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uvobreakmylegs · 5 months ago

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As Fate Would Have it

red thread of fate soulmate! AU with Razor x reader

this fic now has a Part 2 written by @hypnoswrites! please read Man-Made Destiny once you've read this part!

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of death

Word Count: 12.2k words

He hadn't said anything to you.

After returning to your hotel room only to immediately be jumped by the man who had clearly been laying in wait for you, he had yet to utter a single word, instead staying quiet through the process of grabbing and restraining you. Even when you had tried to kick and scream when you realized that you were being attacked, he didn't explain anything or mutter out any curses when you were successful in hitting him a few times. Not even to mock you when it was clear that you were lacking the strength needed to do any sort of damage to him.

It was only for a short period of time that your limbs were free, and now you were laying on the hotel bed, your wrists bound behind your back, your ankles tied together and a washcloth from the bathroom having been forced into your mouth in order to keep you quiet.

Earlier you were crying and screaming into the material of the makeshift gag, the terror of the situation overtaking you. But when nothing further happened, you managed to calm down enough to keep quiet, and now you were waiting for what he intended to do from here. With how tightly he had bound you, there was no scenario where you got out of your constraints on your own. Which meant there were only two possibilities: a third party would find and untie you, or he would untie you himself.

The first possibility seemed incredibly unlikely.

That second possibility seemed like it would only happen if he viewed you in a positive light.

So you stayed quiet, hoping that your silence would be interpreted as submission.

Currently the man was across from where you lay on the bed, sitting forward in the chair that had been placed in front of the window. In the initial attack, all you had truly registered was how much taller and stronger he was in the way he had picked you up and threw you onto the bed without any effort. Now that things had calmed down and you were trying to be smart about the moves you made, you were able to take in the details you hadn't noticed before. Like his short, spiky purple hair and his prominent cheekbones.

The way the light from the nearby lamp hit him somehow made him feel even more intimidating than he already was, the shadows almost creating an ominous aura about him. As if you weren't scared enough of him already.

At least he wasn't touching you anymore. After he'd gagged you, his hands stayed on you while you continued to struggle. And even after your struggles had died down completely, they stayed there, occasionally to gliding up and down your body while he stared at you.

What exactly those dark eyes were seeing when he stared at you in that way that felt so intense, you couldn't begin to imagine.

It was a relatively recent development that he'd had enough of it and moved away from the bed, shifting the blinds of the window slightly to peek out before sitting down across from you, watching you with a pensive look on his face.

Being that you were now in a calmer state, you wished you could ask him why he was doing this. What he wanted and what he planned to do with you.

…. It wasn't completely true that you wanted to know the answer to the last one; you were too scared that he would tell you that he planned on ending your life. Or maybe he was planning on selling you. Both of those things happening was also a possibility.

How much time had passed since you had first entered your room was unclear – you kept your gaze on him, waiting to see if and when he would act.

When that time finally came and he did speak, it surprised you.

“This must be terrible for you.”

You blinked when you heard his voice for the first time, but continued to keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I kept thinking of what I should say,” he told you, “what I could say to make this easier on you, so you could understand what's going on. And while I don't think that I'm terrible when it comes to words, I've never found myself more stumped than I am right now.”

He sighed as he added “if only you could see it, or if I didn't have to get back so quick, it wouldn't be this way. I wouldn't have needed to do this to you.”

'Do this'?

Tears began to fill your eyes again, and despite how you had told yourself to keep quiet, you tried to speak. Desperation drove you to beg for your life, something that could've been a horrible decision if he was easily angered, but his eyebrows raised slightly while he hummed.

“You want to say something?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly.

He considered you a moment before he got to his feet, returning to sit on the edge of the bed and placing one hand firmly on your shoulder.

“I'll take this out,” he began, motioning to the washcloth before adding “but make sure you don't scream. It'll only end badly for you.”

You nodded again, this time in a much more steady manner as you were desperate to show that you were calm and wanted to cooperate.

The man was satisfied with that, and he pulled the washcloth out of your mouth, freeing your tongue from the taste and texture of the heavy fabric that had grown wet from your saliva. You couldn't help but cough for a moment, relieved to get that out of your mouth. All the while he kept that hand on your shoulder while also being prepared to gag you again if you got too loud.

But you followed his instruction, and he seemed to relax some when moments passed and you didn't start screaming.

Then you spoke to him.

“Sir,” you began, “please don't kill me.”

At that, he smiled.

“Ah, that was what you were worried about, was it?”

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as he said “don't worry. You aren't going to die.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

He pulled you up into a sitting position and moved your legs so they were placed over his lap. With how your wrists and ankles were still bound, it felt awkward, but you didn't dare make any move to try and free yourself. Not right now.

“It would be terrible for me if you died,” he said, “so believe me when I say that's the last thing I could ever want.”

You didn't understand how exactly that could be bad for him, but you nodded as if you did.

“Um, so,” you began, “can I ask what exactly it is that you do want?”

“For you to come with me.”

“Come with you? Wh-where?��

“An island.”

“… An island?”

He saw the way your eyebrows furrowed and patted you on the cheek as he said “I feel all of this is something that will make more sense if you see it rather than have me explain it to you. So while it might be confusing for now, I promise it will become clear in time.”

“For now,” he continued, “I need your full cooperation.”

“….. So you can take me to an island?”

“Yes.”

You wanted to ask what happened after that, but he spoke again before you were able to.

“You can't use nen, so we'll need to go the long way to get there,” he said, “we'll be leaving tomorrow.”

What the fuck is nen?

That thought flashed through your head before you focused on the second part of his sentence: leaving tomorrow?

“I-I'm supposed to head back home tomorrow,” you told him, “people will notice when I don't come back.”

“Then we'll have to get going early.”

He smiled as he said that, speaking as though this was a last-minute trip that you were a willing participant in and brushing off what you said completely. Like the fact that there were people who would notice once you were gone wasn't a concern to him. He didn't care that he was taking you away from them. He didn't care that you didn't want to go with him.

