#i simply do its bidding
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grelleswife · 1 year ago
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I get the feeling some of the staff have no idea what goes on with those kids too tbh 💀 like someone lied to them too.
Hi, anon! Based on the pattern established by the previous two mission arcs, my guess is that the F.O.L. staff are at least partially aware of the orphanage’s true purpose, even though most of them probably don’t know the full details.
During the maid arc, Jane wasn’t privy to why Heathfield manor was collecting blood, but she knew those illicit activities were going on as soon as she stepped through the door, since she was hired to act as a bodyguard and keep the operation under wraps. Other servants were also active participants in the scheme, including Abbie the housekeeper, depicted below showing Jane where the unconscious maids were held.
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Likewise, Ada was complicit in drawing blood from her patients, even after making the connection between the dark underbelly of Sphere Music Hall and Athena Sanatorium. Of course, unlike Jane (who didn’t give a damn about the victims and only had her own pecuniary interests in mind) Ada sincerely cared for her patients, only continuing to collect blood under threat of losing funds if she disobeyed orders.
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Based on the events up to Chapter 200, I think the F.O.L. staff acknowledge that there’s shady business afoot but keep their heads down and focus on the job—if the orphans are hurt in the process, that’s not their problem. 🤷‍♀️
As Theodore told Finny, “the forest that surrounds F.O.L. Orphanage is filled with countless traps, the guardhouse is always staffed, and they’re on watch twenty-four hours a day to keep an eye on us.” Even if the adults were kept completely in the dark, surely some of them would find these excessive defenses and constant surveillance a little suspicious (Assuming Yana isn’t making them obtuse for the sake of plot convenience 🤪)!
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There’s also an undercurrent of tension (not the fun kind) among the ladies that occasionally rears its head. For example, when Doll begs these characters to let Snake stay at the orphanage just before Finny and him are booted out, their discomfort is obvious. This doesn’t look like annoyance at a child’s whims, but apprehension about crossing someone with a degree of power over them.
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Later on, when a minor change is made to the menu for the Pomeranian class’s afternoon tea, the staff flies into an all-out panic. And when Snake has the temerity to question their overblown reaction, one of the workers is so shocked that she involuntarily drops the plate she’s carrying. It’s almost like the grownups have the threat of dire consequences looming over their heads if they put a toe out of line. 👀
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Also, consider how sinister the paneling is when the chief of staff informs Susan of Ginny’s fledging day. Pitch-black backgrounds, shadowed faces. Not the reaction you’d expect from blissfully clueless women who assumed they worked for a Nice Normal Orphanage that Definitely Does Not Kill Kids.
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Speaking of fledging day…anyone with an ounce of common sense would hear alarm bells ring when all the orphans who attempt to escape or fail to meet the class system’s rigid expectations are sent packing. Again, the workers are either blind to what’s right in front of their noses, or they’re in on it.
Moreover, the staff make it their prerogative to keep the children ignorant. The newspapers given to the orphans are regularly censored to filter out any information—such as the uncovering of Sphere Music Hall’s crimes—that might clue the kids in to the grim reality in which they’re trapped. It’s possible that the adults are told they’re removing such content for the kids’ own good, to avoid upsetting them…but why be so assiduous in controlling the orphans’ perspective of the outside world unless you know there’s something to hide?
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While it’s unclear if they’ve been told who (and what) Doll actually is, they apparently know enough to cover for her when those pesky bizarre doll traits start peeking through. After Doll has to excuse herself following a woozy spell, Susan rushes to placate Snake with a bullshit excuse about her period (because everyone with a uterus turns into a fragile fainting flower when that time of the month rolls around. Didn’t you know? 🤡) and quickly changes the subject before they can ask too many questions. To me, at least, this read like a blatant attempt to conceal Doll’s episode from Finny and Snake, even if Susan isn’t completely aware of what these occurrences entail.
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And finally, there’s no way these workers sincerely believe that they shave orphans’ heads on their fledging day TO “GET RID OF LICE AND FLEAS” when F.O.L. Orphanage is supposedly such a prestigious establishment. You’re lying through your teeth, Susan. (If those poor babeys aren’t having their hair clipped for surgical purposes, I’ll eat my shoes)
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While I doubt the workers have the whole story, they’re far from innocent.
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pirateborn · 1 year ago
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i love writing roger he rly is just a fun guy to write,
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hauntedhowlett-writes · 6 months ago
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𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄
PAIRING: JACKSON!JOEL MILLER X FEMALE READER
RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ MDNI) | WORD COUNT: 1.5k
SUMMARY | Nowadays, he’s got the look of a man who’s discovered safety after survival, more life in his face, more weight on his bones. His hair has grown out, curling around his neck and more prominent streaks of gray at his temples and in his beard. This thing between the two of you remains undefined, comes and goes like waves crashing on a shore, but you’ll take what you can get because you’ve never been good about avoiding temptation.
AUTHOR’S NOTE | One glimpse of Pedro as Joel in the new season has turned me into a woman possessed. Thank you @undrthelights and @janaispunk for giving this a read for me 💕
ways to help palestine
WARNINGS | explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, porn without plot, mild angst, able bodied reader, no physical reader descriptions or age mentioned, jackson era, mentions of joel's weight (in the context of looking healthier in jackson), emotionally constipated joel, dirty talk, praise, pet names, kitchen sex, oral sex - f receiving (while standing), unprotected p in v, limited aftercare. let me know if i’ve missed any!
A noise breaks through your dreams, a loud banging that startles you from sleep and leaves you blinking at the ceiling. Thoughts still fuzzy, you stumble down the stairs and through your kitchen to the back door that rattles in its frame with each pound of a fist against it. You glance at the neon red numbers of the stove clock and at this hour, there can only be one culprit.
“Joel, what the fuck,” you groan, opening the door. “It’s two in the morning, what is wrong with you?” He doesn’t answer, simply shoulders past you and into your house. “Oh, sure come on in, make yourself—“
Your sarcastic remark is abruptly cut off by his lips crashing against yours, mouth hot and hungry as he skips any semblance of pleasantry and dives straight into carnal desire. His teeth graze your lip, the sting soothed by his tongue before it tangles with yours. Your fingers curl into his jacket sleeves, hanging on for dear life as he backs you into a wall, the two of you hitting one with a dull thump that disturbs the picture frames.
He shoves a knee between your thighs and pins you to the plaster, every sense invaded by him as he continues to consume you. When his mouth leaves yours and begins to leave hot kisses like brands across your neck, you finally find your voice again.
“Joel, what—“
“Shut up,” he grunts. You’re taken aback by the command and you have half a mind to smack him across the head for it, but he’s got his teeth on your earlobe and he adds, “I just, I need this, okay? Please?”
The fight leaves you in one fell swoop because you’d do anything for Joel if he just asks nicely. You nod and he returns to his task of turning you into a puddle with a single minded determination. When you start to rock your hips against his denim clad thigh in a desperate bid for friction, you feel, rather than see, the grin on his face.
“Mm, just as needy for me, ain’t you?” He teases. You frown.
“Don’t push your luck, Miller,” you snap. He laughs, a deep rumble that reminds you of the thunderstorms in the spring. “I can still kick you out of my house.”
“You won’t.” Confident, cocky, a man who knows he has you in the palm of his ridiculously skilled hands. “If you’d been smart, you would have kicked me out the first time. Now I’m just like a stray dog, ain’t gettin’ rid of me now.”
The first time, when he showed up in Jackson with a chip on his shoulder and a frown on his face. His hair had been shorter, his frame a bit smaller, his eyes a lot more vacant. He walked you home one night from the Tipsy Bison and when he kissed you under the glow of your porch light, his mouth tasted like whiskey, not unlike it does tonight.
Nowadays, he’s got the look of a man who’s discovered safety after survival, more life in his face, more weight on his bones. His hair has grown out, curling around his neck and more prominent streaks of gray at his temples and in his beard. This thing between the two of you remains undefined, comes and goes like waves crashing on a shore, but you’ll take what you can get because you’ve never been good about avoiding temptation.
While your thoughts drifted to the past, Joel has dropped to his knees and is curling his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, dragging the fabric down your thighs.
“In the kitchen? Really?” You huff. “There’s a perfectly good bedroom upstairs.”
“Too far,” he says, tossing your underwear aside.
Despite your complaints, there is something undeniably sexy about having Joel kneeling before you, impatient enough that he’ll take you right where you stand. He shuffles closer, lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and lavishes your clit with broad swipes of his tongue.
Your head drops back as you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pulls out every trick in the book of your pleasure, alternating between fast circles and sucking the bundle of nerves between his lips. It’s not long before you’ve reached the precipice of your release, teetering on a razor thin edge before finally falling into oblivion with a gasp of his name. He groans against you as you come, waves of it rolling through you.
“So fuckin’ good,” he says as he pulls away. You look down at him with a half-lidded stare, his chin wet in the low light and his own gaze dark with lust. He stands, slowly, with a bit of a wince because of his bad knee that he tries to hide with a grin. “C’mere.”
You let him pull you away from the wall and into his arms where he kisses you, his lips and tongue drenched in your taste. He walks you back to your little kitchen table, kicking a chair out of the way so that he can turn you to face it, a palm between your shoulder blades urging you down until you’re bent over the wooden surface.
The clink of his belt buckle falling to the linoleum makes your muscles clench in anticipation. Joel’s palm smooths down your back, almost reverently, before reaching your ass and giving it a rough squeeze.
“You’re killin’ me, you know that?” He asks. You turn your head, glancing at him over your shoulder.
“Me? I’m not doing anything, I’m waiting for you to quit teasing.”
“That’s just it,” he says, sliding the head of his cock through your messy pussy before notching himself at your entrance. “You ain’t gotta do anythin’ except exist and you’ll drive me crazy.”
Any response you had dies a swift death as he presses inside of you, filling you in the most tortuous way. The ache of the stretch quickly fades as he bottoms out with a deep groan, his hands gripping your waist tight enough that you know you’ll feel the phantom sting of bruises in the morning. He sets a rough, demanding pace, the sound of skin against skin cacophonous in your little kitchen. You can’t hold back the noises of pleasure he wrings from you as he slams in deep with each thrust and pulls out so far that you’re practically empty before doing it over and over again.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous like this, so tight,” he grunts. You arch your back the slightest bit, changing the angle so that each drive of his cock drags against that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars and whimpering his name. “God, that’s it, sweetheart. Take it so pretty.”
“Joel,” you moan. “Please, please, please.”
“Beggin’ to come again?” He asks. “So greedy, ain’t that right?”
“Yes,” you sob. “Need to come, please, Joel!”
“I gotcha, baby.” His hand slips between your thighs and his fingers pinch your sensitive clit. “Come on, come on my cock so I can fill you up.”
It’s an empty threat, but one that works. Your muscles go tight with your second orgasm, your cunt pulsing around him as his thrusts grow erratic, uncoordinated as he chases his own high. He pulls out just seconds before making good on his word, painting your skin with warm release.
As you catch your breath, his warmth leaves your side. You vaguely register the sound of running water before a cold rag is wiping away the mess on your ass and cleaning up the slick between your thighs, the rough fabric over your sensitive flesh making you jump. Joel shushes you, another pass of his soothing palm down your back as he finishes wiping you clean.
You stand up straight on shaky legs and collapse in the chair that he’d kicked from the table to make room for your bodies. He’s already pulled his pants back up, the only evidence of your tryst in the sheen of sweat on his brow and his hair in disarray. His jaw grows tense as you watch him and he shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot in the awkward aftermath.
“Thanks,” he says. “Needed that.”
“So you said,” you reply. “Did something happen?”
“Just some bullshit with Tommy.”
“Brother bullshit or town bullshit?”
“Bit of both.”
“Oh.”
He nods, glancing at the door. “I should get goin’.”
“Right.”
Joel doesn’t move for the door, though. No, he steps in close, taking your face in his warm hands and kissing you softly, gently, a wild juxtaposition to his earlier attentions. When he pulls away, you can’t help but reach up and smooth a thumb between his eyebrows, trying smooth the line of concern there.
“You don’t have to leave,” you whisper. You’ve said it before. You’ll say it again. You’ll keep saying it, until the ship that passes you in the night returns to your harbor.
“I do,” he replies, stepping back. You give him a tired smile.
Tonight isn’t that night.
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Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or commenting if you enjoyed! You can find more of my writing below:
Joel Miller masterlist | All character masterlists
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months ago
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HEAR ME OUT
“Don’t you think I’m scary?”
“Scary? My god you’re divine”
AHHHHH
FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋
I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻
PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx
fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !
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before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.
he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.
he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.
and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'
anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.
usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.
but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.
katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.
but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.
you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."
"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.
he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."
"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.
"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.
pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.
he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.
"behave." you squeeze his hand.
"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.
"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.
you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"
"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.
"..how'd you-"
"your mom told me."
he grunts. of course, it was his mom.
that damn hag..
"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.
"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"
"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.
"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.
"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"
"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.
"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.
cool.
you think he looks cool.
"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.
"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.
"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.
"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.
"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.
"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)
he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.
finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.
"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.
"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask
"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.
"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.
until—
"OW, fuck !!"
your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!
until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.
the. asshole.
"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.
katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"
"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.
"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.
"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.
"i see you laughing."
today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.
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seelestia · 7 months ago
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✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)
⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )
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#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }
#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.
#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭
★ 〜 masterlist.
© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
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⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.
it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?
it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?
for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.
before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.
what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)
but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.
ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.
a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—
“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.
“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.
...so, that's who.
