hurt. "SAY IT AGAIN AND I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING WINGS!" He barked, a bit of spit spilled in his beard and bloodshot eyes staring at your very soul. "See, you don't stand a chance here my sweet dove. You're just a little girl playing gangsters". In an unsettling mood swing, his temper had gone quiet again.

"I'm not gonna kill you peaky girl, that would be too easy. I see your eyes, and what I see in them is that you ain't afraid of death and I reckon this is a trait I particularly fancy in someone. So what should I do with you? We might..." He made a short pause when he noticed a tiny detail he hadn't spotted before. Alfie's hazel grey eyes abandoned yours and dropped to your bosom where he could see the round shape of your hardened nipples pointing through the fabric of your shirt. Licking his lips, Alfie's iris darkened with mischief and something you never expected to witness in the eyes of an enemy – lust. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine as the baker's smirk suddenly turned into a wicked and threatening smile, "I know, dove. I know what I'm going to do with you. Everything's clear in my mind". A sparkle of pure madness enlightened his face, just like an artist struck by inspiration. With his words followed his hand, that came meeting your trembling body. His strong palm roamed all over you, the friction it created snatching a whimper from your tight throat while you understood his obscene plans.

"No, no! Please! Alfie--" You wanted to scream but you couldn't, petrified from the moment his fingers trailed down your belly and ended their exploration between your legs. The noisy juggling of the chains you produced by struggling sounded like a melody in Alfie's ears, who hummed in satisfaction at your cunt's warmth he could feel through the fabric of your trousers. His fingers pressed a bit more against your core, shooting a wave of forbidden arousal through your entire body and making your legs shake.

"You're in heat, lil' dove." He noted with an amused tone before closing the distance between your ear and his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming scratching sensation of his gruff beard against your skin and the blazing blast of his breath. The room spun as you found yourself intoxicated by the fragrance of his cologne. Musky, and with a dab of cedarwood. His scent was as raw and wild as him. "I'm pretty sure you're all wet, aren't you?" He cooed in your ear. His rough fingers, applying pressure at the exact spot where your throbbing clit was, started to rub it in slow and circular motions. As much as you hated the thought of it, his skillful caresses lit a fire of desire within you, so much that you felt your own wetness soaking your panties, "How long since a man stretched that lonely pussy?"

"Don't touch me!" You growled, but as convincing as you had tried to sound convincing you still failed judging by how Alfie's brow arched. He let out a dark chuckle. Doing the exact opposite, his fingers kept fondling your sensitive bud but this time his wet and warm tongue licked your neck just like a predator would do to get a first taste of his freshly caught prey.

"Oh I'm not gonna touch you dove." The muffled sound of your cap falling on the concrete ground made you open your eyes again. You had barely lifted your eyelids when your gaze met Alfie's other hand, who was kneading his massive bulge. As afraid as you were, you could not help but let out a soft yet needy moan "I'm not gonna touch you. What I'm going to do cannot be described, no no it can't because I don't want God to hear it. What I can tell you though is that you'll never come back to Birmingham once you'll know the feeling of my cock buried deep inside you." His words' immediate effects upon you had your teased pussy clenching onto nothing and reminding you how desperately empty you were. An emptiness Tommy would never fill, "Are you thinking about him now?"

You weren't.

Alfie didn't need you to answer, for the way you brought your hips closer to his fingers and grind against them was enough. The mad baker's mouth sucked on the sensitive flesh of your neck, pinching it between his lips to leave a bright red mark on you, claiming his newly acquired property. All these sensations soon became unbearable: the friction of your shirt against your erected tits, the cold bite of the handcuffs on your wrists, and the increasingly faster rubbing of your clit destroyed what remained of your will of fighting. Never in your life you had been touched for you had always kept your virginity unspoiled for Thomas. A stupid and fruitless devotion.

You gave in to the pleasure and surprised yourself by thinking about how big Alfie's dick looked, unable to look anywhere else.