And there was nothing you could do about that. After all, the first thing this man had done was prove to you that you couldn't fight him off.

As much as you wanted to scream and yell at him to let you go or cry out for help in the hopes your neighbors would hear you and call for help on your behalf, at best all that would do was get that washcloth stuffed inside your mouth again, and that was at best. If you wanted any chance of getting away from this man, you needed to get him to trust you enough so his guard relaxed.

It was the only way.

“With that said, we should get some sleep,” he told you, patting you on the cheek again while he added “we have a long drive ahead of us, and once we start, I want to make as few stops as possible.”

He gently pushed you back onto the mattress before moving your legs off of his lap and standing back up.

You were compelled to speak again when he began to walk away.

“Can I ask one last question?”

He paused, turning to look at you as he said “of course.”

“Who….. Who are you?”

He smiled at you and answered with his name.

“Razor.”

There was little sleep to be had that night. While the bed in the hotel room was incredibly soft and comfortable, it was hard to sleep when you had a kidnapper nearly twice your size laying next to you. The feeling was made worse during the times of the night when he put a hand on you again, running up and down your side with experimental touches. He knew you were awake during those times as well, as more often than not you weren't able to keep in the scared noises that came from your mouth whenever his hand brushed near your neck or went lower than your stomach, still fearful of his intentions. He didn't reprimand you, likely because you were doing your best to be quiet. But he didn't stop either, not seeming to care at all how much this was distressing you. To top it off, your arms remained bound, forcing you to try and rest in an uncomfortable position that guaranteed you would lose sleep no matter how soft the mattress was.

Dawn had barely cracked when Razor got up, shaking you awake when it felt like you had just barely gotten to sleep. Your tiredness was definitely showing even with how hard you tried to be alert, because he chuckled at you.

“Don't worry,” he told you, “you can sleep in the car if you need to.”

However, the moment you were placed in the passenger's seat, you were wide awake again. And as Razor drove you away from your hotel and down the highway in the opposite direction of the airport, despair settled in the pit of your stomach. You were being kidnapped, and you were doing nothing to stop it because there simply wasn't anything you could do.

So you sat there silently with your hands bound again as he took you, and the only saving grace of the situation was the fact that he'd tied them in front so you were a bit more comfortable this time.

Razor stayed silent as well while he kept his focus on the road.

An entire day passed with barely anything being said. You didn't say anything unless he spoke up first, and when you did speak, it was just to let out a “yes” or an “okay” to whatever he told you to do. Like when he tossed you a protein bar and told you to eat, or when he told you to keep your hands on your lap so no one passing by might catch sight of your bound wrists.

Cooperate fully. Make him think you were too scared to go against him. Wait for him to let his guard down.

The worst moment was when he stopped the car to fill up the gas tank, and he allowed your wrists to be free once more as he let you out to use the nearby restroom. Before letting you go, he whispered a warning as he told you not to get any stupid ideas. You didn't need any clarification: there was only one person at the station that you could see, standing away from the pumps so they could smoke their cigarette in peace. With only them seeming to be present, trying to get help here was a stupid idea, and one you would only do if you had no care for the innocent bystander who would undoubtedly suffer because of it.

It was when you were leaving the bathroom and heading back to the car that you felt heavy. Razor's eyes were fixed on you when you stepped out, and the sight had you frozen for a moment.

You didn't want to go to him. Every instinct in you was telling you to run, run as fast as you can and don't look back until you find somewhere safe.

But he was expecting that.

Despite the laid back body language he displayed, a gut feeling told you that he'd be on you the instant you tried getting away from him. That same gut feeling told you that it was better not to anger him. Even if he said that he didn't want you dead, how the hell could you trust a man who had kidnapped you?

You walked back to the car, albeit slowly. If your pace was enough to annoy him, he chose not to comment on it, though the instant you were both back in the car he restrained your wrists again.

Razor drove well into the night, not stopping to rest even when you felt it was too hard to keep your eyes open. You fell asleep like that, and when you woke up early the next morning with an ache in your neck, he was still driving, and you wondered if he had slept at all that night.

After another breakfast of an energy bar and bottled water, you got up the courage to ask him a question.

“How far will we be driving?” you asked.

“Until we reach the coast.”

“Ah.”

That would take a while, then. You weren't that close to any oceans. So it would be a long time spent being around him in the small space of the car.

At least he couldn't do anything to you while he was focused on the road, right?

Turning your attention to the window, you saw that the highway you were on was now slowly filling up with traffic. It was still early morning, thus the morning traffic was merging on the road. Much to Razor's displeasure, as you heard him make an annoyed grunt when he was forced to slow down the speed of the car.

It was disheartening to know that the trip would last that much longer.

You expected that today would be a repeat of the previous: he would say very little aside from ordering you now and then, and you would keep quiet and do as he said. The less you needed to speak with this man, the better.

But then he spoke up.

“You seem tired; are you sure you don't want to sleep more?” he asked.

It took you a few moments to reply, and during that time he glanced over to you. That was what spurred you to respond.

“I don't think I can,” you answered.

“If the front seat is too uncomfortable for you, I can pull over and you can move to the back.”

“I'm okay.”

“… I see.”

You kept your eyes averted from him, not sure what all of this was about but not wanting to poke the bear to find out. Why was he pretending to look out for your well-being? God, all you wanted was to be away from him.

But now with the traffic forcing him to drive far beneath the speed limit and the already long road you had ahead of you, getting away from him wouldn't come any time soon. And now it seemed that your previous question had encouraged him to talk to you, as Razor broke the silence once again.

“You're free to talk, if you'd like.”

“…. I'm okay.”

You didn't say anything after that, and once a few moments had passed, you sensed his gaze on you again when he looked over to you.

“You're getting bored of doing nothing but sitting, aren't you? Why don't you tell me about yourself?” he asked.