(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)
it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.
taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.
this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.
'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.
sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.
call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.
“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”
the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.
“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”
neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.
(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)
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⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.
it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.
everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.
he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.
but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.
don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.
tick-tock! tick-tock!
the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.
“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.
and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”
the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”
“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.
“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.
but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.
wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.
(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)
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⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.
it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.
they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.
trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!
he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.
he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.
how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.
maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.
will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).
it never gets old.
when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.
for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.
“lyney?”
right on cue.
your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.
“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.
you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.
your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!
“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.
“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.
who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”
his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.
“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.
“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.
with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.
“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”
there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.
“lynette!”
but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.
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— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡
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wileys-russo · 3 months ago
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mascot II l.williamson
"you nervous?" you asked, leaning in your door frame as leah glanced over to you with a firm shake of her head. "no." she replied quickly, not an ounce of doubt present in her voice but you knew her well enough to see the flicker of unease in her eyes.
you stepped into the bathroom, making your way over to her and gently pushing her hands out of the way where she'd been messing about with the collar of her jacket.
"it's okay if you are, means its important and you want to do well." you assured softly, folding over and smoothing out her collar, tapping her shoulders with a smile.
"maybe a tiny bit nervous then." your girlfriend admitted quietly, pulling you into a sudden hug as her chin rested on your shoulder.
"you mean to tell me the leah williamson, england captain and european champion is human?" you gasped teasingly, leah pinching your sides.
"you'll be brilliant my love. you've done everything right lee, now its time to go and enjoy it." you smiled kindly, holding her away from you at arms length, your hands gently clasping her face.
"what if i mess it up again?" the doubt was now clear in her facial features as her eyebrows turned downward into a deep frown.
"like i said lee, you're human. football has ups and football has downs, you've been smashing it back on pitch for arsenal. this isn't anything different, you go out and you give 100% and do your best for your country. no one can ever expect anything more from you than that." you assured, eyes never leaving hers as she nodded.
"i love you." she replied simply, leaning in and pressing her lips to yours. you indulged her for a moment, leahs hands slipping down to your hips and drawing your body closer into hers.
"i need to go before you get in trouble for having visitors." you pulled away with a smile, leah sighing but nodding none the less. "stop pouting, i'll be seeing you in like three hours." you laughed at her face, sweetly pecking her lips a few more times.
"i'll meet you with the mascots yeah? you'll have mia?" leah asked, hands grabbing yours and fiddling with your fingers as you hung about by her door. "we'll be there." you promised, your girlfriend nodding as you opened the door.
"ah! captain mode, be professional." you warned with a playful glare as she took the opportunity of your back facing her to reach out and smack your bum, her usual cheeky grin returning as you shook your head.
then with one more final kiss goodbye, you were gone.
~
"how does she seem?" you murmured quietly to keira, keeping a watchful eye on your niece as she ran around giggling, making friends left right and centre forever the social butterfly. "good. stern and serious as usual!" keira chuckled, bumping her shoulder into yours.
"back to herself then." you laughed quietly, greeting a few of the other girls as they joined you, your girlfriend still not to be seen as they called out for the mascots to line up so the girls could meet them properly.
you bid keira goodbye and squatted down as mia ran over. "come here you grub." you laughed with a shake of your head, re-tucking in her shorts and smoothing out her hair.
"you are just like your dad." you chuckled, your older brother forever bouncing about like an energizer bunny nearly his whole life. "do i have to tuck it in?" she groaned, stamping her foot and pulling her shirt back out of her shorts.
"all the very best footballers tuck their shirt." you looked up to see your favourite smile bearing down on you, mia tackling leah in a hug and wrapping tightly around her leg. "can you do it please?" mia asked, lifting her arms as leah knelt down to help her tuck it in.
"mia! what was wrong with how i did it?" you gasped in mock offence, hand on your chest as your niece shrugged. "aunty lee's the best at everything." she answered simply, leah picking her up into a tight hug.
"yeah very mature captain williamson." you rolled your eyes at the older girl who stuck her tongue out at you over the five year olds shoulder making her giggle. snapping back out of it your girlfriend gently placed mia back down, again squatting to her height.
"hey mee." leah started, poking at her sides and making her squeal. "so when you walk out with me in a little bit i won't be smiling very much. i want you to know that doesn't mean i'm upset or grumpy or anything. but all of this-" she paused to gesture her hands around the room.
"-this is my job. and part of my job means i have to be a bit more serious than usual, and make sure all my girls are ready to play the best football we can. but that doesn't mean im cross with you, okay?" leah finished with a reassuring smile, mia nodding along in understanding as your heart melted at the sight.
"you're the boss!" your neice chirped, tapping the england crest on leahs top with her hand making you laugh as your girlfriend grinned up at you.
"nah not the boss, just wear the armband and look after the girls. don't tell anyone but really i just pretend to know what im doing!" leah whispered looking around before grinning at the five year old, ruffling her hair and standing up as the refs appeared ready to walk out.
"now mia you listen to aunty lee when you're out there yeah? and then as soon as you're told to you come right back and meet me here and i'll take us to our seats. okay? no funny business!" you warned, your niece nodding as leah held out her hand, stern look already settled into her features as mia bounced excitedly on her feet.
knowing better than to break leahs professionalism you took a step back, huddling on the edge of the tunnel with the families of the other mascots as the girls walked out.
watching on as mia sang her heart out to the national anthem made your own melt, catching leah almost break her serious facade, some of the other girls chuckling at the unbridled passion from your niece.
it was so fast you might have missed it if you blinked, but you saw the indescribable pride flicker across your girlfriends face as she used the back of her hand to wipe away a single tear, masking it as she clapped and the girls started to disperse.
you smiled as mia raced over to you, babbling on and on as you chuckled, taking her hand and just catching leahs eye. "i love you." you mouthed, a small smile curling into the corners of her mouth as she winked quickly, dropping back into position as you hoisted mia up onto your hip and left to make your ways to your seats.
and you'd never felt prouder.
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marcsburnerphone · 10 months ago
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: none yet
Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
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———————
“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.
“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.
“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.
“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.
“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.
“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.
“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.
“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.
“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.
“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.
“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.
“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.
“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.
“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.
“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.
“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet
‘of course’.
“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.
“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.
“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.
“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.
—————-
“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.
“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.
“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.
—————————-
“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.
“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.
“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.
“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.
“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.
“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.
“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.
“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.
“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.
————————
“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.
“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.
“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.
“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.
“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.
“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.
“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.
“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.
“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.
“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.
But what if?
——————-
“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.
“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.
“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.
“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.
“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.
“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.
“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.
He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.
“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.
“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.
“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.
“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.
“No worries love.” He nods to you.
“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.
He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.
—————————————-
I’m ready for a new story.
Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3
If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.
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venomhound · 11 days ago
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Hazbin Hotel - Sleeping Habits
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NOT TALKING ABOUT DIRTY STUFF. We talking about actual sleep-sleeping. Vent post I guess. Been feeling lovesick and missing having another person in the bed. Which inspired this post. Post about what its like to share a bed with Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer and their overall sleeping habits.
Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; SFW except like one suggestive thing in Lucifer's section; I can't tell if writing Lucifer is making my own depression worse or better Actual brainrot below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿
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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
I know alot of people headcanon that Alastor doesn't sleep or sleeps very little. But Hot Take™ here: Alastor sleeps a completely normal amount. Like, 7-8ish hours. He just hides when he does.
I mean think about it. What emotion does Alastor hate expressing more then anything? Vulnerability. When are you (arguably) at your most vulnerable? When you are sleeping.
So I have it in my head that Alastor throws himself into special hiding places when he needs to rest. His room in the hotel with the bayou pocket dimension is a great example. Alastor probably has a hidden cabin in those woods. He actually considers the cabin his "room" and goes there to sleep. But good luck finding it.
Sleeping in front of someone/with someone is kinda a phobia of Alastor's. I wouldn't be surprised if this started developing after he killed someone in their sleep during his mortal life.
Anyway. When you and Alastor become a thing, there really is no defined point where he 'moves in'. It happens more like your boiling a frog. Gradually. Until you reach a point where you don't even know when things changed exactly.
Alastor slowly spends more and more time with you. More time with you inevitably results in him spending more time at your house. Which results in Alastor bringing, and leaving, more of his stuff at your place.
This cycle keeps going and going until one day the culmination hits you. It happens when your looking in your closet, the once messy and haphazard storage space is now tidy and perfectly split between your clothes and Alastor's. Thats when it hits you. The fact that Alastor is practically living with you now. Yet, not only have you two not talked about it, but Alastor doesn't spend the night. Ever.
Don't get me wrong, Alastor will spend all day with you. But when you tell him your getting tired or are about to go to bed, he bids you farewell, kisses your knuckles, and just kind of... leaves.
At first, you attributed his behavior simply to the time period he was from. But as time goes on you realize its something deeper then that. Although you are never fully sure if Alastor doesn't feel comfortable sharing a bed, or if the demon actually needs less sleep then you do.
There have been multiple times where you started falling asleep beside Alastor late at night. When Alastor got up to leave, you would grab the edge of his coat and plead with him to stay. Alastor would then settle beside you, gently caressing your forehead, and tell you that he would stay until your asleep.
During these times, Alastor will often gently hum if not outright sing to you in an attempt to lull you to sleep. One of Alastor's new favorite things to do is to settle in next to you with a nice book while you snuggle into his side and fall asleep.
Once your sleep, Alastor will gently put his book down and turn to look at you lovingly. Alastor is very much that type of weirdo who likes to watch you sleep. He finds everything about your sleeping self utterly adorable; and will happily gush about whatever you do just to embarrass/fluster you. When I say everything, I do mean everything. If you snore, drool, whatever it is, Alastor finds it endearing.
He will usually stay and bask in your sleeping glory for awhile before leaving. But Alastor always kisses your forehead goodbye. Its a little moment of vulnerability only he knows about.
Alastor is an enigma. While he has no problem staying with you until your sleeping soundly, he refuses to actually stay the night. The only time you can reliably get him to stay in bed with you is during his ruts. Otherwise, the stars just have to align right.
If you actually do manage to get him to sleep in the bed with you, Alastor is very much a big spoon. He likes to protectively wrap his arms around you and embrace you. Pulling your bodies flush together and assuring you both of the other's presence. Alastor will tangle his legs with yours as well; throwing one leg over your hip to pull you ever closer, and sliding the other one in between your legs for even more contact
Alastor won't complain too much if he is already laying there and you decide to wrap your arms around him, spooning him instead. But Alastor's preferred position is as the big spoon by far.
The big downside of sleeping with Alastor is that he will not let you go once he is asleep. I hope you don't have to pee in the middle of the night because this man's arms have you in a deathgrip you cannot escape from. It feels like his subconscious mind is afraid that if he let you go, he would lose you forever.
Alastor also nuzzles his face into the back of your neck and shoulders while he sleeps. Your not sure if this is actually an affectionate gesture or a deer scenting thing.
Alastor's ears always seem to be moving. They twist, turn, and flick around. Reacting to the smallest of sounds and listening for danger while he snoozes.
Overall Assessment: An acquired taste. Just like cannibalism.
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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Has the best internal clock out of the entire Hazbin cast (and thats not a pun). Vox is very consistent with his sleep schedule. He is in bed around 11pm-midnight, and naturally wakes up around 6ish. No alarm needed. Unless he has to wake up extra early for a meeting of course.
Honestly, this guy's internal clock is rock solid. The only times it gets fucked up are when Velvette and/or Valentino (mostly Valentino, lets be real here) drag him out to a party, bar, or club late at night. Vox never has a good time anyway, so he doesn't even know why he goes.
Vox always ends up trashed and staying up until like 3-4am. Not exactly a good idea when your body has been trained to wake up early. His body will wake him up only a couple hours after he went to sleep whether he likes it or not.
This usually ends up with Vox being super sick for a day. Because he is still kind of drunk, but also kind of hungover, living on two hours of sleep, and drinking coffee like its water just to remain standing. Vox is just a complete mess and no one knows why he came into work to be honest.
Vox goes to bed early that night (at 10pm; thats "early" for him), and wakes up the next day mostly recovered and reset. Mostly.
Once you and Vox get together, you help Vox's sleep immensely. Whether purposely or not, you start teaching Vox to prioritize his sleep more and how to get actual rest.
Vox can actually *gasp* take a nap if you do it together. He doesn't even remember the last time he was able to have one. But now he loves it and siestas become a regular thing the two of you share.
You also mess up Vox's internal clock. But in a good way. Yeah, Vox still wakes up like clockwork every morning. But if your snuggled into him and still sleeping, Vox can actually go back to sleep.
Vox's preferred sleeping position by far is the Nuzzle/Cradle. His widescreen forces him to sleep on his back so there isnt exactly many options... But Vox really wants to cuddle and touch you.
So youll inevitably end up draping yourself practically on top of him like a weighted blanket. Your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of Vox's pulse, with his fingers gently petting you… Also like a weighted blanket, you comfort Vox in a way he cannot begin to explain.
Vox will get pouty if you don't like sleeping on his chest or its too hot to do so. He will deny through and through that he does it though. Vox is one of those people who is like 'IM NOT POUTING' as their bottom lip is sticking fully out.
But once you two start sharing a bed, Vox actually has to be touching you in some way. He doesn't know what it is, but he just cant get comfortable and starts getting restless when you two arent touching. So other good sleep positions that work well with him are the Tetherball or the Leg Hug.