"Don't s-stop." You muttered under your breath, your climax building as Alfie kept assaulting your sweet bundle of nerves: he was nothing but gentle with it, almost hurting you with how rough he rubbed you. With your mouth parted and your breath quickening, you felt the delightful warmth of an orgasm coming but, all of sudden, Alfie stopped.

"Enough for today. We'll see if you deserve more tomorrow." He said.

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 1 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd

#Peaky blinders #Alfie solomons #Alfie solomons x reader #Tom Hardy smut #Peaky blinders x reader #Alfie solomons smut #Peaky blinders smut #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy x reader #Peaky Kinktober #Tommy Shelby

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yutahoes · 5 months ago

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Caramel

(Part Thirteen)

gif by @noyuta I can't find the gif I always include in the story so just saved it and uploaded it. I'm sorry.

characters: ex-stripper! company vice-president! Yuta x female! ex-wealthy! secretary! mom! Y/N genre: chaptered, smut, angst, fluff word count: 3.5k words summary: Y/N has everything in her bitter life, not until she meets a sweet-looking stripper. warnings: matured theme, ex-stripper au!, third person POV, alcohol consumption taglist: @cherrymotodude @tenjyucat @justsomekpopstuff @ilhoonseyeballs @whyme11 @a-bts-world @amazinggraxia

Part Twelve

It must be a dream. A very crazy fever dream.

Come to think of it, even when he first met her, it felt like a dream. A hazy fairytale. How could a pretty, wealthy, successful girl hang out with a low-life stripper? Even when she was in his arms, he felt as if he was floating and just dreaming of the moment. When they got separated and he never saw her for years, it felt like a dream-like trance.

Maybe this is still a dream. He probably just missed her so much.

Yet when Yuta pinched his arm so hard, hurting himself in the process to at least wake himself up, Y/N was still in front of him. And she looks even prettier, glowing even. He can’t take his eyes off her. He had to get his eyes checked twice just to make sure that what he was seeing was true and not a hallucination.

But why? How?

Why would the wife of a globally esteemed company chairman work as a secretary in their small company? How did Y/N end up here, in his office, of all places?

It must be a plot. Maybe she works as a spy for their own company. But why Suzaki company? Does she know that he’s been doing this to defeat Jung Tradings?

He’s getting crazy just thinking of her reason when his original reason for opening the company is to be more successful than Jung Jaehyun. Then maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a chance to steal his first love from her husband.

Is this a sign of mockery from them?

That he’s now tied up to his dad who he despised the most. He’s running a small company. That the girl he yearned for is so close yet feels so far. Even if he can always see her, laughing with his very own secretary, he cannot touch her. That even if she calls him ‘sir’, he cannot have her.

He hated this feeling, he’d rather die.

All his hard work is now slowly going down the drain because of these stupid feelings.

The money Y/N had given him the night they last shared was all poured into opening this small business. It was a deal he proposed to his biological father, Mr. Suzaki, when the elder's henchmen caught him. He had been running really well from him, avoiding him at all costs for years. But it only took Y/N’s mother for him to get discovered and be sent back to Japan.

Yuta knew, even at a young age, that his biological father was the well-known yakuza in town. Growing up, the people around would tell him that he resembled the old man’s eyes. It also doesn’t help that he used to frequent the Geisha house to visit his favorite, Yuta’s mom.

He knew his father had money. But ever since Yuta was born, the yakuza leader never once came into the Geisha house again. He never once visited him, never even bought his mother out. The first time Yuta saw him was when his mother died and he just casually bought him out of the Geisha house. A young boy living in a house full of women with raging hormones isn’t a great sign, that was what he told Yuta. But a young boy living in a house full of violent men isn’t a great sign either. He saw people being killed, and blood splattered everywhere in the house. His father is ruthless and does not spare any life.

When Yuta was sixteen, he decided to run away from everything and live a new life.

It was a well-thought-out plan. He never knew if his father did look for him all those years but he didn’t care, as long as he could stay away from the old man’s life. As long as he wouldn’t be tagged as a yakuza’s son.

Now, he is the vice president of the Suzaki group. And now that he’s back, Yuta is determined to get the president position from his father.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. But now that Y/N is on his team, his desire to be the company president has become less. He just wants to be the vice president and keep Y/N as his secretary. She seemed closer to him this way.