The fuck did that mean?

You shook your head, and you felt his confusion grow as he continued to watch you.

“You seemed more eager to speak the other night,” he commented.

Probably because I was panicked from getting jumped in my hotel room, you thought to yourself. Now you didn't want to say anything, or even know anything about what would happen to you. The previous day you had spent in silent dread only built up your paranoia and your fear and you didn't want to hear some story from him that was undoubtedly untrue all to keep you calm for the journey.

You didn't need to know the details of what would happen, the scenarios in your mind that slowly began running wild being all that you needed to guess as to what your fate would be at the end of all this. You were definitely going to die; the fact that he didn't care about you seeing his face seemed like proof of that.

So why give him the satisfaction of feeding you false hope that things wouldn't be as bad as you thought they would be?

Although…..

You had to admit that the island story felt like a weird lie to feed you. Surely he could've come up with something better, some reason that wasn't quite so mysterious. Then again, you couldn't think of any good lie to feed to someone who was being kidnapped.

But again, why in the world would he say that?

The traffic around you was starting to get better when you voiced that thought.

“Why do I need to go to the island?” you asked.

“Because I need you,” he answered.

“For what?”

He didn't answer, and you glanced back over to find that Razor's smile had fallen as he kept his gaze on the road. It didn't seem like he intended on answering you. If that was the case, then you should leave it be. No sense in angering him unnecessarily. He was the one in control, not you.

But he eventually surprised you when he chose to speak again.

“Unfortunately,” he began, “that's one thing I can only explain once we get there.”

“Oh.”

That again.

“Is there a reason why you can't explain now?” you asked.

“Because it may be a bit too difficult to believe simply hearing it.”

“So leaving me without answers for however long you lug me around is the better option?”

Your regretted saying that as soon as the words left your lips. It had been too forceful, too angry and not in line at all with the role of captive you were meant to play. Him not doing much to you had you growing too comfortable, too bold, and Razor obviously noticed it too as he looked over to you with one of his eyebrows raised.

One look from him was all it took for every fear to return, and you went back to cowering in your seat, mumbling a soft “sorry.”

He hummed but said nothing further.

An uncomfortable silence was now in the air, interrupted only by the way Razor tapped his finger against the steering wheel.

You noticed something then: a piece of teal colored string that was wrapped around his pinky. One with some sort of design printed all over it, though it was too small and too far away from you to make out any details.

Your eyebrows furrowed. With the way he'd been touching you that first night, shouldn't you have noticed that before? Then again, how could anyone be paying attention to such fine details after what you'd been going through in that moment?

Ultimately, you took your attention off of that; whatever that was, it couldn't have mattered.

“Have you ever seen my face before today?” he asked.

It was late in the afternoon when he asked that, the third day since he had kidnapped you playing out without much talk aside from the orders he would give you whenever he stopped to refill the car's tank. Despite the talk you had the previous day, he didn't push further to make you speak to him. Maybe the last conversation felt just as strange for him as it had for you.

Evidently he was moving past that now as this new question hung in the air.

Your eyebrows furrowed, but instead of asking him why he was asking, you looked at him and tried to recall if there was any spot in your memory where you had seen his face before all of this. There was a reason he had asked, right? He wouldn't just ask such a thing randomly, right?

Maybe he'd been stalking you for a long time.

As hard as you tried, however, you came up blank in terms of any previous memories that involved your kidnapper, and after a few moments you slowly shook your head “no” in response.

For some reason, Razor actually seemed relieved at that, smiling as he said “that's good.”

“…. Why is that good?” you asked against your better judgment.

With that smile still on his face, Razor shook his head as he replied “I'd rather not go into it. I don't want your opinion of me to go any lower.”

…. What?

“Why would my opinion of you matter?” you asked.

Now Razor seemed confused, glancing over to you while asking “why wouldn't it matter?”

Why wouldn't it matter?

Was he fucking serious?

“Because I've been kidnapped?” you responded, “because I have no say in any of this? Because you were waiting in my hotel room for me, and then you tied me up on the bed? Because it's pretty amazing that I haven't died yet, and there's still a good chance that everything you've been saying to me is a lie so you can keep me calm before you gut me like a pig and dump me in a ditch somewhere.”

He wasn't smiling anymore, his expression now turned serious. You should've been worried about how it didn't seem like he was paying attention to the road.

You should also stop talking. The way you were going right now, you were liable to say something bad that would upset him.

But did it matter if you upset him if you really believed he was going to kill you?

“After you did all of that, why the fuck does my opinion of you matter?” you asked, “why do you care about how your kidnapping victim feels? If you weren't such an awful person, you wouldn't have kidnapped me in the first place. How the fuck can you sit there and be worried about if I like you or not?”

Razor pulled the car over to the side of the road.

Fuck

You averted your eyes as you started to shake.

He'll do it here. Shoot or strangle you and then dump you in the back. Take whatever it was he wanted from you and then throw you away like garbage. That would be the way your life would end, and you were powerless to stop it.

There was no chance of survival, and there was nothing you could do but prepare yourself for the inevitable.

He's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me

Razor placed his hand on top of yours.

Your heart leapt into your throat and you jerked your body away. The furthest you could go was the door, slamming your hands on the window as you ended up against it, pressing yourself against it as far as you could while tears began to fall. This was it. You shut your eyes, waiting for something bad to happen. Either metal being placed against your flesh or his hands wrapping around your neck. Maybe even a plastic bag placed over your head.

Why did he need to pick you?

Why couldn't he have left you alone?

You flinched again when you felt his hand on your shoulder. As this time there was nowhere else for you to go, his hand stayed.

Nothing more than that.

It took you a while to realize that he wasn't doing anything else. With however many minutes had passed with you hyperventilating and crying, he hadn't moved forward with any action other than the hand that he had placed on your shoulder.