For the Tetherball; Vox will just simply rest his hand on your hip while you sleep. This works best if your a side sleeper, cause then Vox can gently hold the curve of your hip. Drawing mindless shapes into your skin with his claws as you both go to sleep. This simple contact is more then enough to assure Vox that your there and safe so he can rest peacefully.
As for the Leg Hug; Vox feels weird about it at first. Sticking his leg out to the side, hoping for some contact. God, he feels desperate. But he needs to feel you. When he does, all his anxiety immediately melts away. When you reach your leg back and tangle it with his, Vox feels butterflies rise into his chest. You really do love him.
Once Vox is asleep, he is... odd, to say the least. He is simultaneously a light sleeper and a heavy one. You figure it has something to do with the technological parts of him and what they deem 'safe' or not. Like, what triggers his internal alarms.
For example, you can easily just get up from the bed, shake the bed, bounce off it, and Vox wont budge. Won't even move. But then someone sneezes outside his hotel room and he is up instantly.
Because of how light of a sleeper he is, it takes Vox forever to go to sleep. He is one of those people who has to lay there for a solid hour. Even then he rarely goes into actual deep sleep. Vox tends to go into this weird rest mode where his screen will start doing that old dvd logo bounce thing. If his screen is completely black however, it means that he actually managed to fully power down for once.
For the love of god, if Vox actually fully powers down, do not jolt him awake. Vox going into deep sleep like that is rare enough as it is. But waking him up suddenly from it makes him incredibly groggy. It honestly completely ruins his entire day because he feels like he never fully wakes up.
You can always tell when Vox is awake (or semi-awake) because he will be gently petting you, tracing circles into your skin as a way to sooth himself. The moment Vox goes to sleep, he stops. You've also noticed that when this happens, his hands tighten slightly into a protective grip on you.
Overall Assessment: The best one to sleep with on the list if your looking for actual rest. Too protective for his own good even in his sleep.
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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
I hope you don't like actual rest too much. Because this guy has no idea what a sleep schedule is. I mean, he kinda did when Lilith was around. But since she has been gone everything has just been out the window.
As my fellow depressed people will know, it wreaks havoc on your sleep. One day you cant get out of bed and sleep twenty hours. Then you cant sleep at all and go days with only three hours of sleep total. This guy does that.
Not to mention this man is certainly, most definitely, somewhere on the spectrum. Thats also gonna fuck with his sleep massively. Lucifer will hyperfocus on a project and forget that 'oh yeah, food and sleep are things I need'.
Lucifer will hyperfocus on a new duck he is making and not leave his workshop for over 15 hours at a time. When he DOES leave, its only to make snack/food runs. Passes out on his workbench or tea-table constantly.
So uh. Yeah. Poor guy has no actual sleep schedule. When he starts staying at the hotel, Lucifer is commonly wide awake at 3am and highkey will scare the shit out of people like a ghost. Insomnia to the nines.
Once he is actually asleep, Lucifer sleeps like a dead man. Nothing can wake him up. This is a learned trait. In the height of his depression after Lilith left, Lucifer stopped seeing a point in getting up most days. He started sleeping through alarms, sirens, explosions... He just stopped bothering. What's the point? Its not like he has anything good to wake up to anyway.
Lucifer starts... trying to fix his sleep schedule once him and Charlie reconnect so he can spend more time with her. Well. Attempting would be a better word for it. Lucifer keeps doing that thing where he goes, 'oh yeah I should try going to bed early tonight', then proceeds to stay up past four in the morning. So no progress has actually been made.
Once YOU come around however, Lucifer actually starts sleeping normally again! Eh, kind of. Its a work in progress. But its progress! Which is MUCH further then he has gotten before!
The problem is, you have to trick Lucifer into sleeping. Otherwise he will keep trying to say he is busy, say 'just one more thing' to infinity, or start whining that he isn't tired.
So what do you do? Start kissing him and entice him to bed with the promise of cuddles. Or you can start kissing and nipping at Lucifer's neck with a different kind of sleeping in mind... (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ He is sure to stay in bed with you if you wear him out first, right?
Another tactic that works everytime is to pretend to fall asleep next to him in his workshop. Sometimes this plan fails right away because you actually do end up falling asleep; but thats not the point here. Lucifer gets the most loving smile on his face as he picks you up bridal style and takes you to bed, only for you to grab his arm and pull him into the bed with you.
You thought it was a pain getting him into bed? Well he is a pain once he is in the bed too.
Lucifer is an actual koala. He can't just be touching you, oh no. He has to be embracing you. He has to be having as much contact as physically possible in order to sleep. It seems like every night his goal is to see what new shape of human knot he can tie you two in.
I hope you run cold or can tolerate heat well. Because like I said this is the ONLY way Lucifer can sleep. Lucifer will do whatever he can to make it work though. If you tell him your uncomfortable, he will change how your limbs are intertwined. If you tell him your too hot, whelp. Time to start losing some layers. And blankets are overrated anyways!
If you tell Lucifer you legitimately cant sleep like a pretzel, it will actually break his little heart. Lucifer will 100% take it as a personal rejection. He will stop sleeping in the bed with you all together so he doesn't "bother" you.
On a much happier note; once you two are tangled up and somehow manage to fall asleep, Lucifer is the cutest thing once he is sleeping.
Lucifer does that thing where he will half wake up in the middle of the night and kiss you before going back to sleep. If you do the same thing (or just generally kiss Lucifer while he is asleep), he will make little happy sounds in his sleep when you do so. You swear they sound kind of like bird cheeps.
Also thanks to >>this combo post<< by @poisned and @heart-of-the-morningstar I now have it permanently in my head that Lucifer talks/mumbles in his sleep.
Before you two got together, it was mostly nonsense or things about his ducks. But now you often hear him muttering your name, how much he loves you, or just saying other lovey-dovey junk in his sleep.
Overall Assessment: Lucifer is extremely difficult to handle, but doing his best. That's what really counts right?
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AN: Just a disclaimer, the thing about tricking Lucifer into bed by pretending to fall asleep in his workshop so he carries you isnt my idea either. It was from a cute fic here on Tumblr but I cant find it at all. ๐·°(⋟﹏⋞)°·๐ Please lmk if you know what fic Im talking about! I literally spent hours looking for it.
FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Check out this ADORABLE fic about Vox trying not to wake up his very sleepy s/o >>HERE<< by @timeslugarts
One of my favorite posts is this super cute bedtime and pajama headcanon post by @activesplooger that can be found >>HERE<<
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yandere-sins · 1 month ago
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Monstober - Day 3: Alien
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I've read so much alien romance by now—it's a good way to incorporate monsters ngl—I feel like I have seen it all. And yet, there is just something about it that I will never tire of ♥
Prompt: Day 3: Alien | Otherworldly // Uncanny Valley // Space Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Threats, (Alien) Blood Mention, Killing (of aliens), Getting cut), Abduction & being auctioned off situation, Belittling of Humans, Alien Manipulation
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"And next up: A very rare pet of the type "human"! Directly imported from their home planet, "Earth," to be loved and cared for! Bidding starts at one million GSC!"
You felt terribly exposed without your clothes, merciless, harsh lights burning down on you, and no shade to hide in. Even with your arms tightly wrapped around your body, legs tugged in and crossed over, you still felt the stares of the creatures below, even if you couldn't see them. Their hungry growls and huffs echoed all around you while the price kept rising.
The lanky stature of the monster that hosted this auction paced back and forth on the edge of the stage, asking for participation and making this deal worthwhile. The creature looked like a humanoid cricket, with spindly legs, four arms, and three fingers on each hand that it kept pointing left and right.
"Four million GSC! Four-point-five million GSC! Do I hear five? Five million, thank you!"
You couldn't help the tears filling your eyes as you listened to the worth of your self, something you never had a say in determining. Even with your father swearing up and down that he adored and cherished you more than his own life, you knew that his gambling addiction would one day ruin everything you loved. You just didn't think he'd go as far as to sell you—to aliens nonetheless.
On earth, you had thought you had seen it all—highs and lows, in person or on television. But in your cell on the spaceship that flew you through the cosmos, you learned you knew nothing. You were a tiny speck in this endless design, and it left you feeling empty and meaningless.
You met quite a few species back when you were waiting for the auction to take place. Humanoids, insectoids, and some completely unexplainable. You learned that most aliens sold themselves to wealthier species to live a better life, not so much concerned with pride or shame as humans were. Thus, the existence of an enslaved human caused quite a ruckus in the galaxy. You had yet to learn the worth of GSC—the currency beyond your planet—but apparently, one million was akin to a yearly income here.
"Twenty-five million GSC! What an amazing price for a priceless pet! At this point, it will only be fair if you lovely participants know what you're getting into!"
At this, you finally raised your head again, bracing your eyes against the painful light as the thumping of steps closed in on you. A three-fingered hand reached out for your arm, and as green and gnarly as it was, its movements were fast and precise. You cowered away but weren't as quick and nimble, and the fingers were large enough to wrap around your upper arm, yanking you back.
Without any warning, a small claw emerged from one of the alien's free hands, cutting you right above its own fingers around your flesh that held you in place. You gasped but the creature hummed approvingly before it dabbed a white tissue to the wound, soaking up the blood. Unnecessarily harsh, the monster discarded your arm again, making sure to let you know how much you really meant to it with all its actions—nothing.
You were simply a means to an end. One that would hopefully bring lots of money.
If not for the precarious state, you should have been angry. Angry at your father, angry at the world—the whole galaxy even! How dare they sell you like a piece of meat with no regard for your well-being and wishes! Sure, they weren't used to the pridefulness of a race they deemed weak yet untouchable by the laws of their organization. But the way they treated you, abused you, and disregarded all of your self as if you truly were a mindless animal only seeking food and shelter to simply survive was beyond insulting!
You were still a human! The superior race on your planet. You still had intelligence and empathy and deserved so much more than their belittling treatment!
But here, you were nothing. The alien disappeared with the sample of your blood, and you saw it bend down at the edge of the stage, leaving you to assume it was passing the tissue to someone else, who, in turn, probably gave it to the patrons of this establishment. The crowd suddenly erupted in a heated cacophony of sounds. More groans and huffs spread through the masses, and the alien auctioneer clapped his four hands together as more offers were yelled into the room.
You were just a piece of meat. One to purchase and show off, play with, ruin, break, and then force to be the good pet that they paid millions for. At this point, you were pretty sure that they wouldn't stop and keep your dignity intact. That no one here truly cared whether you'd be happy or scared or embarrassed.
"Fifty-three million! Sixty-four! Do I hear sixty-five—Seventy million GSC!"
The enthusiastic grunts and murmurs made you sick to the stomach, and you hunched over, cowering in your position. Maybe they were right; perhaps you really were just an expensive piece of meat.
You hadn't given the future too much thought yet, too afraid of the present after you were kidnapped and shipped to space. But what if, despite them calling you "pet", you'd actually be killed and eaten? What if once you weren't new, weren't special anymore, you'd simply be discarded, ending up on the streets of an alien planet where you were at the mercy of those creatures? What would you do if they were all hulking, strong beasts that could throw you around like a ragdoll, hurting you, abusing you?
Or worse... Oh god, you could think of so many more things they could do, and yet you were too afraid to form the thoughts in your head.
There were so many cruel ideas in your head as you sat there, hunched over, despair filling your body and mind. You had to do something, had to get away. Pride was one thing, but survival was the most primal need you had in you. And as much as you wished for it all to be over, how could you possible achieve this? How could you, a simple human make them stop tormenting you? Secretly, you had already accepted their superiority; it had been this way since the old ages. Masses made you humans strong, but you alone? No chance.
"Do you wish to end all of this?"
Your ragged breath came to a halt, your head slowly turning to the side from where the voice came. There was no explaining what you were looking at, those humanoid features so similar to humans, yet somehow their features were sharper, elongated, cheekbones too high to be real, the nose too slim to look functional. The creature's body was lean and tall, its torso almost entirely in view from above the stage. You examined them for a long time, their blue skin standing out against the harsh lights. You spied the flick of a tail behind them every so often, sleek with a puff of hair at the end. And despite being so different, somehow, they scared you less than the aliens you had seen on your journey here.
"S-Sir, with all due respect, you're not supposed to approach them without them being restrained."
The auctioneer called out to them, stepping in front of you and blocking the line of sight unsuccessfully with its spindly, insectoid legs. You shuddered at the thought of going back into the restraints you had woken up in after being knocked out and readied for shipment. "What if they attack you or get filth all over you? These creatures are known to spit," he added more quietly, hoping to appease the one standing in front of the stage, their tail flicking more often now. Was it annoyance that crossed their features? Or did the light blind you to see the truth?
The creature's gaze lingered on you for a while longer, their eyes drilling into you from between the gaps in the legs before their head snapped upwards rapidly, lips parting in a menacing grimace. "Let them speak," they growled, and the auctioneer jumped back, sputtering before moving to the side.
Only now did you notice the deadly silence in the hall, and you slowly unfurled from your hunched-over position, looking up. But not without your arms tightening around you, shielding you a little from being exposed.
The alien's head fell back down, facing forward, the movement much gentler, less frightening—intentional. Their dark blue gaze softened, no pupils but swirls of lighter blues and purples swaying in them. And then they smiled, and it almost seemed comforting, if there weren't two rows of spiked teeth. One of their hands raised from below the stage—another uncanny feature as their arms were just too long—and the other settled on the stage tapping on it, beckoning you closer.
When the other arm emerged, it held a smooth kind of fabric in it, maybe a coat or a rag, but the dark blue color glistened in the direct light made you assume it was something better than a poor person's rag as they spread it out on the edge of the stage, pushing it in your direction as far as possible.