Yuta thinks that he has an upper hand from Jung Jaehyun this way. His wife works for him eight hours daily. Technically, they spend more time together than she does with her husband. If possible, he saw her more this past week than when they were hanging out back then. And she didn’t change. Y/N would always forget to eat lunch especially when she’s immersed in her work so Yuta had to call for Haechan’s attention for him to ask his fellow secretary to eat. She would always stay at work late and come to the office so early. She wouldn't even complain even if he kept asking her for revisions.

Does she still have time for her husband? Is Jaehyun not clingy for her time? Because if that was him, if Yuta is the lucky person she got married to, he’d probably go to the office late and go home early to spend more time with her. He’ll probably just attach her to his hip just so they can spend all their waking moments together. Is Jaehyun already sick of her? Maybe Yuta still has the chance to snatch her away from him.

It was a mystery. This is her husband’s party yet Y/N had told Haechan that she’ll just be waiting for them outside the hotel gates. She could easily just go inside the hotel with her husband. Besides, she knew about this hotel right? Yet, seeing her in that gorgeous black dress, he was glad that she didn’t come inside with her husband. His cheeks flared up, heart beating crazily in his chest as if it would burst. Even after all these years, it’s still her.

Yuta casually opened the door of the backseat for her, letting her sit beside him in the car. Y/N obviously looked startled and Haechan, who was seated on the passenger seat, greeted her by saying that she looked lovely. For the first time, Yuta was grateful to have a chatty secretary in his life. The younger was sharing about how amazed he was at the hotel, even gasping at how far the gate was from the entrance.

“It used to be farther,” both Y/N and Yuta claimed at the same time. Haechan’s eyes widened as the two just glanced at each other. “Have you been here before?” Both nodded which made Yuta lightly smirk. How could he forget that this was the exact place where they first met? But maybe that was just him. Surely, Y/N had more memories other than him in this place. She probably spent more time here with her husband, with its posh room and quality service. And that fact, itself, pissed him off.

The driver opened the door for him and Haechan opened the door for Y/N. When the only female of their team held on to Haechan’s arms, he pursed his lips in annoyance. Even in the elevator heading to the ballroom, the two were just very chatty with each other. Y/N shared that the escargots are amazing and that Haechan should try them out but what she said next confused him, “I don’t know if they’ll serve wine, they have amazing red wine here.”

Shouldn’t she know? This is a party held by Jung Jaehyun, her husband. Or, are they still married?

He had always seen Jaehyun on the covers of magazines as the youngest chairman or one of the most successful multi-billionaires but there’s nothing about his wife or their married life together. He just assumed that she wanted their relationship low key but that would be impossible since with her intelligence and beauty, they could be tagged as the most powerful business couple. If the was him, once again, he would show off how amazing his wife is.

Yuta lightly glanced at her as she talked to the receptionist. Maybe they have broken up. He now has the best chance.

“You can come in, Chairman Jung is ecstatic to meet you Mr. Suzaki.” Both Haechan and Yuta stared at the only girl who looked startled as well. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Nakamoto.”

The high ceiling of the ballroom amused the youngest in the team, exclaiming that he had never been inside something as fancy as this. There were a lot of people, some were familiar faces from way before his nightclub days. Faces he had seen in magazines or newspapers. People who probably know Y/N from way before. But she remained glued to Haechan’s side, engaging in talks with the younger secretary. Is this her way to avoid these people? She could have declined to come here if she wanted to.

Yuta thought that Jaehyun already knew who he was. Obviously, Y/N would have shared something about him right? That the stripper she once fooled with is now her boss. She even cried to her husband the first time they met, Yuta overheard that conversation. But the look on Jaehyun’s face is rather comical. He looked surprised and then confused at the same time, his eyes squinted as if taking a clear image of him.

“Mr. Suzaki.” The party host greeted them and then glanced at the girl behind the person he just addressed. Jaehyun looked confused before smiling, dimples popping out that annoyed Yuta. He lent out a hand to shake, “I’m Jung Jaehyun from Jung Tradings.”