After realizing that you were still alive when everything was telling you that you should be dead by now, you came to another realization: the way his hand was placed on your shoulder was almost as if he had done it as a way to comfort you.

His hand was warm where he touched you. Were it not for the horrible situation, it just might have made you feel a bit better.

By that point your cries had quieted down, and he took that as an opportunity to softly speak your name.

You glanced over at him through blurry vision.

He was frowning and his eyebrows were furrowed, but he didn't seem angry.

Razor actually looked sad.

“Are you really that scared of me?” he asked.

Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you nodded, and that only seemed to discourage him even more.

“Even after I told you that I'm not going to hurt you?”

“How can you expect me to trust anything you say?” was your response.

Razor stared at you, his hand still on you. His lips began to part as if to speak, but then he turned his head away from you, looking out through the windshield and at the highway before him.

“Can't argue with that,” you heard him mumble.

Then he removed his hand and returned his attention to driving the car, pulling back out onto the road and continuing on.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the drive.

It was late when Razor decided to stop for a bit, pulling off of the highway and renting a room from a small and rather seedy-looking motel. He'd left you in the car while he went to get a room, and while he still warned you not to try anything, his tone wasn't quite as harsh as it had been those times earlier. It was as though he was trying to be more gentle with you.

You didn't respond except to nod silently.

Now it felt like you were repeating the situation from that first night: the both of you on the bed with you feeling incredibly unsafe while trying and failing to get any sleep. The biggest difference this time was that the mattress of the motel was uncomfortable as shit, and you shifted every few minutes as you tried to find a spot that felt nicer.

At least you weren't sleeping in the car again, you told yourself.

He was still awake. Although you tried not to pay attention to him, it was hard to keep your eyes averted whenever you turned to face his direction. More than once the two of you made eye contact, and immediately after you would turn away. You would have stayed facing away from him if only the goddamn mattress wasn't so awful. And shouldn't he be asleep by now?

The fact that Razor was still awake and alert after three days of what appeared to be constant driving wasn't normal; who the hell could go that long without rest? How had the two of you not yet died in a car crash?

Maybe kidnappers were built different, you dryly thought to yourself.

“…. Do you want to watch anything?”

Razor's voice interrupted that thought train, and you noted that his tone was soft again when he asked, but you shook your head as you stared straight ahead at the wall next to you.

He hummed, and it sounded like he was disappointed.

But for some reason that wasn't the end of it.

“What can I do to make you trust me?”

….. He had some nerve to ask that, after everything. Was he aware of that? Probably. Despite that odd thing regarding your opinion of him, he was pretty self-aware on how wrong all of this was. You'd be justified in ignoring him, though. Razor would probably recognize and understand that, as well.

…..

Even if you were justified, what good would that do you?

After a moment, you remained where you were but pulled your arms upward, holding your bound wrists in the air for him to see.

A few seconds passed and nothing happened.

You figured that his lack of action meant “no”, and with a sigh, you began to pull them back down.

Razor grabbed them.

For a second, all you felt was panic at his sudden touch. You were reminded of that first night and how powerless you were.

It only lasted a moment, however, as Razor grabbed at the zip-tie and, with a slight tug, snapped the plastic off of you. Within a moment, your wrists were free.

… Were they supposed to break that easily?

“Is that better?” Razor asked.

“…. Yeah.”

He pulled away, his eyes remaining on you after. And now that he had done as you wanted, there was a certain level of expectation in the air, such as you would look at him and have a conversation. A proper one.

Continuing to ignore him now seemed like it would be a bad idea.

So you sat up, turning around on the bed so you were facing him. He seemed pleased by that, so that wasn't bad.

But fuck he was intimidating.

Surely after the past few days your fear of just looking at and speaking to him should have gone down somewhat, but no. Looking at him head on while he had his full attention on you had your palms beginning to sweat.

You grabbed the pillow you'd been resting on and wrapped your arms around it as you held it close. Maybe that was pathetic but it made you feel better.

“Ready to talk?” Razor asked.

“Depends on what you have to say,” you answered, “if you're going to tell me that you'll be knocking out my teeth before you feed me to pigs then I'd rather you not say anything.”

He let out an exasperated sigh.

“I told you that you're not going to die.”

The firmness was back in his tone, and you sensed that he was getting to the point of being aggravated.

You looked away as you held the pillow tighter.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “I'll believe you. But then….”

You inhaled before you spoke.

“I want to know why you're taking me. And I don't want an excuse about needing to wait until we get to wherever. I want answers now.”

“I've been pretty cooperative, so I at least deserve that much,” you added.

You glanced over and then away again, still nervous about his potential reaction. While he didn't seem to have anger issues, he more than likely had limits when he was pushed too far. If he wasn't going to kill you, he could keep you alive to experience worse.

A second quick glance revealed that he was staring at that string around his finger.

Then he made eye contact again as he asked “do you think you could listen to what I have to say with an open mind?”

“Uh, sure?”

Razor didn't seem as pleased about the uncertainty that made it's way into your voice, but after a moment's hesitation, he seemed to resolve himself as he spoke again.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

You blinked.

“….. What do you mean?” you asked.

“That there are people in this world who are connected and are meant to be together?” he explained.

“Connected how?”

“By a force that's invisible to most,” said Razor, “like a red thread that you can only see if you have the ability to look.”

What

You blinked again, not sure of what to say.

“I… I guess I've never thought about it,” you began, “if I'm being honest, I'm really not sure.”

“I see.”

Again, there was disappointment in his tone.

Despite being worried to question him, you hesitantly asked “is…. Is there a reason why you asked?”

You had a bad idea as to why he'd mention such a thing. But you held onto hope that this tangent about soulmates was just his way of trying to make a joke so you felt better. Or maybe he was bringing up something this random just to fuck with you. Even that wouldn't be too bad.

He answered your question with a question of his own.

“What would you do if I said we were soulmates?” he asked.

“….”

…. Oh god.