"It's okay now," they purred, and a sudden relief washed over you, their words sinking into you like a warm hug and reassuring backrub would, your jaw unclenching and shoulders sinking. Something about them calmed you, and although your brain was telling you to be extra careful, you couldn't help but feel connected to them. Hesitantly but curious, you inched closer, fingertips reaching for the fabric. Part of you expected the creature to pull it away from you the moment you attempted anything, but they didn't move, didn't even breathe. It was unnerving how still they could be, still like a trick of your mind, an illusion, but the soft fabric beneath your hand was very real, and you tugged at it warily.
It followed your pull, and soon enough, you pressed it to your chest, covering up your naked body. Greed settled in as you reached for more with your other hand, spreading the blue around you, the fabric seemingly never-ending, at least not until you had utterly cocooned yourself in it, nothing but your face and a few strands of your hair still looking out of it.
It had this grounding smell that enveloped you like a second layer of fabric, sweet and earthy, but also reminded you of the ocean you used to visit at home. Your heart ached as you took another deep breath, unwilling to part with the memory.
You couldn't help a shuddering breath from escaping as you looked back up at the creature. So much closer to them now, their size was even more towering, yet you didn't hesitate to look into these intriguing eyes of theirs, the swirls now creating pools of depth inside of them with how fast they were circling, looking as if they were entirely fixated on you.
"Thank you," you muttered, genuinely grateful for the help.
"My pleasure," they replied, their long-limbed arm reaching out, catching the loose strands of hair and twirling them in their fingertips. You felt like you needed to recoil, but for some reason, you didn't move, completely at peace with the creature touching you, their skin smelling much like the fabric around you. "Now, about my question. Do you wish to end all of this?"
It was a strangely phrased, hard-to-interpret question, but you didn't wreck your head before agreeing with a nod. You did want all of this to end; you didn't want to be a pet to some strange creature that was paying a lump sum just to own you. They were all the same greedy monsters that your father was: heartless and unsympathetic. Why would you not want to end this damned situation?
"Wonderful, but I'll have you know that that power comes at a price," they chuckled, hand falling from your hair to your cheek. A large palm cupped your face, thumb splitting off to caress your lower lip, pressing against it, their gaze fixating on the plumpness jumping back in place after being fondled. Then, their hand slid further down, unwrapping your neck from the fabric and slipping around your throat to the thumping spot of your puls that it wrapped around.
"Are you willing to pay that price?"
"B-But Sir! Please..." someone whimpered from beside you, but it was nearly impossible to break eye contact with the alien before you and acknowledge whoever was speaking. They had a mesmerizing aura to themselves, the swirls captivating your attention, and you felt ashamed to say they fascinated you. It felt wrong, yet... right. Was it supposed to feel that way?
"What's the price?" you mumbled, a part of you still a good human, aware that nothing came for cheap and everything should be in equal value.
"Mhm," the creature hummed thoughtfully, but not appalled by your question, their thin lips curving into a grin similar to that of a human but more foxish and uncanny.
"Your life to do what I please with, in exchange for..."
They made another thoughtful sound before the rumble in their chest turned into a purr. Their lips split into that menacing smile from before, many sharp teeth creating pristinely white rows, and you knew they thought themselves on the winning side. You felt their grip around your throat tighten, and with an unexpected yank, you were pulled forward, just a breath away from their face.
"How about every life that dares to look at you with appalling intentions? Every soul, or the equivalent in their respective race, in this room, calling you a mere pet? Every alien that touched you as if you were an object of their possession? Anyone that has ever or will in the future harm you? Would that be enough, little human? Do you require more from me? It shall be yours. Your life in my hands in exchange for everything you could want—and my coat."
You tightened the fabric around your body, a waft of the sweet scent you smelled before tingling your nostrils. It was a damn good coat, and an even better offer.
Somehow, it bothered you less to hear you'd still be sold like a slave—although perhaps better a slave than a pet. At least it would be on your terms, right? Or the alien's... Your head felt dizzy as you thought about it. If this was the promise, you could live with it. You'd at least get out of this situation and live to see another day. And you were so angry at these creatures around you, your father, everything! Why should you care about them? Right, you shouldn't. You should... agree. Take the deal and be done with it. Dealing with one alien was better than all the others.
"Do you swear to keep your promise?" you asked, and the creature sighed blissfully, nodding their head before resting their forehead to yours. Tension that you hadn't realized had been there before left their body, and you noticed their free hand creeping up on stage, closer to your bundled-up form.
"I swear," they uttered solemnly, and you nodded in acknowledgment.
"So do I."
"S-Sir! You cannot disrupt this auction as you please! There are rules on the Galactic Space Hub that prohibit direct selling of wares and—"
The sound of squashing flesh interrupted the auctioneer's speech, and your eyes widened—as did the creature's cheeky grin. You felt something hot and wet splatter on your coat but didn't realize what it was until it hit the alien in front of you on the face. Your head slowly turned with hesitant movements, but their free hand reached up, keeping your face forward instead while hushing you.
"Don't look," they chuckled, and chaos erupted in all forms of sounds around you. Neighing, squawking, and the occasional grunts were to be heard everywhere. You couldn't ignore the squashing, sputtering sounds of fluids and flesh being cut open, your body shivering with not even the coat being able to keep you warm all of a sudden as you came to a realization of what kind of deal you had made.
"Shh, shh," the alien hushed, bringing a hand up to their own face to wipe away the alien guts that had splattered them. With a flick of their wrist, they returned the arm to your back and wrapped it around you. "Just keep looking at me, don't look at them. It's your turn to keep your promise and not to disobey my orders. I hope you remember your part of the deal and spare yourself the misery."
Pulling you off the stage, you were cradled against their chest, flat and tight under what looked oddly similar to a vest and dress shirt from earth, intricate patterns decorating the seams. The curiosity of any human wanted you to look and witness the devastation that had taken place, but you couldn't tear yourself away from this strange, otherworldly creature, their command seemingly effective.
"Your Majesty, it is done. What do you wish to do now?"
"Hm," the creature hummed, leaning forward a little more, lips almost brushing yours. You held your breath, fingers clawing into their shoulders. You tensed in their hold as they carried you out of the harsh spotlight, shrouding you in the darkness that had once given privacy to the aliens trying to buy you for their own pleasure. But nothing more than silence was left now, and it was an eery one, paired with many pungent yet alluring smells around you.
"Ready my ship," the alien ordered, and you felt hypnotized by their eyes paired with their smell so close to you now. Tempted, almost, to have a taste of their lips, see if they tasted the same as they smelled. "Sent a fleet ahead of us and tell the court I am finally coming home."
They grinned again, and you should have recoiled from the sharp teeth shining in the darkness. Their whole body seemed glowing even outside of the light.
"And tell them I bring back my blood mate, my newly betrothed, and prepare for the harvest."
You gasped as you heard the creature announce their plans, pushing away from them and managing to tear away from their hypnotic gaze. No one said anything about your blood! What were their intentions? What did they want with your blood? How much blood did they want? You thought this would merely end in you being a companion, rather than a mere pet, but it seemed you had been entirely wrong.
"Ah, ah," they chuckled. "Remember, it's the price you promised to pay. My kind values clean bloodlines above all else. Imagine how hard it was to find one of your kind that matched mine? Otherwise I would have never been allowed the pleasure to keep one of you, be with one of you. You are simply perfect. Interesting, "fun". Exactly what I want in a blood mate!"
"What?" you winced, feeling a strange sense of betrayal. "Why me then? Why a human? Why not one of your own kind? O-Or the others!"
"Your kind is the most interesting of them all," they explained. "I can't wait to uncover all these emotions you are feeling, one after the other. I must know all about what it's like to feel "pain" and "happiness". You have no idea how boring these other species are, no matter what I do to them. I'm not wasting my time copulating with those simpletons. I want something more from my mate. Something they can't give me, but you can."
Their explanation sounded threatening even when they smiled throughout it, their intentions becoming awfully clear, and you squirmed in their arms that only seemed to tighten the more you moved. You fell for it like a fool! you thought, scolding yourself inwardly for not being more careful. You trusted the creature even though you knew better! None of those aliens would have treated you well! None of them had good intentions!
And you might have just fallen for the worst of them all—a curious one.
"Now, now," they tutted, a hand wrapping around your neck from behind, squeezing until you gasped for air.
"It's time to hold up your end of the bargain, as will I, always."
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mysteryshoptls · 2 months ago
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SSR Fellow Honest - Playful Dress Vignette
"My stars, a grave insult!"
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[Scalding Sands – Silk City]
Fellow: Now, ladies and gentlemen!
Fellow: What you are about to see here is a one-of-a-kind wonder.
Fellow: This is truly a genuinely invaluable show you are about to witness.
[rabble, rabble]
Fellow: Nice, them people're finally startin' to gather…!
Fellow: If you're interested in what I have to show, please, drop a few madol in this can over here. Any amount is fine~!
Fellow: And now, feast your eyes��
Fellow: On this… A one-of-a-kind puppet that can walk on its own without strings!
Fellow: What do you think, Mister? Madam? Doesn't it look so life-like? Amazing, is it not!?
Fellow: This exquisite beastman doll is the only one of its kind.
Fellow: You all are fortunate indeed to see such a fantastical sight. If your interest was piqued, I implore you to leave a token of appreciation…
[rabble, rabble]
Fellow: …Eh? It's not a puppet? A normal living being?
Fellow: HOW RUDE! WHAT EVIDENCE HAVE YOU FOR YOUR ACCUSATION!?
Fellow: Please, look carefully. It might be able to move without strings, but even if I poke or tickle it, it won't even cry out or laugh.
Fellow: It is a beautifully crafted puppet. Yes, that's right, there can be no question.
[Gidel nods]
Fellow: Ah, stop, Gidel!
Fellow: …It moved? Oh no, it must have just been a trick of the eye.
Fellow: Or, are you perhaps trying to insinuate that I, Fellow Honest, am a liar?
Fellow: You didn't mean it…? Ahhh, oh, but you've hurt my feelings so~!
Fellow: I've been known as Honest John, a man of integrity, pure and innocent, and yet you would call me a liar…
Fellow: I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SUFFER SUCH A DAY! MY STARS, A GRAVE INSULT!
Fellow: Hey now, Mister. Since you've damaged my pride like this, feels like you should provide me with a show of good faith and…
Gidel: [sneeze]
Fellow: AH!!
Fellow: U-Uhh… Ladies and gentlemen, I… Hm? You want your money and time back? …No need to get so angry… Hahaha…
Fellow: …Crap.
Fellow: RUN, GIDEL!!
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Fellow: Haah… Pant, pant… Did we lose them?
Fellow: …YOU NITWIT! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE RIGHT THEN TO SNEEZE!?
Fellow: Just a little longer and we woulda gotten something extra on top of their spectator fees!
Gidel: …
Fellow: Ugh, whatever. ...All we got to show for that in the end was just a little bit of spare change…
Fellow: …And whatever small bits and bobs of jewelry they had on them.
Fellow: I stealthily swiped them with my magic while those idiots were all focused on you, but there's not much here. Shame.
Fellow: This dump ain't worth staying in. Time to move on, Gidel! Fwahaha!
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[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]
Fellow: Look carefully, fair people! What I have here is a magestone. However, this is no ordinary magestone.
Fellow: The date: 1000 years ago; the place: the depths leagues below the Coral Sea. This magestone was said to be sought even by the Great Seven!
Fellow: It may look like an ordinary pebble. So, what makes this an extraordinary find? Once you hear what I have to say, you'll never recover from the shock!
Fellow: Listen and be amazed! This is a miraculous stone where whosoever holds it becomes capable of using magic!
Gidel: ! [honks horn]
Fellow: For you, ladies and gentlemen, I risked life and limb searching high and low for this in the most secluded southern regions.
Fellow: There is only one of these gemstones in existence. We'll start the bidding at 50,000 madol (500 Thaumarks)! Come, come, all who are interested, please raise up a hand!
[silence]
Fellow: …Huh, no one wants to raise a hand? What, do I have before me a gaggle of broke spectators?
Fellow: Heh, gutless, all of you. Ah, but damn it all! Is there not a single one among you with the courage to reach out and grasp the miracle laid out before you!?
Fellow: With icy demeanors like that, even my fleas will laugh at me.
Fellow: …I'm sure you all are simply thinking there's no way you could trust vagabonds like us, isn't that right?
Fellow: You think I'm selling you a fake? You think you'll be wasting your money?
Fellow: Aah, that's no good, my dear fellows! If you mistrust me so fervently, it's not as fun...
Fellow: Don't worry. If you believe in what I tell you, there's nothing for you to be afraid of.
Fellow: COME ON TO THE THEATER!
Fellow: LIFE IS FUN
Fellow: …Ah, there we go, that was quick. 80,000 madol from the gent over there! And 100,000 madol from the one over here!
Fellow: A good call, everyone! With such wise decision-making skills, you all have a future scholar inside you!
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Fellow: Fwahahaha! Look at 'em idiots believing at whatever stupid story I throw their way!
Fellow: A magestone that'll give you the ability to use magic~? If something like that really existed, I'd've used it myself.
Fellow: Even the guys who were the most skeptical leapt at the chance once I used my Unique Magic. I sure enjoy pulling the wool over idiots who try to look down on me.
Fellow: Hm, let's see how much we earned today…
Fellow: Two, four, six, eight… Oho, not a bad haul. Look, Gidel, we'll be feasting tonight!