“Yuta Nakamoto.” he introduced, shaking his hand.

Jaehyun’s smile grew before he slipped his hand off him and then faced the other guy, shaking his hand. “And you must be Lee Haechan.” The younger one smiled widely. “You truly are a ball of sunshine.” Y/N giggled at the younger’s shocked face. “If you don’t mind, can I borrow Y/N for a second?” He lent a hand for her to take, claiming that he wanted to show her something.

Haechan looked confused as Yuta carefully watched the couple walk while holding hands across the ballroom. “Does he know noona?” the younger asked as the older took a glass of champagne.

Yuta downed the drink before taking another glass, “They’re married.”

The secretary almost spat the drink he just took then stared at his boss as if he was joking then at the couple. “They look good together,” Yuta downed another glass of champagne. “Y/N noona hit the jackpot with a rich and handsome husband.” The older just rolled his eyes at that. He’s also handsome and rich. “But why would she work in our office if she’s the chairman’s wife?”

He pursed his lips at that, “I don’t know.” Yuta claimed then stared deadpan at Haechan. “That’s why I want you to watch her every move.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” Haechan asked which confused the older. “I thought you were smitten by noona. You can’t take your eyes off her.” What? That’s not true. What the hell is Haechan talking about? “There are rumors that you finally moved on from your first love because of noona.” Yuta chuckled before drinking his champagne. “Your favorability in the office came up when they thought you like a single mom then it turns out she’s married.”

Huh? “A what?”

“A single mom,” Haechan claimed as a matter of fact. “You do know that she has a son, right?”

Yuta’s eyes were on the couple greeting someone. A son? They have a son together? Then it’s game over, right?

True, this is Yuta’s first social event as a vice president of a company. As a Suzaki. But he’s not in the mood to mingle with some businessman or even introduce himself in their circle. Instead, he was seated in the hotel bar with a bottle of whiskey almost empty. How could one word affect him this much? A son.

Y/N, the girl he loves, is now a mom.

Her worry from way before is now a reality. Is that why she was glowing? Why she looks prettier? Motherhood might have looked really good to her. He just hates that he wasn’t there when that happened. He hates that all his reasons are now gone. He cannot do much to defeat the Jung tradings because realistically, he’s fairly a small company. He cannot steal the girl because they have a son together.

Y/N as a mom would be such a lovely thing to see.

Yuta hissed in annoyance before finishing the last gulp in his cup. Quickly, he tried to fill the glass when someone took the bottle from him. “You’re drunk.” He took the bottle away from the other’s grip but the girl just glared at him. “Stop drinking, sir.”

He had to laugh while shaking his head. “Where is Haechan?”

“I told him to look for you in the male restroom. I’ll call…” But before she could put the phone on her ear, he stopped her. Yuta leaned his head on her shoulder. His last attempt to find out if she was really true. That she’s now in front of him after all these years. His last attempt to keep his feelings for her. “Why did you drink so much, Yuta?”

Yuta? He looked up at her, fingers of his right hand threading on her left hand. “I…”

“Noona!” Haechan called. Yuta sat up, removing his hold from her as if they were boiling hot. “You found hyung.”

Y/N nodded. “Let’s take him home.”

“Haechan can. You stay.” The girl wanted to revolt at that but the vice president continued in a cold voice, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The younger guy was once again confused but followed his boss’ orders, leaving his fellow secretary looking at them in worry.

Yuta took a heavy sigh, dragging his own feet away from her. This is it, huh? His last goodbye to his last love. How heartbreaking.

—----

Y/N had been staring at her left hand the entire time she was inside the cab. She could still feel how warm those hands were. She could still smell his sweet scent. She thought he had changed a lot. But that guy earlier was still Yuta. Sweet, handsome, sexy, and warm Yuta. Maybe it was the pressure of being a vice president that turned his attitude colder. But there’s still the Yuta she knows inside that person. If possible, she thinks this new Yuta is even hotter.

The girl shook her head. What the hell was she thinking all of a sudden?