This entire time you'd been convinced that Razor was going to kill you, no matter how much he said otherwise. And if not that, maybe that he would sell you off to someone. Now you were learning that all of this was happening because he was crazy. He'd seen you and was pushing some sort of fantasy onto you while justifying it with the notion of 'soulmates'. That had been all he needed to feel no guilt over tying you up and kidnapping you – because in his mind, what he was doing was right.

Of all the combinations he needed to be, why did he need to be both mentally unstable and unreasonably strong?

That was the other important thing: regardless of his sanity, he still posed an incredibly dangerous threat physically. As he continued to watch you while he waited for you to say something, you were aware that it would be a bad idea to flat-out say 'no'. Better to play along at least somewhat.

“…. I don't know,” you eventually told him.

Razor let out a soft sigh as he said “you think I'm insane, don't you?”

“N-no. Nothing like that,” you replied.

He hummed, and the way he hummed sounded as though he didn't believe you. Then he reached over and began to caress your cheek, making you cringe internally. While you wished you could get his hand off of you, you told yourself to deal with it for now.

“I wish I could show you proof – I really do,” Razor said, “but I'll get into some serious trouble if I use nen while I'm out here.”

That word…. He'd mentioned it before, though you still had no idea what it meant.

“So it needs to wait for the island?” you asked.

“Exactly.”

“…. Okay.”

Better to not make a fuss, you told yourself. Act like you're potentially open to the delusions he's spewing out. Delusional people prefer it when others agree with them, right?

Still, to find out that he had taken you because of such a reason….

The worst case scenario now was that you wouldn't get away and you'd be stuck playing out Razor's romance fantasy with him. At least you wouldn't be dead, right?

…..

It might be a good idea to get off of the soulmate subject, at least for now. And since he was mostly willing to be open and honest with you, now might not be a bad time to question something else he had said.

“Can I ask something else?”

The fact that you were changing subjects was obvious, but he seemed to accept it as he pulled his hand away as he answered “go ahead.”

“Why did you ask if I had seen you before?”

For some reason, that question was the one that had him frowning, and he tore his gaze away from you as he sighed.

“I don't know that you want to hear that answer,” he told you.

“Why?”

“It's not pleasant.”

“So?”

“… I'd rather we wait a while before we get to that discussion,” Razor said.

“I don't want to do that,” you replied.

He grimaced at your response, but oddly enough he didn't seem to be getting upset as he had been when you made that comment about him killing you. Maybe that was why you were spurred to push for him to speak.

“You said you want me to trust you, right? Why not answer?”

“Because you won't be happy with what I tell you.”

“Can it really be worse than what you've done to me so far?” you asked.

“If you can imagine the sort of crimes that get someone sent to death row, then yes.”

“…. Oh.”

Razor turned his head towards you, and you got a certain sense of “I told you so” when he looked over.

What he did couldn't have been any small crime – given how easy it had been to imagine him killing you, murder was the first thing you thought of. But even then, convicted killers didn't always get sentenced to death. There was that guy from Zaban who had literally torn his victims to pieces and while he had gotten over 900 years in prison, the fact that he hadn't been put to death was mind boggling to many.

So just what had Razor done to get himself on death row?

And why was literally everything about this only managing to become worse and worse?

“Why were you sent to death row?” you whispered after a few moments.

It wasn't much of a surprise when he took a bit to answer, frowning again as he stared off at the space in front of him. He didn't want you to know anything about this for some reason.

But eventually, he answered.

“I killed some people,” he said.

“How many?”

“You don't need to know.”

“Why did you kill them?”

“Because I could.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

That's horrible, you wanted to say. But you refrained. Not only because it would be pointing out the obvious, but it probably wouldn't do any good saying that to a man who admitted to something as awful as murder.

Because I could

The words echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but note how there had been a distinct lack of remorse in his tone. Almost as if he didn't care about the lives he had snuffed out for no reason.

A weight settled in your chest at that thought. Why it did remained unclear, but you found yourself wanting to make this better somehow.

“Do you feel bad about it?” you asked.

“What?”

His confusion was evident.

“Do you feel bad for killing those people?” you clarified, “if you could do it all over again, would you leave them alone?”

Why you now wanted so badly for him to agree with what you said was also unclear. Razor was a kidnapper and an admitted murderer – one who was bad enough that he earned himself a spot on death row. Why did it matter to you whether he was sorry for what he'd done?

But regardless, it seemed that was what your heart wanted.

Razor hadn't answered you, and in fact, he was looking at you as though you had grown three heads.

… That wasn't a good sign.

After a few moments where it seemed he was trying to pick his words carefully, he spoke up.

“I don't see much value in thinking about things I could've done differently in the past,” Razor answered.

Then he reached over to you.

While this time you didn't flinch or jerk away, you stiffened immediately, the pillow you held becoming squished between against you as you anticipated him putting his hands on you again.

Surprisingly, Razor paused when he saw your reaction, seeming thoughtful as he watched the way you sat, virtually petrified on the bed with a terrified look on your face.

Could he really blame you? He just told you a lot that warranted being worried about him. Even moreso than before.

Evidently he didn't, as he pulled his hand back and smiling at you again as he said “the important thing is what's happening now, and what our lives will be like from this point onward.”

“So let's not focus anymore on that,” he added.

Stop talking about it, was what he meant.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding in agreement.

Razor seemed pleased with that.

Not long after he told you to rest up, and within a few minutes the lights were off. Once more you needed to try and get some sleep while you lay next to your kidnapper, and the only saving grace was the fact that he was keeping his hands off of you this time. But while you tried to get some meager amount of sleep, you weren't able to focus much on his semblance of respecting your personal space. Instead, there was only one thought going through your head in that moment:

He wasn't sorry

Your wrists weren't tied up when you left the motel the next morning.

That was nice.

And while Razor wouldn't let you out of the car, he did stop at a restaurant to get you a to-go order of pancakes when you asked him to. Eating them in the moving car was awkward but you appreciated that he humored your request.