[Gidel hops happily]
Fellow: Word's probably got around by now, especially after I raked in this much. This might be the end of the line for our earnings here…
Gidel: …
Fellow: What? You want to head south this time?
Fellow: Not a bad idea. How 'bout we target vacationers at them fancy resorts?
Fellow: Let's see if we can kindly crash their little enjoyable vacations.
Fellow: …Yeah, that's perfect. You're a genius, Gidel. This time, we'll be the fancy, rich folk out on vacation.
Fellow: We go where we want, when we want. We have nothing and no one tying us down.
Fellow: That's the least we deserve as free-spirited folk!
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[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]
Fellow: EEEEP~~! I PROMISE, I WON'T DO ANYTHING BAD ANYMORE, I PROMISE!
Fellow: HELP~~~!
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[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]
Fellow: SHIT! THAT MASSIVE CHEAPSKATE!
Fellow: They were carrying around a crazy fat wallet. They could've spared even a little bit and nothing woulda hurt their bottom line.
Fellow: Yet they caused a fuss just from me trying to swipe a few thousand madol… Ouuuch, it's still throbbing where they hit me.
[stomachs gurgle]
Fellow: Man, I'm starving. It's gonna suck to go another night without dinner.
Fellow: Ain't there something we can find to eat…?
[Gidel starts to drift away]
Fellow: …Hey, wait, Gidel! Don't open that can!
Fellow: Geez… Don'tcha see what it says right here? It's got OIL inside. You can't eat it, even if you open it.
Fellow: You do the same thing every time you're hungry. I've taught you dozens of times, can't you read what it says?
Gidel: …
Fellow: C'mon, squat here a little. I'll draw it out on the ground, so don't forget this time, 'kay?
Fellow: O is for Orange! It looks round and tasty, don't it?
Fellow: I is for Ice Cream! That thin, ice popsicle was pretty tasty the other day, wasn't it?
Fellow: L is for laugh! Don't it look like a smile when you look at it on it's side?
Fellow: …Why is L the only thing that's not food? I couldn't think of anything, so sue me.
Fellow: There's only so much I can teach you, too.
Fellow: Tch. If I had been able to go to school… By now I woulda been more…
[Gidel pats Fellow]
Gidel: …
Fellow: What? We don't need school to fill our bellies?
Fellow: Sigh, oh, Gidel. You know, you're…
Fellow: TOTALLY RIGHT!!
Fellow: That's right, we're living just fine even without going to school.
Fellow: Learning whatever with books and pencils is utter nonsense.
Fellow: We'll just clean out those suckers that went though their oh so lovely education, and just live a life that's even fuller.
Gidel: !
Fellow: That's right, leave it to me! Follow me, kid, and one day, you'll be a grand showstopper too.
Fellow: We'll get some halfwit students to dance for us on a stage for our own amusement!
Fellow: Now… What's more important right now is figuring out what we're going to eat tonight. I'll try to find something, so you start a fire.
Fellow: Just throw whatever you find into the fire, like wooden crates, or posters or… Hm?
Fellow: This job posting here… Oh, well, well!
Fellow: Look here, Gidel, That one prick is looking to hire someone. And this time, it's at an amusement park!
Fellow: I don't know what they're planning, but… Last time we did work for 'em, we made a killing.
Fellow: I can't stand how he looks down on us, but there's a lot more to gain out of it…
Fellow: Why don't we just go hear them out, Gidel? If we don't like it, we can just bail.
Fellow: We live only for today, never thinking about what tomorrow might bring. We do whatever work keeps our lives free and fun. 'Cause we can go and do whatever we want.
[Gidel nods, Fellow whistles as they go off]
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Requested by @sakurakudo.
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runariya · 3 months ago
Text
The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 1
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summary: After being sold to a dangerous wolf hybrid at a secret auction, you find yourself bound to him in a game of control and obsession. pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: DDDNE, angst, violence, trauma, hybrid trafficking, JK is an Alpha, nud!ty, hormone suppressants, b!ting, blood, sniffing, the obsession is slightly showing, murd€r, gun, branding, fainting, lmk if I forgot smth - THX word count: ~ 1.8K
a/n: why would I give you a sneak peek when I could just gift you the first chapter? hihi 🤭 the chapters to this story will be as short as this one...soooo....and PLEASE MAKE SURE TO CHANGE YOUR SETTINGS, I CAN'T TAG SOME OF YOU 😭
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
masterlist • 2
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You haven’t slept in days, haven’t felt right in yourself for even longer, but somehow the adrenaline still floods through you, keeping you wide awake, on edge, your senses sharper than they’ve ever been, catching every little movement around you like your life depends on it, which is truly does.
It’s hard to believe that just two months ago, you were innocently walking down the street, not paying any attention to the blacked-out car with its door wide open or the figure standing across the pavement pretending to be on the phone. You had no idea then that you’d soon wake up miles away in another country, surrounded by other cat hybrids, far from the only home you've ever known.
You’re not stupid—you know exactly why they took you, what they’ve got planned, what they want from you. Even so, you stubbornly refuse to accept the grim future they’ve laid out for you.
The factory hall you’re crammed into now, in some grubby back room with the other hybrids, is every bit as filthy as your once-pristine black fur. What was once sleek and soft is now matted with dirt, so vile it makes you want to gag.
You’ve overheard the men who dragged you here talking about some hidden annual auction, where dangerous men from all over the world come to bid on the likes of you. Ever since, the other hybrids have been breaking down, sobbing and begging, their wails so relentless you feel like your brain is going to explode. Yet you stay quiet, ears pricked, your senses locked on every faint sound coming from behind the door.
Soon enough, they come for you all, shoving you roughly through the corridor you were brought down earlier, though this time they steer you down a different path, lining you up on a shabby makeshift stage. The construction site-style floodlights beam down so harshly that you can’t keep your eyes open for long, the brightness overwhelming and painful.
Through your squinting eyes, you catch glimpses of the men gathered in front of the stage—some muttering quietly to each other, others smoking as they lazily size up each woman. You search for even a hint of kindness in their faces, but of course, there’s none to be found—only cold stares from the most powerful predator hybrids. You feel completely exposed, even with clothes on, so vulnerable that it’s a wonder you don’t simply keel over from the intensity of being watched.
The auction starts soon enough, but it drags on endlessly, until finally, you’re the last one to be put up for bidding. It’s a shock when your price rockets past the others by millions. What doesn’t surprise you in the least is when a dangerous wolf hybrid steps forward to claim you. You knew, from the moment they snatched you off that street, that your life was always headed straight to hell. 
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When you arrive at your supposed new ‘home’, the wolf hybrid, who had you driven in a separate car from his, two golden retriever hybrids—one male and one female—greet you silently, as the wolf hybrid barks out “Get her ready, run all the tests.”
They bow nervously to him with obvious fear, muttering, “Yes, Alpha,” before leading you stumbling over your own feet away.
They scrub you clean, working the conditioner into your fur, detangling the knots that have formed over time. It ought to feel soothing, and on some level it does, but the very fact you’re being ‘prepared’ for something you can’t even begin to imagine keeps you from feeling any real sense of comfort. They run a barrage of tests—urine, blood, checking for illnesses like STDs—and though there’s some relief in knowing you’re healthy despite your malnutrition, the fear never leaves you. Your tail, now soft and groomed, curls tightly between your legs, trying its best to shield your bare chest from their prying eyes.
Once they’ve finished prodding and poking you, they dress you in clothes that fit a little too well, and when your fur is finally dry, they lead you up several floors until you reach the penthouse.
The space is shrouded in darkness, save for the twinkling lights of Busan’s cityscape outside. Every surface, from walls to ceiling, is dark and gleaming, with deep brown furniture blending into its shadows, the only touches of light come from minimal brass-coloured décor scattered sparingly around the room. The golden retrievers push you silently to the centre, where the wolf hybrid lounges lazily on a leather sofa smoking a cigar, his eyes fixed on you, never wavering. The retrievers do nothing more than bow silently and exit, leaving you alone under his cold gaze.
His stare penetrates you, inspecting every inch of your trembling body from your twitching cat ears down to your feet, while the heat from the nearby fireplace stings your fragile skin. You try to lower your gaze to the floor, hoping to escape the intensity of his, but his dark eyes pull yours back like they have their own magnetic force.
“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice low and rough.
You want to answer, you really do, but it’s as if your voice has been lost since the day you were taken, and your only response is the bristling of your tail in an instinctive attempt to protect yourself.
When it becomes clear you won’t speak, he’s not having any of it, and his voice booms, “I said, what’s your name!”
You flinch at the loud slap of his tone, a frightened hiss escaping your lips before you can stop it. His expression darkens, one eyebrow raised in irritation as his finger taps impatiently against the backrest.
Summoning every ounce of willpower, you manage to whisper your name.
“Speak up,” he snaps. “I’m not a fucking feline.”
You gulp, clearing your throat as best and silently you can, and try again with a parched throat, this time just loud enough for him to catch. He nods, seemingly satisfied for now.
“Strip,” he orders after a long pause, his cold eyes locked onto yours, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The last thing you want to do is obey, but you can see the anger rising rapidly in him again, and you know better than to push your luck. Trembling, you begin to undress, feeling utterly exposed even before your clothes hit the floor. He watches you with the cold detachment of someone examining an object rather than a person, and though you’re fully naked, your tail desperately tries to cover your most private parts.
The wolf hybrid sighs heavily as he stands, exuding a casual dominance that reminds you exactly who he is. He moves around you slowly, inspecting every inch of you while you stare blankly ahead, your ears twitching nervously to follow his movements.
He stops behind you, towering over your smaller frame, and you feel his cold hands glide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders lightly before his nose brushes against your neck up to the back of your ear. He inhales deeply, and you feel your legs grow weak with a dizzying wave of fear.
“You smell divine,” he mutters to himself, though the words ring loudly in your sensitive ears. “But something’s off.”
His hands trail back down your arms, his nose following the curve of your spine, your fur standing on end as goosebumps spread across your skin. He stops at your lower back, just before your tail begins, sniffing intently before, without warning, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. You yelp in shock and pain as he spits something metallic onto the floor beside you.
“Fucking bastards,” he growls, and you know he’s right. The implant he’s just bitten out was the one messing with your hormones, suppressing your natural cycle and heats, placed methodically where you can’t reach. Though the bite stings violently and blood trickles down your legs, you feel immediate relief now that the implant is finally out.
He runs his hand back up your spine, stopping when he reaches your neck, his fingers grazing over the small burn mark where your slave number is branded into your skin. The sensation makes you shudder violently, triggering nerves that are too raw to keep you standing still, but he seems entirely unbothered by your reaction.
“Alpha…” a voice interrupts. The door opens and a crocodile hybrid strides in without so much as a knock, freezing when his eyes land on you. Instinctively, you try to back away, only to bump into the wolf hybrid behind you, making you tense even further.
The crocodile hybrid doesn’t move, his gaze fixated on you with a predatory gleam in his eye. You hear a low growl rumbling from the wolf hybrid behind you, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked close to your sensitive ear, and then a deafening shot. You flinch and scream violently, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to cover them, but the damage is already done—your ears ring painfully as you crouch down, overwhelmed by the unbearable noise, tears collecting in your lash line.
It takes a moment for your senses to return, and when they do, you realise the wolf hybrid is crouched beside you, his legs brushing yours, his hands gently rubbing your upper arms soothingly as he murmurs, “I’m sorry, kitten,” kissing against the top of your head. All while the crocodile’s body lies crumpled on the floor in a growing pool of blood nearby.
You tremble uncontrollably, paralysed by fear, your mind struggling and utterly unable to process what happened around you. But the wolf hybrid doesn’t seem to care, helping you back up to your feet, brushing your soft hair over your shoulder to reveal the burn mark once again.
You barely dare to breathe as he steps away, but when you see him take an iron rod from near the fireplace and hold it in the flames, heating it until it glows angry red-hot, memories of the previous branding flashes through your mind like an alarm. You panic, your breath coming in desperate, frantic gasps. “No, no, no…” you chant quietly, but your body is frozen in place, still paralysed by the overwhelming terror.
The wolf hybrid, unfazed to the core, pulls the rod from the fire and walks towards you. Just before the hot metal touches your skin, branding you over the old mark, you hear his voice growl behind you, cold and final, “You’re mine now.”
You scream until your ears begin to bleed, your voice tearing through your throat as you collapse onto the cold, hard floor, the world around you fading into a welcoming, merciful blackness.
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masterlist • 2
a/n 3: hope you enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like!
a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for this fic 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open
Check out my other work here!
All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024 taglist: @jksusawife, @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @ericawantstoescape, @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok, @fluttershyvanilla
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cozage · 3 months ago
Note
COZAGE PLEASE MAKE A PART TWO RESOLUTION TO YOUR MOST RECENT ANGST STARTS BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS GNAWING ON FURNITURE SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
A/N:FINE I’LL FIX THE ANGST HERE YOU GO (sorry if it sucks and has lots of typos I had COVID while writing this) Characters: f reader x Ace, Law, Shanks Cw: Cuteness :)  Total word count: 3k
Disapproval Part 2
Part 1
Ace
It was a long time before you were alone again. You and William spent the rest of the day together, and he brought up your encounter with the pirates to everyone you ran into…minus the kiss he had seen. And every time the story was told and the people spoke of how dreadful they were, you hated this island and its people a little bit more. 
Whitebeard and his crew protected your island from the horrors of the Grand Line. Whenever you needed aid, the Whitebeard pirates were the ones to answer. And yet behind their backs, the people on this island acted as if the pirates were the scum of the earth. Some people, like William’s family, said it to their faces. 