In those years apart, she was pretty sure that Yuta had found the girl of his dreams. He knocked her out pregnant in just a night together, he probably has a family of his own now. Because seriously, who would ever resist that gorgeous face and hot body?

Even that morning, with the warm cup of black coffee with a hint of caramel in her hands, she could still feel the warmth of his hand threaded on hers from last night. It’s even warmer than the coffee itself. She probably just missed him so much.

Haechan entered the office, apologizing for working on a weekend. “On a brighter note, we could leave before lunch if we get the work done.” He chirped, confusing her. Even if it is a weekend, isn’t that against the company rules? Secretaries cannot leave without their boss’ permission. “Hyung is too hammered to come in today. He also cried a lot from being too drunk last night.”

Y/N didn’t know whether to be jealous or be relieved. She had always wanted to see Yuta drunk. He did witness her in her drunken state once and he promised that one day he’ll show it to her, ending in just a night together. She was curious about whether he gets aggressive when he drinks or just sleeps as if nothing is happening. She was relieved that he only cried when drunk and that Haechan was there to take care of him. But what does he cry about? The company? His frustrations? She’s now curious about that.

The younger secretary was so great with computers that the task of doing a presentation for Monday morning and inventory of products were instantly done. Y/N was glad that she had an amazing co-worker and that their teamwork was great. “Are you eating out for lunch?” Haechan asked, fixing his backpack.

Y/N nodded, closing her computer. “My son is coming by so we’ll grab lunch together.” The younger only nodded, “Do you want to come with us?” The sentence came before she could even think about the situation. She wanted to take it back but Haechan was grinning widely. She didn’t want to break his heart but she didn’t want to explain anything to him as well.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, “Haechan, whatever you’re going to see…” she started then bit her lip in contemplation. How should she say this to him? “Could you please hide it from anyone?” The guy tilted his head to the side looking at her in confusion.

The girl was grateful that the younger had never asked anything. She introduced Mark to her co-worker, even sharing that he takes care of her son whenever she’s at work. The story of when she was in Canada and his parents were her adopted family there was also brought up. Her talkative son was the one who brought up that Mark wanted to be a performer in the country so he came with them.

Y/N thought that Haechan would be surprised. She even expected him to be mad. But his nonchalance in the situation scared her more. When he introduced Kenshin, he just smiled widely and then greeted the kid as if they had known each other for a long time. The young child even asked if their boss was evil which made Haechan nod at him.

Haechan had a young boy charm. His energy is off the roof and he jived really well with her son. Maybe it was also one of the reasons why she grew comfortable with the younger guy. Contrary to Mark’s calm energy who was strict with her son like a real brother, Haechan had a cheerful approach to him like a playmate. Even their interaction reminded him of her brothers from before. How were they? Are they still as close as before? She wished she had taken notes on how to take care of a young child. She wished she had seen Junyoung grow up.

“Does hyung know?” Haechan asked then lightly glanced at Mark who was listening. He probably knows right? The older woman shook her head, drinking her coffee. “Do you plan on telling him?” But she only shrugged in response.

It isn’t that she doesn’t want to tell him. That would save her an earful from Ken who kept on asking for his dad. But the said father has already reached a high status in his life. New money rich. And with the current situation, she doesn’t want him to think that she’s after his money. Kenshin was her mistake, her decision. She didn’t follow his number one rule. He asked her for condoms and she declined. She needed to take the consequences of her life decisions. Besides, if Yuta isn’t ready to have a child, she doesn’t want her son to endure a heartbreak caused by a person he badly wants to meet the most.

They’re fine living this way.

When Mark decided to leave, excusing that he had a small busking gig, Haechan came with him. The mother-son was just walking in the opposite direction when the young secretary asked, “Shouldn’t we do something?” Mark just gave him a puzzled look, raising his eyebrow at what the other claimed. “Help noona and hyung get back together.”

“Do you think they’ll both appreciate that?” Mark claimed in a soft voice. “I heard your boss likes to torment noona. The other day she even cried because he asked her to repeat the report four times and then submitted the first one she had done.”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying my boss is an amazing man. He’s an annoying jerk.” The younger complained, making Mark smile. “But I recently discovered that he’s only like that because he was jealous of noona and Jung Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun hyung?”