That was also nice, even if it had the potential of being your last meal before Razor took you to that island.

The knowledge soured the meal somewhat, but as much as you hated to admit it, you weren't so sure now that you would be escaping him. Razor hadn't given you any opportunity to take advantage of, and even with him giving you a bit more freedom of movement, he made a point to lock you inside the car during the time he was gone.

That made sense. After everything, you couldn't see him being foolish enough to leave you alone without having taken some step to secure you beforehand. It was actually pretty surprising that he was giving you the freedom he was after what he'd told you in that motel room.

Though maybe it wasn't too surprising when you considered the fact that he wanted you to like him. While the soulmate thing was complete bullshit, that was what Razor believed. So it made sense that he would want you to feel good about him since he planned on keeping you with him from now on.

That last part had never been said, but you got the sense that would be what happened if Razor got his way.

The rest of your life being spent playing into this man's delusions….

You would have shuddered at the thought if not for your fear that Razor would notice it.

“We'll be driving through the rest of the night,” he told you some time later, “and by tomorrow morning we'll have made it to our boat. From there it won't be too long of a journey to the island.”

You nodded along, though hearing what he said caused a pit to form in your stomach.

Once you were on that boat, the chances of escape were next to zero. It would be better to throw away any thoughts of escape if you were to reach that point.

To try and get away while on the water would be suicide.

He asked you questions every now and then, and though it wasn't as strong as it had been the previous night, you felt that pressure like you needed to answer him in exchange for the kindnesses he had shown you.

So you did what he wanted, and every time you glanced to him after, you saw a pleased look on his face.

You should've felt bad for him. Razor was the one who clearly had a lot of issues – things that, if he was a bit more mentally well, he probably wouldn't have done. Maybe. But then again, you were the one being dragged along with him against your will, so your sympathy could only go so far.

The sun was setting when Razor pulled over to another gas station to refill the tank. This was probably the last stop like this that you'd be making, if what Razor said earlier was correct.

The hand drier in the bathroom was still roaring when you left, only to be muted once the door shut behind you. As you had done a lot over the past few days, you immediately headed back towards the car as you knew your kidnapper wanted you to.

Only this time he wasn't watching you like a hawk.

Razor was by the car as the tank continued to fill, leaning against it as he stared out into the distance. Your gaze followed his, and you found that he seemed to be staring at a factory that sat in the distance, if the long, rectangular building accompanied by several smokestacks were any indication. Or perhaps he was looking beyond that, at the city that which was several miles away but still visible from where you stood. Or maybe it was just the sunset. It was at the time of day where the sky was at its prettiest.

Instead of entering the car once you returned, you went to his side and stood next to him, copying the way he leaned on it. He glanced at you, but said nothing about what you were doing. He only returned his gaze to the sight in front of him.

And then an odd expression morphed onto his face.

One that was almost wistful.

“Are you okay?” you asked cautiously.

Razor seemed surprised, looking back at you as he asked “why?”

“You look a little sad, I guess.”

“Do I?”

He looked back in the direction of the factory and the city that sat far off in the distance, and that wistful expression returned. As much as you wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, that question felt like it might be too intrusive and could potentially cause a bad reaction from him, particularly if it involved his past. He really didn't want you to know much in regard to that.

He let out a sigh.

“I guess I am, a little bit,” Razor said, “this is the last time I get to be out and about in the world like this. Once we get back to the island, I know I'll never leave again.”

“Never?” you repeated.

“Never,” he said, “the purpose of leaving the island every so often was to find you, and now that I have, there's no reason for me to come out here like this.”

He leaned his head back, now looking at the darkening sky above him as he added “I knew it was coming, but I didn't think it would bother me, knowing that this is the last time I can walk around like I'm free.”

“… Are you not?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“Death row convict.”

“Ah. Right.”

You went over the new information in your head.

“So you can't leave the island once you go back?” you asked, “is it a prison?”

He let out a short laugh.

“It's a prison for some of us, but even then it's nicer than any traditional prison you'll find,” he said.

“Us? There are others like you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but don't worry, you won't need to interact with them.”

You nodded, though your eyebrows furrowed as you thought on it a bit more.

“Will I be able to leave at all?” you asked.

“No.”

You sighed.

“Figures.”

Kicking at a bit of rubble by your foot, you said “so, the plan from here is to go to an island where we'll never leave, and then just….. Hang out there forever?”

“There's a bit more to it than that.”

“Hm.”

When Razor reached for you that time, you didn't flinch or shy away. And when his hand settled on your shoulder, you didn't give much reaction other than to look at him.

“It won't be that bad. The places you'll be able to go to are the nice ones,” he said.

“…. It's still really depressing that I can't ever leave once I get there.”

Razor smiled at you, and this time the sadness he felt was even more obvious.

“I know.”

Then he stood up straight, announcing “we should get going.”

You nodded, and you wordlessly walked around the car to get to the front passenger's seat.

When you were both in the car and after you'd buckled up, something else strange happened.

Razor reached out and pulled you towards him, your head resting on his chest while he kept you in something that resembled a hug.

“I do regret that you've gotten dragged into this,” he whispered against your hair, “I really mean that. While I can't do anything to stop it, I'll do my best to make it easier for you. I promise.”

In that moment, you had no insights as to what Razor was truly thinking or feeling, no clue that everything he'd just said was a genuine promise from him that he intended to keep. So you had no idea how his heart skipped a beat when he felt your hands reach up and hold onto his jacket. You had no idea of the relief that filled him when you moved in closer and reciprocated his hug.

“I trust you, Razor.”

As those words were whispered from your lips, you had no idea that, in that moment, Razor truly believed that he had your acceptance.

There was no one else on the docks when you got there in the morning, arriving early enough that the morning mist was still present as Razor navigated the car through various warehouses and massive walls of shipping containers. Was it unusual for such a place to be completely empty at this time of day? You weren't sure; you didn't know enough about this kind of place to be able to tell what was normal or not.