You were pleasant through dinner. You smiled when stories were told. You spoke when you were asked a question. But your mind kept wandering back to Ace. To the pirates. They were really the only people you were ever excited to see, and the only ones who ever showed excitement at your arrival. 
And it wasn’t just Ace. Everyone in his division was kind to you. On the rare occasion another division was sent in Ace’s place, the leaders always sought you out and delivered a message. You weren’t just another face in the crowd to them. You were a person. 
When William finally bid you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, you retired quickly to your room. And once you were alone with your thoughts and all you had lost today, you couldn’t help the tears falling down your face. You weren’t even able to make it to your bed to muffle your sobs with a pillow before they began racking your body. 
“Bit of a weird reaction to spending the day with your betrothed.”
You spun on your heels toward the voice. You could only see a silhouette, but you would know that voice anywhere. 
“Ace-” your voice cracked as you spoke his name. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
He shrugged, but you could see the pain in his eyes as he stepped out from the shadows. “You always said you were going to move on if I kept leaving you behind.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Tears were already reforming in your eyes. Your chest ached for his touch again, but you resisted the urge to step closer to him. 
“Do you love him?”
“He’s a good man. He’s kind and loyal and always looks out for me” You couldn’t look at him as you said it. It felt wrong speaking about William here. You didn’t want to think about him now. 
Ace stepped toward you and reached out toward you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. 
“Do you love him?” he asked again. 
“I-” You tried to avert your gaze, but he held your chin firmly, forcing you to look at him as you answered his question. “I think I could, given enough time.”
Pain flashed across his face again, but he quickly recovered. “Do you want that?”
“What?”
“Do you want to love him? To marry him?”
You weren’t sure of the answer. Especially with Ace here in front of you. 
“I have to marry him,” you finally said. “My parents need me to do this.”
His eye twitched for a moment, and you could feel his hand warm against your cheek. “What do you need?”
“You.” The words were out of your mouth before you thought to change them. 
That was all he needed to hear. His lips came crashing down onto yours, passionate and hungry. His warmth enveloped you like a summer’s day. You only wanted him. You would only ever be his. Nobody else mattered at this moment. 
“Sail away with me,” he whispered, his fingers already tangled in your hair. 
You simply hushed him in return, trying to find his lips again. 
He indulged you with another kiss, this one longer and slower, as if he wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. As if he wanted to remember it. 
This was a goodbye kiss. 
“Ace-”
“Sail away with me,” he offered again, his lips caressing your jawline.
“You’re serious?” You resisted the urge to laugh. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
“I’ll go if you want me to.” He kissed your neck once, then twice, slowly moving toward your shoulder as he spoke. “Just tell me to go and I will leave you to this life. I won’t interfere anymore.”
You whimpered in response. This couldn’t be the last time you ever saw him. You needed him as much as you needed air. Your heart waited for him on that cliff every day, praying he would come back whenever he could. The very whisper of the Whitebeard pirates returning could turn your whole day around. 
“Or you can come with me.”
“I can’t.”
“You could.” His lips pressed against your collarbones as he said the words. 
You considered it. Being free on the ocean. The only thing to worry about was where you would go the next day. Having people around you who actually cared about you. Being with a crew loved you for who you were, not who they wanted you to be. 
“Okay,” you sighed, already seeing your new life play out before you.  
Ace grew deathly still, only his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Okay?”
You couldn’t look away from him. “I’ll go.”
He stared at you, refusing to believe it was so easy. 
But your mind was already pushed into high gear, trying to think of everything you would have to do before you left. “My parents will never let me go, so we’ll have to sneak away. I’ll have to write them letters. And I’ll have to write a letter to William. And pack some of my belongings.”
You pulled away from him and moved to your closet, planning what to take and what to leave behind. You had a few bags you could pack. Between you and Ace, you were sure you could carry it all. 
Ace stood in the center of your room, watching your whirlwind of preparation as you shoved things into bags and weighed the value of your items. 
“Wait.” He finally said. His eyes had never left you. 
You glanced over at him as you packed up a few shirts. He looked dreadfully pale, and your heart sank. The question he had asked was in the heat of the moment. 
You froze, watching him closely. “You weren’t being sincere in your offer?” 
“Of course I was!” He rushed to get the words out. “You really want to go?”
“I do.” You went back to packing. 
“You’d leave everything behind? For what?”
You shrugged. “A life on the seas.” 
“What changed?” He took a few steps toward you. “I’ve asked you every time, and the answer was always no. So what changed?”
He was going to make you say it. Of course he was. He had to hear it from your lips. Your actions weren’t enough. 
You stopped folding your clothes and turned to him. “Because I love you, Ace. You absolute buffoon, I love you! And I was never at risk of losing you- truly losing you- until now. And I can’t bear the thought of you going away and never coming back. I can’t imagine a life where I marry William and live a perfectly normal life and die an unimportant death and I never see you again. Is that a good enough reason for you?”
He stared at you, shocked by your sudden outburst. It was all the things you wanted to say to him since the first time you saw him at the bar. And now it was out in the open, hanging between the two of you. 
He rushed toward you, effortlessly scooping you into his arms and covering your face in kisses. When he finally put you down, you felt dizzy from the heat of his lips peppering your cheeks. 
“What else needs to be packed?” He asked.
You gave him a few tasks and pulled some paper from a drawer. You had a lot of apologizing to do for those you were leaving behind. 
A few hours later, in the dead of night, you walked hand in hand as you carried your belongings toward the pirate ship in the distance. The only thing that would remain of you on the island was two letters and an engagement ring. 
Ace squeezed your hand. You could see his beaming smile against the moonlight. “You know,” he said softly. “I couldn’t live without you either.”
Law
You went to your room as soon as you got home. Your parents didn’t object, didn’t even ask if you wanted dinner. You weren’t hungry anyway. 
You laid in bed, trying not to think of the day. You hated the way it had all turned out. The lack of freedom you had on this island due to your parents made you sick. You had no freedom here. No sense of self. 
You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but you woke to a periodic tapping on your window. For a moment, you were too scared to get out of bed. It could be anything or anyone. But after a few more taps on the window, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Besides, you were on the second story. Nobody could get you from outside your window. So you got up and peeked outside. 
Trafalgar Law was standing under your window. His golden eyes glimmered in the light of the full moon as they locked onto you. 
There was a moment of weightlessness, and then your bare feet slammed against the cobblestone path. You let out a yelp of surprise, but Law’s hands were around your mouth to muffle the sound. 
“Sorry,” he said. “I figured this would be faster than you trying to sneak out.”
“What the hell did you do?!” You looked back at your bedroom window, confused about how you had gotten here so fast. You were still in your pajamas and barefoot. Hardly the way you wanted Trafalgar Law to see you.
He scratched the back of his head as if it had just dawned on him that his actions might not be the best approach. “It’s, uh, my devil fruit ability.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “Can you put me back?”
“Do you want to go back?”
You scoffed. “I’d like some shoes, at the very least. And proper clothes.”
In the moonlight, you could see his cheeks pinken. “Right,” he said quickly. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Another weightless moment and you were back in your room. You had been expecting it this time and resisted the urge to let out another shout. You didn’t want to alert your parents to your movements or the individual outside. 
You wanted to do more than simply change clothes and put on shoes, but you didn’t want to keep Law waiting. You weren’t even sure how much time you would have with him as it was. 
Once you were as ready as you could be, you gave the window a little tap to alert him, and then gave him a thumbs up. 
A moment later, you were standing next to him. His hand instinctively went out and helped steady you. 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you said breathlessly. 
Law gave a smirk. “You’d be surprised.”
The two of you walked in silence for a while, waiting until you were out of sight from the house before you dared to speak. 
“Where are we going?” you finally asked.
“I had bigger plans for us, but the beach will do for tonight.” Law jerked his head down a side path through the forest. 
It was a path you knew well. It led to a small private alcove. Nobody would find you there. Especially at this time of night. 
“This is my favorite place on this island,” he said softly, leading you to a large blanket lying on the sand. “The view of the stars with the sound of the waves is unmatched. I always come here when I need to think. It’s the most peaceful place on the Grand Line.”
You snorted at his remark, looking up at the sky. “Surely there’s better places out there.”
“But this is my favorite.”
“I dunno why,” you grumbled. “People here give you no respect. You’ve helped these people more than they can count and they still refuse to treat you well.”
Law hummed in agreement at that. He couldn’t deny that the islanders weren’t always kind to him. “You speak as though you’re not one of them.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
Law’s eyes flicked over, studying you closely. “What do you mean?”
“I just wish I had more.” You turned to look at him. “There’s a whole world out there and I’m stuck in a sandwich shop.”
His eyebrow quirked up. “You don’t have to be.”
“I have nowhere to go and no one to go with. I’m stuck.”
His eyes returned to the sky, not saying anything. The two of you were quiet for a long while, staring at the sky lost in thought. It was the perfect night out, between the soft warm breeze and the waves crashing against the shore. You could feel your eyelids starting to close, lulling you back to sleep. 
“You could come with me.” Law’s voice jolted you awake, and for a second you thought you were dreaming. 
“What?”
His eyes were still on the stars. “My crew. You could join us and sail. We could go anywhere you wanted.”
You sat up, staring at him intensely. “You’re serious?”
He gave a nod in return. 
“I want to,” you said. “I will. I’ll go with you.” 
“We leave tomorrow.”
“I can’t leave tomorrow,” you frowned, shaking your head. There was too much to do to prepare. You couldn’t just vanish. “But…ask me again next time you’re here.”
He gave a nod of understanding. “I’ll be back in a week.”
You broke out in a smile, your mind already turning with possibilities and dreams. “I’ll be ready then.” 
One more week, and then you would be with Law. One more week, and then you would be a Heart Pirate.
Shanks
The next morning you left the house before your parents were down for breakfast. You didn’t want to face them after dinner last night. You didn’t want to think about what they had said to you, how Shanks had been with another woman. 
You wanted to be out of the house and distracted from your thoughts, so you took off early to make it to campus and study before class. You tried to think about anything other than that red-haired pirate. You had exams and projects coming up. Going over the concepts you researched and studied for, you walked right into another person. 
“A bit distracted, love?” You didn’t have to look up to know who was speaking. Out of all the places he could’ve been on this island, he had to be on this path. 
You took a quick step back and nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. “Hey Shanks. Sorry about that.”
His brow furrowed at your formality. “Everything okay?”
“Just on the way to class.” You tried your best to smile. “Busy day.”
“I’ve been trying to catch you since we got here. I’ve missed you.” He reached out to grab you, but you stepped out of his reach.
“It was good to see you.” You gave a quick look around, hoping nobody was watching you. “I don’t want to be late for class.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Your class doesn’t start for another two hours.”
Shit. You had told him that the last time he visited. His mind was too keen to forget small details like that.
His hand reached out again, this time grabbing your wrist. “What’s going on?”
“Please Shanks,” you tried to pull away, but he held firm. “Let me go.”
“What is this cold shoulder business? Did I do something to make you upset? This can’t be over-”
“Why don’t you ask that girl you were with at the market?” You don’t know what possessed you to do it, but you spat out the words to him. 
Shanks visibly recoiled from your words, pure confusion on his face. 
Confusion. Not guilt. Not shame. He had no idea what you were talking about. 
“My mother lied to me,” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh god, Shanks. I'm so-”
He pulled you into his chest, clasping his arms tightly around you. “Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I should’ve found you sooner. I’m sorry.” 
You buried your face in his chest, ashamed. “I believed them. Why did I believe them?”
“It’s okay.” He smoothed your hair as he held you. “We figured it out in the end, right?”
“I can’t stay here. We need to leave.” You pulled back, looking at him. 
He only gave a light laugh, unsure of what you meant. 
But that only made you more determined. “I’m serious, Shanks. I can’t stay here anymore. It’s suffocating. I’m dying here. I need life. I need adventure. I need you.”
The smallest spark of light gleaned in his eyes. “You want to sail? With me?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll be a pirate. An outlaw, wanted by the government. You’ll be-”
“I’ll be with you,” you said, cutting him off. “The only one who has ever made me feel like I am my own person. I’ll be with you. I don’t care about the rest.”
He broke into a grin. “You’re serious?”
You stood on the tips of your toes and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’m serious. When can we go?”
“As soon as you want to.”
The excitement of living flooded into your veins. “Now.”
The two of you took off toward the docks hand in hand. And you felt more at peace looking into the unknown than you had in your entire life.  
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milkhoon · 5 months ago
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Freak — L. Heeseung
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⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Pairing: Nerd!Heeseung (Evan) x AFAB!Reader
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Synopsis: You’ve heard a rumour about the university freak, but is he a freak when all he ever do is just existing? Well, maybe he is. In another term.
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Content warning: Heeseung as Evan. Nerd and shy Hee, afab readear, mention of bullying a bit (Heeseung or Evan being called freak and people not really befriending him), smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, cream pie, slow porn plotting and weird details, mild choking, name calling (doll, princess, good girl, slut). Let me know if I miss any.
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Word count: 4k
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Okay, this is obviously my very first post here and it’s a special one cause I write this for my best friend, my baby sister. She asked for this so I hope I won’t disappoint her. Pardon me and my typos or grammatical error too, not beta read yet and English is not my first language. Happiest birthday, A! We all love you so much. May your days get even better after this. XOXO.
© deepblue for the pic. | Minors do not interact.