“They’re married, right?"

Mark even stopped in his tracks. “They’re not.” Haechan stared in question. “Something about Jaehyun hyung stopping the wedding and noona running away that they didn't get married.”

The younger’s eyes were wide in shock. “No way. Hyung thought they got married and she moved on from him that’s why he’s acting like a pathetic jerk.”

“And noona thought that your boss did move on from her that’s why he’s been cold towards her.”

“When clearly he hasn’t.”

The older squinted his eyes at the secretary, “How did you know?”

The younger had a faint smile on his lips. “He kept on crying her name, saying that he missed her so much, when he was drunk last night.” The smile grew wider, “Mark, we can definitely do something to get them back together.”

“How?” Haechan smiled knowingly, making Mark sigh. “But if Y/N noona or Kenshin gets hurt, I’m out of it, Lee Haechan.”

The younger shook the older’s hand, nodding his head. “Welcome onboard, Mark Lee.”

“We will bring back Yuta hyung and Y/N noona together.”

#yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto fluff #nakamoto yuta fluff #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #yuta angst #nakamoto yuta smut #yuta nakamoto angst #nakamoto yuta angst #yuta chaptered #yuta nakamoto chaptered #nakamoto yuta chaptered

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sealofarchives · 8 months ago

Note

Could you create a headcanon for ‘Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ about what kind of fathers Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey would be? I find this idea fun. :3

Headcanon: Rise!Turtles being dads and sweetest husband to the reader (Separate) (Requested prompt)

A/N: I'm still uncomfortable with the idea of aging up the guys towards "mature content."

However, this idea was really cute. It only made sense for this prompt where the guys are aged up with some reference to their bad end!future selves. I went with around early 30's when the turtle of your choice and the reader are in a committed relationship and currently raising a kid at the moment.

So please have common sense and think before typing some snarky response with 'oh aged up content is bad lol' (Because I will put those ideas on the 'do not write list' if people get too weird about it...)

Raph

You know how he has the habit of that one baby voice with Mayhem. (and a bit of the hey buddy tone towards Mikey or Donnie)

- His kid is never gonna escape from it. (even by the time the kid is a grown up)

He definitely panicked for a bit when his kid (during the energetic toddler phase) enjoyed climbing over a big guy like him.

- So he had to ask Donnie to make a battle shell specifically as a soft cushion. So the spiky shell doesn't accidentally scratch the kid.

Part of him is worried anytime he has to scold his kid. And only when you're around is when he feels okay to do so.

- He definitely does the "Did you ask (Y/N) if you could have another cookie?" sort of question. (Sometimes willing to go along with what his kid wants or following (Y/N) if he got caught spoiling the kid)

You're getting at least one peck on the cheek by the end of the day.

- Or earlier in the day if he accidentally woke you up.

Compared to his younger self who slightly whined about chores, he grew to enjoy it when both of you worked on it together.

- Laundry being one example where you're usually folding clothing fresh from the dryer. And he stacks a pile back into the clean basket/hamper.

His eyesight in the right eye has gotten a bit worse. (not as bad as his bad end counterpart where he needs an eyepatch) But, you often act as his extra set of eyes and call out to any surprise attacks.

- Which earned the title of you two with a tag team couple and he still blushes thinking about it.

Leo

Every few hours before a night patrol, he always checks in to see what his kid is up to and often gives a hug before leaving.

Often gives bedtime stories through retellings of Lou Jitsu's movies or Jupiter Jim's comics.

- Even acting out of some of the scenes before a yawn decides its time to sleep.

Gave one of his spare bandana scarves to his kid.

- Had the biggest grin on his face when the kid realized "Oh hey! We're matching!!!"

Almost similar to the night patrol part, but if you can't make it because of work or some other boring life detour.

- Its a portal away for a light hang out sesh. For both of you to take a breather away from the grown up life.

Late night conversations are just a regular thing between the two of you.

- Especially when he couldn't sleep. By the time he almost dozes off to sleep in your arms, he still playfully teases you that your voice is soothing to him.