All the sight did was guarantee that no one other than Razor would witness the last moments you had on the mainland.

Eventually the car came to a stop not far from the edge. Just as he had said, there was a boat sitting in the water. It wasn't anything new as it looked quite battered, but presumably it would make the journey that Razor wanted it to.

Though it would be morbidly funny if, after all of his efforts, it were to sink in the middle of the trip.

“Let's go,” Razor told you.

He stepped out of the car, and after a few moments, you copied the action.

The smell of the ocean air hit you after you got out. You stood there, your hand gripping at the top of the door to keep yourself steady as you looked out at the water before you, and then the boat.

One last leg of the journey, and then you'd be stuck with Razor for good.

…..

No one would ever find you, probably. Your disappearance had more than likely been reported by now, but all efforts to find you would be focused on that hotel you'd been staying at and the surrounding area; who would ever think to look for you on the water? Even if someone remembered seeing your face and informed the authorities, how would they reach anything other than a dead end once they got to the shoreline? You didn't have the time to leave some sign of you behind, nor could you with Razor undoubtedly watching you as close as he had been. You couldn't do anything.

Once you stepped on that boat, you weren't getting away from him. To try and do so would be suicide, you reminded yourself.

Your grip on the door became harder and breathing became more difficult the longer you stared at the boat.

I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go

And again you asked why he needed to pick you.

Razor's voice saying your name forced you away from your thoughts, and you turned your head to see that he had your luggage slung over his shoulder and a concerned look on his face as he watched you. Your internal freak out wasn't as internal as you thought it was, then.

Swallowing a few times, you eventually asked “can I just….. Can I have a minute?”

“…. Alright.”

Then, to your utter surprise, Razor turned and began walking towards the boat.

Leaving you behind.

……

Was this some kind of test? Or maybe…. Did he think that since you were now at this point, he could relax a bit in watching you? Was he that confident you weren't going anywhere?

Razor continued making his way to the boat without a single glance back at you.

Your heart began to beat hard against your chest as you realized: you could run.

If you waited until he reached the boat and then made a break for it, you might just have a decent head start. If not to escape the area completely, then to find someplace to hide. Maybe find a phone and call for help. If it was a landline phone, they should be able to figure out your location without you needing to try and figure out where you were exactly.

If he caught you, it'd be bad for you, sure. But….

As he went further and further away, you were acutely aware that this was the first chance you had gotten to make an escape. The only chance you had. Were you really going to waste it by being too afraid of him?

….. No.

For once, you were going to take control of the situation.

And you were leaving.

You kept watch as Razor stepped off the dock and onto the boat, your things still in hand as he made his way to the cabin. Your hand was still gripping the door, your knuckles becoming pale from how hard you held onto it.

When he went inside. That was when you would run.

Once he stepped through the low doorway of the cabin, you did just that.

You pushed off from the door and you ran.

All you heard was your shoes on the dock and your own heartbeat in your ears as you propelled yourself forward. That felt a bit odd; you would have expected to hear him call out in anger on seeing you running. But at you reached the end and turned a corner past a line of containers, you didn't hear anything from him. There was no indication he even noticed that you had fled.

That was even better. While he would notice soon enough, every second you got with him being unaware would help in aiding your escape. You could do this. With every step forward you took with no sign of Razor coming after you, your confidence grew.

And then, after exiting the row of containers and reaching a warehouse, you saw a godsend:

A man.

He stood at the end of the structure, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you once you rounded the corner. With black hair sticking out of a odd blue cap and the rest of his blue and white clothing looking slightly worn, he looked raised an eyebrow as he took in your disheveled state.

You, on the other hand, felt relief upon seeing him. This was someone who could help. If you could explain what was happening, he could get you away and call the police. Then all of your problems would be over.

You could go home.

So you ran towards him, calling out “sir! Please, help me!”

He said nothing, but when you stumbled as you reached him, he took his hands out of his pockets so as to steady you, keeping his hands on your arms while you grabbed at the long blue scarf that hung from his neck.

“Please,” you said again, gulping as you did your best to maintain your composure, “I've been kidnapped. We need to get out of here and call the police.”

“Kidnapped? Who would kidnap you?” the man asked.

“He-he said that he's a death row convict,” you began, “he was waiting for me in my hotel room, and he tied me up and took me with him. Now he's trying to take me to some island and he says I can't ever come back.”

When the man didn't immediately respond, you got a bit more frantic as you cried “I swear, I'm not making this up! I've really been kidnapped, and I need the police before he tries to get me again! All of this is true!”

The logical part of your brain knew that getting hysterical wouldn't help you. But you weren't able to be completely logical in that moment. Now that you were so close to escape, you couldn't control yourself. You needed him to listen to what you were saying.

Finally, the man nodded.

“I believe you,” he said.

Relief rushed through you as you smiled, and you held onto his scarf tighter, unwilling to let go of this lifeline.

You spoke to the man again, asking if he had a phone, or better yet, if he had a car, and if he knew how far away the nearest police station was. He didn't really answer, though perhaps he couldn't with the way you were rambling in that moment. But you noticed when he looked past you and down the path that you'd just come from.

Your eyes followed his gaze and just like that your words died in your throat as your grip on the man's scarf became tighter, this time from fear.

Razor was there. Staring at you.

And for the first time, you saw true anger in him. Those dark eyes glared at you across the distance as he saw you in this unknown man's arms.

He's going to kill me

You looked back to the man, ready to beg for him to help again, for him to get you out of here before Razor murdered both you.

The man spoke before you could.

“Is this them, Razor?” he asked.

…. Huh?

He knew Razor's name?

How? You hadn't told this man what your kidnapper's name was. You were certain that you hadn't.

“Yeah,” your kidnapper answered.

Razor was talking to him? Not flying into a murderous rage and killing you both? The nonchalance of his reply was also a shock.