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You have often heard whispers about a “freak” on your campus, but the identity of this figure remained elusive amidst the sea of eccentric individuals inhabiting this quaint little community. It wasn’t until a group project assignment from your professor that you were thrust into an unexpected partnership with a certain Evan.
“Wow, he’s utterly heartless! How could he match you with a freak?” your closest friends exclaimed, perplexed by the professor’s choice.
“A freak?” you queried, raising an inquisitive brow at your friend’s assertion.
“Yes, a freak. Evan is infamous for his weirdness,” your friend continued. "Just observe his attire! Exceptionally dated with thick-rimmed glasses framing his face. And let’s not forget his near-silent demeanor! He rarely engages with anyone!” she elucidated, noting the perplexity on your face.
Was that enough justification for everyone to label Evan as a freak? Who’s to say that the man isn’t simply reserved? Or perhaps he struggles with mental health issues that remain enigmatic to others? You found the rumor weird instead.
“Perhaps he’s just shy. That’s all," you attempted to brush off your friend’s remarks, bidding farewell politely and veering towards a different corridor.
Your destination was to seek out Evan. Absent from the class for undisclosed reasons, your intuition guided you to the library, rumored to be the sanctuary for the misfits and intellectuals alike.
“Hi… you are Evan, right?” you ventured, addressing the figure that resembled your friend’s description. Clad in an old fashioned clothes — an oversized woolen sweater paired with threadbare denims, complemented by circular spectacles framing his slender frame.
Your outstretched hand hesitated momentarily as Evan stood frozen in place, a bewildered and startled expression etched across his features. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh, I’m sorry. I am (Y/N). We were meant to attend the same class earlier, yet you were absent. Our professor assigned us a collaborative project. I propose we talk about AI and its impact on artists. Though it may sound cliché, the subject matter is currently hot and widely discussed, right?”
Evan’s ears rang with a deafening silence that drowned out your words, his body tensed in an icy grip. His gaze remained fixed upon your countenance, a figure that had often pervaded his reveries with its ethereal allure.
“Yeah, hot and widely discussed,” he echoed, not in concurrence but to describe the allure you exuded. Hot. Sexy and attractive. Unbeknownst to you, Evan’s subconscious prompted him to discreetly graze his inner cheek, restraining a stray droplet of saliva.
“Great! Let’s meet at Cafe XX this afternoon since we agreed on our project’s topic then!" you said — or rather, not realizing what the man in front of you was thinking. You reached into your bag for a moment and handed him your card, “My number is written here. Call me if you need anything!”
Accepting the card timidly, Evan nodded meekly, he didn’t want you to think he looked stupid.
“Bye, Evan!” you waved a final farewell, departing the library’s confines.
Evan held the business card you gave him. Y/N. Y/F/N. He brought the card closer to his nose and breathed in your lingering scent. Sweet.
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You were supposed to meet with Evan this afternoon as per your agreement, but suddenly, a heavy rain shower engulfed the earth without any warning. The sky, previously serene, now bore the burden of heavy rain, casting a pall of uncertainty over the horizon and your heart.
The task needed to be completed within a week, yet you found yourself a day behind the seven-day deadline. You nervously nibbled on your nails, not truly biting, just place the tips of your teeth to your finger. A hint of worry lingered. With one hand holding your phone, you messaged Evan.
You: It seems like we can't work on the task right now. The rain is pouring heavily here. How about tomorrow?
Evan: Oh… Evan: Don't worry. Evan: I can come to your place.
You: My place?
Evan: Don't get me wrong. Evan: I know you can't go out now, so let me. I don't mind the rain. Evan: I mean for us to finish the task quickly.
You: Okay. You: Here's my address. Just come up to the second floor. It's the farthest room. Knock when you arrive.
You breathed a sigh of relief. Evan’s idea wasn’t so bad. If you could finalize the concept today, the next six days wouldn’t pose any problem at all.
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YY Street. Heeseung was familiar with the address you had sent. No, do not accuse him of being a stalker! He had never stalked anyone. He just happened to have seen you on that street, entering a three-story building.
Heeseung couldn’t fathom where all the sudden courage had come from that led him to offer the idea of coming to your place. It seemed like he had gone mad; you were driving him further into madness. An anxious restlessness consumed him as he made his way towards your place.
Nothing strange would happen. Yes, nothing would happen.
Repeatedly reassuring himself with those words like mantra, he suddenly found himself standing in front of the building where you lived. The taxi he had ordered departed a minute ago. His feet felt heavy, stepping one by one like a fool.
His hand timidly knocked on the door after successfully passing through the lobby guarded by a vigilant security, which only added to his nervousness. It felt akin to meeting a stern future in-law.
He could hear you shouting from inside, not too loudly, before the brown door creaked open slightly, revealing you peering out.
“Hey, Evan!” you greeted him cheerfully, opening the door wider and welcoming him inside.
Nothing strange would happen. Yes, nothing would happen.
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Evan followed behind you like a duckling, then opted to sit on the floor instead of the sofa, perhaps because it was closer to the table. You offered him a drink, and in his shy manner, he left the choice to you. So, you made him a cup of hot chocolate. He must have been cold from braving the rain. Afterwards, you sat by his side, unaware of the palpable tension in his breath.
One hour. Two hours. Five hours passed by quickly for you. Evan was undeniably a shy man. He didn’t speak much, and when he tried, his voice came out squeaky and timid. Unconsciously, you giggled along with your cup of hot chocolate. He was adorable. The rumors about him were truly unfounded.
Oh, at least, that’s what you thought until you realized that the rain showed no signs of subsiding. In fact, it intensified, and you noticed that your room heater wasn’t working properly. You should have complained to the management and requested a maintenance visit. The chilly night air seeping in through the window crevices began to make you shiver. The crop top you wore clearly wasn’t helping, but you felt too lazy to change into warmer clothing, especially with a guest present.
Evan glanced in your direction as you hugged yourself, arms crossed and rubbing your sides. Summoning his courage once more, he asked, “Are you cold?”
Your head automatically turned towards him, lips rounding briefly after hearing Evan’s question. His voice didn’t waver like before. You simply nodded. The rain persisted, the room heater wasn’t functioning properly, and your attire wasn’t providing much warmth. Of course, you were cold.
Approaching you, not too closely, he reached for your hand, his much larger hand enveloping yours. You jumped in surprise but allowed him to hold your hand. You were confident he had good intentions, right?
For a few minutes, everything was quiet, but his hand continued to grip yours and stroke it, providing warmth.
His earnest and genuine demeanor touched you, although it was just a simple gesture. Unconsciously, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. He averted his gaze, now looking at you as if asking if you needed something. In a shy gesture, you unexpectedly kissed his cheek.
He froze, you froze. After a soft exhale, you said, “Um… thank you? You’re so sweet. I couldn’t resist, sorry.”
For a moment, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, “Thank you?” was all that came out. You nodded.
“Because you helped me feel warmer,” you explained with a smile. He looked down, his ears turning red, a sign of his embarrassment.
“I can help you feel warmer if you want,” Evan offered in a very soft voice, almost inaudible if you weren’t the only two present in the room. If you hadn’t been paying attention or if you hadn’t been unconsciously focused on him all this time.
“How would you warm me up?” you inquired, prompting him to lift his head again. His round eyes sparkled in the light, truly endearing. It was as if he was questioning you and seeking permission. You nodded faintly.
Still with his hands clasped together, Evan cut the distance between you before one hand came under your chin; bringing you into a small kiss. He kissed your lips, then opened his eyes to reveal his round eyes again. Seeing no resistance from you, he continued. Sucking your lips, kissing them gently before his tongue taps your row of teeth—asking permission to enter. You were happy to welcome his tongue, buying it with yours. Fight for dominance for a while until you finally give in. He explores your entire oral cavity. Then you take more until your saliva drips down, until you run out of breath and slap his chest slowly. That’s when he broke the kiss. But it didn’t stop there, he didn’t let you breathe properly because next, he placed small kisses on the side of your jaw, then down to your neck. Giving you the same small kisses but with fewer sucks and nibbles, you couldn’t help but moan. Damn, he’s really good.
He enjoys every inch of your body, not leaving a single inch without being gently touched. Then, he took you onto his lap. His arms are wrapped intimately around your waist while he himself is busy giving licks to your nipples which are starting to perk up because of the cold air and of course because of arousal. He moved his tongue up and down, not finding the fibers of the clothes still wrapped around your body bothering. He only lifted your crop top a little afterward to do the same to the other nipple. This continues until he feels satisfied licking and sucking your nipples. His other hand suddenly slipped into the mini skirt you were wearing, rubbing your thigh gently but moving upwards. Getting closer to the center of your body. Playing with the hem of your panties, moving to the middle and pressing your lips. He could feel the cotton cloth was wet, he smiled crookedly.
You couldn’t open your eyes properly, not with all Evan’s touches everywhere. When you opened your eyes, it was clear that he was looking at you, writhing in amusement. With a charming smile. He would definitely look better without glasses, you thought. Taking off the glasses that framed his face. Choked up when you saw that his face was even more handsome like this, up close. You moved forward, taking him into a deep, hot kiss as you moved back and forth. Grinding on his thighs.
“Slow down, doll. The night is still young,” he insited while restraining your movements by locking your waist. “I will make sure you are ready first, okay?” he continued the activities that were previously disrupted.
This time he didn’t just rub the outside of your underwear but forced his way inside. Play with your clitoris before inserting a finger. Your eyes rolled, a suppressed moan finally coming out. Tears almost coming out.
“Hurts...” you moaned softly, he stroked your hair gently. Trying to calm you down.
“Shhhh... it’s going to hurt more if I don’t do this, you know it well, princess.” that’s what happened before he moved his fingers forward and back, slowly, slowly and then faster with each passing second. He also added two more fingers into your vagina, making scissor-like movements to prepare you. This continues until the walls of your vagina, which at first were very tight and sucked his fingers, making him wince and think about what would happen if he entered you directly, finally twitch.
“I'm close!” you squealed.
“Take it out, doll. Be a good girl and let it out for me.” he murmurs, still continuing to pound your pussy rapidly with his slender fingers. Not long after, the white liquid came out, soaking your panties which weren’t completely removed as well as Evan’s pants which he was still wearing.
With a satisfied smile, Evan pulled out his fingers from your twisted love tunnel, causing you to whimper with the loss of stimulation. You were drenched in your juices and the scent was intoxicating. He cleaned your thighs with a quick sweep of his thumb, savoring the taste before licking it off.
“Good girl,” he praised affectionately while maintaining eye contact, pushing the hair off your face. He leaned in, giving you another sensual, lust-filled kiss, and then positioned his thick, pulsating cock at your entrance.
The hand that had previously clutching your nape now slid up to cup your cheek. He pushed your panties aside and lower his pants. With a practiced ease, he then forced into you with a slick pop, your walls encircling his member. There was a moment of breathlessness, your eyes locking as he began to move within. In and out, filling you with each stroke as your legs gripped him, keeping him close.
The rhythm steadily built, a counterpoint to your growing sounds of delight. Your nails raked at his shoulders, leaving red trails as you clung to him. Then, the pressure within you seemed to reach the breaking point, a build-up of a storm threatening to burst.
Gasping for breath, you cried out, “Evan, I’m going to… I’m going to...”
Evan responded by increasing the pace, pounding into you mercilessly, his own climax beckoning. “Cum for me, doll,” he growled raggedly, the provocative words adding fuel to the fire that burned within.
The storm broke, the walls of yours being constricted violently, your orgasm crashing through. Keened, your nails digging into his skin, body bucking wildly matched his frenzied tempo, giving everything you had. The sheets beneath began to move, twisted and tangled as you chased the pinnacle of pleasure.
With a deep groan, he stiffened, his own culmination arrived, bathing both of you in his hot seed. He remained inside, holding you tightly as he rode the aftershocks.
Evan suddenly flipped you, making your hair spilling across the bed in a disheveled mess. He pulled out of you slowly, leaving you slick and wanting. As he did, you shifted, your hips still twitching with the lingering sensation of pleasure.
“Don’t be such a greedy slut, stop moving! I’m not done yet,” Evan warned you in a husky voice you never thought would heard before. He gripped your neck, not tight enough to cut off air but close enough to make you aware of his grip. It was a stark contrast to the tender moments, but his desire for control and intimacy was intertwined.
You shivered, your heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. You nodded, indicating your consent. Evan shifted behind you, positioning himself at you entrance once more. “Ready for more, princess?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear.
You moaned her response, your body aching for the promised fulfillment. Evan thrust back into you, his grip on your neck steady and firm. The dual sensation of the tight hold and his penetration built a crescendo of arousal within your again. Your mind swam in a hazy mix of trust, risk, and lust.
His movements were rougher this time, the echo of their sounds in the bedroom sharp and animalistic. Evan’s grunts filled the room, mingling with your whimpers and moans, punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
You clawed at the bed, nails leaving crescent marks in desperation to find purchase. The friction of his sinful length against your inner walls whipped you closer.
“Evan... I’m close... again,” you gasped, feeling him swell inside. Evan pounded into you even relentlessly, his thrusts unyielding as he guided you to the edge. In a final surge, his release tore through, spilling into you once more.
He then pulled you into his arms after, both of you sprawled on the rumpled sheets. His fingers tangled in your hair, rubbing the tension from your scalp.
You cradled against him, your body still shivering from the intensity of the lovemaking. “You did a great job, princess,” Evan cooed, tugging the strands of your hair playfully, a small smile forming on his lips. He kissed your temple repeatedly as if saying sorry for the brief rude moment before.
Well, maybe your friend was right. He is indeed a freak. But in different term, only for you to notice.