When light conversations about the bad end future was brought up during a casual match of video games, he was never used to the idea that he had a prosthetic arm.

- You instantly hugged his right arm, jokingly reassuring him.

"As long as you can crack a joke in the most serious moment. I'll still know that its you Leo."

"Even in a timeline where, me and the guys were raised by Draxum?"

You gave the red slider turtle a 'really?' pout before he hugged you into his lap.

"Nah I'm just kidding, but for real though. Draxum's former henchmen are still goofballs that know their way around the city. I'm pretty sure that Leo could get a couple of one liners and maybe from you as well."

Donnie

Almost went into a frenzy trying to child-proof the lair. (Especially the month before the kid's arrival changed the atmosphere) But eventually settled down.

- Realizing it would have stressed his kid out by any sudden new changes (and a bit of his family and your help explaining the reasoning as well)

Leo's showboating energy transferred to him but, in a way that, the softshell turtle is very grateful. That he has you as a spouse and both of you raising a kid along side his sentient inventions. And will try to bring it up in any conversation.

- The whole wallet photo gag of him showing family pictures. You love this silly turtle but, usually lightly pinch his face if its the wrong time for that.

He lights up whenever his kid goes to him for any sort of question.

- He slightly restrains himself to avoid going overboard with the answer. But, his kid is smart enough to know that and sometimes tells you that he's not being himself again.

Cannot force himself to sleep unless you're beside him. (or if you have to drag him to bed yourself)

- The few times where he woke up while you were still sleeping. He always gives you a light hug and a kiss on the forehead before getting out of bed.

He subtly took interest in one of your hobbies. (Either an ongoing or a new one) Just so he can step away from a tedious project that was going nowhere and not bother you with the boring details about it.

- Sometimes mentioning a fun fact to impress you.

You gave into his idea of letting your kid have a similar weapon like Casey Jr's.

- Only when they reached their 13th birthday and learning the basics of: constructing it and fixing parts along side their dad. How to use it defensively, offensively, and etc.

Mikey

Considering how his future self had some hair on his head, he kept it long so he can do a few matching embarrassing baby photos to his kid.

- Like giving the kid a tiny ponytail and etc. He definitely cried a bit while having his signature grin when the kid pulled too hard on his hair, laughing at one of his jokes. And you had to step in to help him.

He knows how to work around some of his kid's picky eating habits. Usually making sure his kid is having fun or decorating the plate in an artistic manner.

- However, there are times when the kid can hide the veggie or fruit out of plain sight. Or his kid asks his uncles for help when Mikey's focused on some other thing.

Absolutely does that peek-a-boo trick with hiding his face or whole body into his shell.

- He was nervous at first, if the trick might have scared his kid but, no the kid was giggling. Curiously crawling towards him in awe of it.

Will sometimes make meals ahead of time. (often being, if you returned from work, too exhausted to greet him)

- Either leaving a note on a plastic container in the fridge of: [(Y/N)'s breakfast: DO NOT EAT unless you want an surprise session with Dr Delicate Touch </3] (this also applies to lunch as well)

On very rare occasions, he will temporary wear a cloaking brooch. If you're at an area isn't very friendly towards mutants and/or yokai.

- The one time that happened, is when you forgot to bring your lunch at a job that barely lasted a week. (Stuff that was out of your control but, he was relieved that you got out of that place before your coworkers decided to physically fight back at the manager)

Spends at least one day in the week with you to do some light meditative exercises.

- On the really bad days, he doesn't mind letting you hold his hand as a stress ball or just have a quiet moment to relax while his brothers babysit your kid.

#rottmnt x reader #raph x reader #rise raph x reader #leo x reader #rise leo x reader #donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #mikey x reader #rise mikey x reader #I added the husband part because I couldn't think of anything else #like without making the dad portion too similar to each other #despite some of splinter's questionable parenting habits he really raised good turtles #so I went towards more lighthearted goofy stuff because my heart cannot take angst (bad end future was already enough for me lol TT w TT)#I already have a biased who's my favorite but this is the first time I'm struggling to write about f!leo #I need help lol

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