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manikas-whims · 5 months ago
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Hi hi!💕 can i request headcanons of sth like "What if we, reader, find a kitten in the rain (& the lads men reactions)" if possible n tyyyy😊
omg this is such a cute idea 🥹 thanks for requesting this ♡ and i hope you like these!
LADS men react to you taking in a kitten
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ZAYNE
❄️ Zayne’s eyes are literally sparkling when he walks into your house and sees the kitten. From the way he balls his palms into fists, you can tell just how much he wants to approach it but the kitten hisses at him and hides behind the sofa.
❄️ As usual, the kitten is afraid of him. And it saddens you because his evol aside, Zayne is such a warm person, and deserves nothing but affection.
❄️ You bring out some snacks and feed the kitten. Then encourage Zayne to try it too.
❄️ He is hesitant but tries. Yet the kitten doesn't approach him like it does when you're feeding it.
❄️ Next he tries tossing it near him. The kitten is cautious, waiting for a while before running on its tiny, shaky feet towards the treat, and eating it. This isn't a big leap but it's better than nothing, and Zayne can't help but smile at this small victory.
❄️ Few more hours in, you pick up the kitten from your own lap and drop it into Zayne’s. He's fidgeting, unsure of where to put his hands. “I don't think this will work.” He says.
❄️ “Just stay calm.” You tell him. “Animals tend to read emotions. If you're scared, it'll be scared too.”
❄️ Its funny watching the usually calm and collected doctor struggling with something so small it can fit in his coat’s pocket.
❄️ Tentatively he runs a finger over the kitten’s lil head. It flinches initially, then relaxes. Stunned, Zayne stares at you.
❄️ You giggle at the disbelief on his face and encourage him to go on.
❄️ “Okay.” He nods like an obedient child and tries again. This time he scratches behind its ears, and to his immense surprise and exhilaration, the kitten mewls and purrs.
❄️ Zayne looks up at you as if you to say “look! i did it!”
❄️ You pat his back with pride and smile.
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XAVIER
⭐ Like usual, Xavier stops by your home one evening because he's run out of food, and you are generous enough to share your amazing cooking with him.
⭐ Only this time, he finds a little kitten wreaking havoc around your living room. Toppling things from the tables, sharpening its claws on the couch, biting your slippers..you name it!
⭐ You look at him with what you believe is your most convincing pleading expression. He chuckles in response and decides to help out.
⭐ Within minutes he has captured the feline outlaw and to your utter disbelief, the kitten is now seated peacefully in Xavier's lap, making biscuits in the fabric of his sweatpants.
⭐ He did say that little animals love to flock around him but seeing is believing. And no matter how many times you see it happen, you're still a little shocked at how easy it is for him. He's like a disney princess who can sing songs and summon animals into doing his bidding.
⭐ You are used to Xavier showing up at your door for food, so you already had extra prepared. You made sure to add in some meat dishes since Xavier loves those.
⭐ Now as Xavier eats his share, he occasionally offers the kitten small, mashed chunks of meat. And looking at the two side by side, you can't distinguish between them. It's as if you have two cats in your life, except one of them is bigger, stronger and loves fighting wanderers.
⭐ Xavier takes note of your smile and blinks at you. “What is it?”
⭐ “Nothing.” You simply giggle and teasingly rub his head.
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RAFAYEL
🌊 Rafayel is merely passing by the area and so he decides to check up on you. He has brought you food from the finest of places in Linkon. But the moment you let him in, he almost jumps at the sight of a kitten rolling on the floor.
🌊 “Why would you feed this little demon?” He is curling his lips in disgust, standing behind you to shield himself from the so-called “demon”.
🌊 His dislike and anxious behaviour spurs the kitten as well, and it hisses at him. Of course Rafayel hisses back.
🌊 It takes a lot of patience and breathing exercises for you to separate them and make them understand they aren't a threat to one another.
🌊 Surprisingly, the kitten is the first one to make peace. That, and it kinda likes Rafayel’s perfume. It meows and tries rubbing its tiny body against his white pants. And for a moment, Rafayel seems to be accepting the gesture. Then he realises his white pants might get dirty and steps away.
🌊 He won't admit it out loud but he's starting to warm his heart to the tiny feline. The kitten is basically his baby now.
🌊 “I got some toys for the demon!” He announces as he randomly shows up at your house with a variety of toys. If you point it out he'll tell you otherwise but he definitely has a happy grin when he sees the kitten playing with the toys. However, he’ll get equally annoyed if the kitten doesn’t play with them after all the money and time he spent on buying them.
🌊 “You’ve grown quite close.” You comment airily.
🌊 “You’re sorely mistaken.” He’s immediately scooting away from the small being but also waving a bell around it. “We are natural enemies.”
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clanborn · 2 months ago
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star climax that i would personally enjoy: splashtail's got frostpaw pinned in their final confrontation, he's this close to finally killing her, and all of frostpaw's fears culminate and leave her frozen, unable to struggle free. curlfeather, through sheer willpower ignited by this immediate threat to her daughter's life, summons all the energy she can muster to project her image into the physical world, visible to both splash and frost. her sheer fury, her mangled corpse--here, present, clawing her way out of splashtail's dreams and into a waking nightmare, here to drag him down to hell with her--spooks splashtail to the core. this either frightens him so bad he suffers cardiac arrest, or he instantly bolts and abandons the clans forever (for the case where he could be brought back as a villain who is ideally no longer lame). once more, curlfeather saves frostpaw's life, this time from beyond the grave, so great is her love for her daughter. with the image of her bloodied mother burned in her mind, frostpaw's conflicted feelings bubble to the surface, feelings she's desperately forced underneath a layer of anger and resentment. frostpaw faces the truth: that her mother manipulated her for her own gain, but also that her mother loved her, and ultimately cared for frostpaw more than her own life. curlfeather was not entirely good or bad, she was simply just a cat, a flawed one, one capable of both good and bad things. hidden in all of her misdeeds was a cat that could be forgiven--and in turn, frostpaw too could be forgiven, and no longer needs to blame herself for every misfortune that had befallen her and her clan. frostpaw is also just a cat, a child under incredible duress, forced to make decisions that no child should have to make. she thinks of every cat that pushed that responsibility onto her--yes, her mother, but also splashtail, her older clanmates, every clan cat around the lake that turned a blind eye to her desperation. even starclan--her all knowing, benevolent ancestors--had stood by while she suffered, had caused her suffering, had used her not unlike the way curlfeather had. what made them different? why was curlfeather punished by cats who were no better? why was frostpaw punished for doing everything right? what distinction did starclan make between "good" and "bad" when all cats were capable of both, including starclan, in all its alleged, unerring kindness?
frostpaw once again does starclan's bidding, touches her nose to the moonpool and receives her nine lives. with each life, cats flash before her vision--harelight, riverstar, jayclaw--but they aren't the cats she sees. in her mind she sees curlfeather, blood on her paws and love in her eyes, and newly named froststar decides what sort of leader she will be. this is the last time she will follow starclan's path, no more will riverclan be subject to their will and their hypocrisies. relying on starclan is what destroyed them, their ancestors standing idle as riverclan tore itself apart for their favor. no more will riverclan force warriors and apprentices in certain roles, no more will it allow complacency, letting desperate voices go unheard. splashtail rejected starclan, but that is not what drove his bloodthirst and desire for power. under froststar's leadership, power would not solely lie in the paws of her and starclan, but shared among her clanmates, unable to be ripped away by a lone instigator, shattered by a single break in the chain.
maybe she'll be the kind of leader curlfeather wanted to be. maybe she'll be better. either way, froststar will lead riverclan into a golden dawn.
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waldau-archived · 1 year ago
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ruminations — jeon wonwoo | 1,289 words | fluff
gender neutral reader. warnings: alcohol.
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you're about to get up from the sofa and go to the bathroom to carry out your nighttime routine when the doorbell rings. that's odd; you're not expecting anyone at the moment.
but when you open the door, you see your tall boyfriend standing in front of you, being held up by his best friend, mingyu. literally being held up in the sense that mingyu has an arm around his waist and his other hand on wonwoo's back. wonwoo looks like he's putting zero effort into standing. his eyes widen when he looks at you, but he says nothing.
right. your boyfriend had gone for a party with the rest of his bandmates, and you'd asked him if he wanted to spend the night at your place afterwards, but you didn't expect him to be here almost an hour before the party ended.
you open your mouth, a couple of questions on your tongue, but mingyu shakes his head. "don't make him cry."
you're bemused by what he's said. "why...would i do that?"
"not that you'd— he's very wound up today. he just looks like he's going to cry at any moment."
you look at wonwoo. he's looking at you very seriously, like his actions are going to depend on what you're going to say next.
"hi, baby," you say carefully. wonwoo moves out of mingyu's grasp and into yours.
you're hardly as strong as mingyu, and you admit it takes quite some effort to make sure wonwoo doesn't fall. "just how much did he have?" you ask mingyu. wonwoo's hand finds its way to yours, fingers intertwining.
"not much at first, but then he lost a bet to hoshi, and..."
you tut. wonwoo is never really into playing drinking games. "you didn't stop him?"
"i would have, if we had been on the same team. it was funny watching him tug joshua's hair again and again."
you chuckle. "you're evil, you know that?"
mingyu's about to say something when wonwoo mumbles. "what's that?" you ask him.
"tired."
"of course you are. mingyu, thank you so much for—"
"hey, no problem. i know he'd do the same for me."
"get a girl first," wonwoo says, looking at his friend. you let out a surprised laugh while mingyu stands there with his mouth open.
"that's how you show your thanks to me?"
you push wonwoo inside, bidding mingyu goodnight before he shuts the door. "i think you need to sleep before the alcohol really hits you," you say. wonwoo hasn't let go of your hand even now.
you decide to take him into the kitchen to make him sit for a while and see if he needs some water, but he stands resolutely when you try to tug him forward.
"what is it?" you ask gently.
he blinks at you. "you look really good."
your words catch in your throat. it's not very often that wonwoo's verbal with his affection. "aw. thank you, wonwoo," you say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
he shakes his head. "i mean it. did you know you look really pretty tonight?"
"now i do. thank you, baby. do you want some water?"
he shakes his head again, and doesn't budge when you try to get him into the kitchen.
"something on your mind?"
wonwoo simply takes his hand out of yours and holds your face with both his hands, tilting your head up so you face him. he looks tired, like he said, but his brown eyes are sparkling under his glasses. you can't tell if it's from the light, or—
"do you believe in reincarnation?"
"huh?"
"do you...believe in reincarnation?"
you rest your hands on wonwoo's, taking them off your face so you can talk easier, but you don't let go. "where did that come from?"
"i asked you first."
you sigh. "well...no."
wonwoo's lips part, and you realize those sparkles in his eyes are unshed tears which are now collecting along his waterline. "oh," he says in a small voice.
you're beyond confused. what the hell happened for mingyu to warn you not to make him cry? "wonwoo?" when he doesn't respond, you sink down to the ground and pull him, so he's sitting cross-legged in front of you. you're still holding onto his hands like they're a lifeline. "what made you ask me that?"
he shrugs and huffs. so you've hit some sore spot you didn't even know existed. "i'm taking off your glasses, okay?" he says nothing when you reach forward to slide them off his face and hook them to the collar of your shirt. then you push his hair back from his face.
"stop," he mumbles, but he doesn't make any effort to push you away.
"what? sorry, am i annoying you? do you want to go to bed?"
"no. this. being...cute."
"i'm just taking care of you? i haven't even done anything yet."
wonwoo sighs and takes one of your hands again, tracing it with his thumb.
you stand up, hoping he'll keep holding your hand so you can pull him to his feet. instead, he remains put in his place and that makes you fall into his lap.
"wonwoo?"
"minghao said something about...if he could become a mosquito, he'd trouble jun in every life. and i wondered if...you know."
you wait for him to gather his words, even though you think you know where this is headed.
"if you'd be with me in every life, too. but now..."
oh. "won—"
"it's okay. i'll...manage."
you can't help but giggle. he looks at you like you've offended him. "you're acting like i made my choice," you explain.
"didn't you?"
you trace the bridge of his nose. he closes his eyes. "wonwoo," you say slowly. you need to think it through, not hurt him. it's not like you've been dating very long; a year is just enough time for you to be serious about your relationship, but the fact that he's been thinking about being together in all your other lives too...
"hm."
"do you really see us together in every life?"
"you don't."
"i never said that."
"but you just said that you don't believe in—"
"i don't, but if i could always be with you...then i don't mind."
it's magical, seeing the hurt in his eyes vanish and be replaced by almost childlike wonder. "you'd...always be with me?"
"if i could trouble you forever, yes."
he laughs. he looks really good, you realize, sitting in your apartment, his hair hair all askew and his hands locked around your waist. the fact that he came back to you, to your place, and took up your offer instead of being hungover all by himself makes your heart warm.
"did i ever tell you?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.
"probably not?"
"i love you."
it's not often that you say this particular phrase to each other, because you're both better at actions than words, but you think this is a good time to say them.
wonwoo smiles dopily at you, and you can almost picture your future with him if you close your eyes. the thought makes you tingly inside, and even though he probably won't remember everything he's said tonight, you can't help but feel like your heart is beating loud enough for him to hear.
wonwoo pulls you closer, and you're filled with the sudden urge to press yourself as close to him as possible so this moment never passes. "i have another question."
"ask me after you change into something more comfortable than your jeans?"
"it won't take long." he tilts your chin down and you're so, so gone. "would you still love me if i was a worm?"
"...hoshi's so dead."
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