“Huh. I'm a little surprised,” the man said as he looked back to you.

“Surprised at what?” Razor asked. He started to walk forward at a moderate pace, taking his time while he kept his eyes fixed on you.

“That they got away from you,” the man answered.

You tried pulling away from him then. But the grip he had on your arms was ironclad, and no amount of wriggling would free you.

This man was far, far stronger than he looked.

“That was an error in judgment on my part,” Razor answered, coming to a stop as he had now reached the two of you by the warehouse.

“I'm sorry to have made you step in, Ging,” Razor added.

Ging?

The man who held you laughed.

“I don't mind,” Ging answered, “saves you the hassle of catching them again, right?”

“Right…..”

Razor's voice trailed off as he stared at you again, and with him being so much closer this time, you felt your entire body shudder while your heart beat pounded in your chest again, now being caused by pure, unadulterated fear.

He was so, so mad.

Ging then smiled at your kidnapper.

“Well, aside from this little mishap, everything else work out well?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Razor answered. His attention finally went back to Ging, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Glad to hear it.”

Ging was saying something else to him but you couldn't completely hear it. You still tried to slip your way out of Ging's fingers, but it was no use; he wasn't letting go unless he wanted to. Tears were welling up as you continued the futile effort. And somehow, the fact that he wasn't even acknowledging your attempt to get away only made it worse.

Why? Why did Ging need to be here to catch you? Why did you need to have such awful luck?

What was going to happen to you now?

You didn't want to find out, and so despite knowing that there was no hope of getting away now, you still tried.

If there was such a thing as divine intervention, you wanted it right now.

“Ah, Right. Before you go, I need to see that you haven't used your nen,” said Ging.

Instead of answering, Razor held up his hand, showing the teal bit of string that was still wrapped around his pinky.

“Just needed to check,” Ging told him, “we'd both be in trouble if that was broken.”

“I know.”

“Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way-”

Finally removing his hand from where he'd been gripping you, Ging unexpectedly turned you around and pushed you, causing you to stumble forward.

Right into Razor.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, and his hold on you was immediate and unforgiving, gripping you to the point that it hurt. Like with Ging, you wanted to struggle. You wanted to try and do everything in your power to break free of him.

But unlike with Ging, there was an air around Razor now that felt dangerous.

No, worse than that.

It truly felt like he was ready to kill someone.

And with that aura that surrounded you to the point that you felt like it might actually smother you to death, you couldn't bring yourself to fight against him. It was all you could do to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground.

Meanwhile, Ging and Razor were continuing their conversation.

“Think your replacement will be happy to see you back?” Ging asked.

“They'll probably just be relieved that they'll be done overseeing my duties,” Razor answered, “it usually takes them a few days after before they're at one hundred percent power again.”

“Well of course. The emission system was designed with specifically you in mind. There's no way anyone can run it as smoothly as you do.”

“Yeah.”

Despite his short answer, there was a hint of pride within Razor's voice, and the heavy air around you lifted somewhat.

Ging then looked back to you, smiling as he said “and now we've got this one, it'll be even better than before.”

And just like that, the air was suffocating again. It was like Razor had briefly forgotten the way he had been upset with you only to be shortly reminded of it.

Did Ging know that would happen?

…. Did he do it on purpose?

“Well, I'll let you get going then,” Ging then said, “I'm sure there's a lot you need to talk to them about.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, and you're free to use your hatsu now if you need to.”

Razor nodded as he said “see you, Ging.”

Ging waved in response before he turned away.

Razor did the same, one hand remaining on your arm as he began to drag you behind him.

Except your legs didn't want to work, still feeling weak and like they would bend beneath you at any moment. You stumbled along for only a few steps before he bent down to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

He handled you roughly as he did so, the breath in your lungs pushing out with a sharp gasp before he continued along. Again he was holding you tightly after, as if with the intent to bruise, like he wanted to leave marks on your skin beneath your clothing. You frequently felt the way his fingers twitched, like he was fighting the urge to do something violent. You were crying now, but your throat was too clogged up to make any noise.

The position you were now in allowed you to watch Ging as he walked away from the two of you. His hands were in his pockets again and he walked at a relaxed pace.

If you weren't so terrified of Razor you might have screamed at the man who gave you back to your kidnapper. Maybe wish torture and death upon him.

But you didn't dare let any noise escape you now.

Why did this need to happen to you?

That thought repeated itself through the entire walk back to the boat while you quietly cried atop Razor's shoulder. Like that very first night, he had yet to say anything. And once you reached the small flight of stairs that led down inside the boat, he moved you off his shoulder.

He pushed you down the stairs just as quickly and you tumbled down into the darkness.

Despite the short fall, it still hurt when you landed, your arms taking the brunt of it. However, you barely let out a pained groan afterwards, instead quietly sitting upright before you curled in on yourself, nursing your bruised arms. It still felt like a bad idea to say anything. Even though Razor hadn't come down, you still felt that air around you. Something bad was going to happen shortly.

The sound of an engine coming to life and reverberating through the small vessel caught your attention, as did the way the boat began to move away from the docks and out onto the water.

Perhaps that meant he wouldn't come down. If he was too busy driving the boat, then you would probably be left here until he reached his destination. That wasn't bad. If he took some time away from you, then maybe he wouldn't be as upset when he saw you again.

Deciding on that being what was most likely to happen, you settled down on the floor, anticipating a long, lonely journey.

Someone's hand grabbed at you in the darkness.

Now you screamed.

On instinct, you tried to pull your arm away. Your attempt was unsuccessful, and the hand hauled you up to your feet.

Another hand grabbed at you, this time clamping down onto your leg. No matter how hard you tried to kick them away, you couldn't escape their grip.

Someone else grabbed your legs, wrapping their arms around one of your knees so you were unable to move. At that same time, someone else grabbed your free hand, and both of your arms were stretched out away from your body, making it even harder to struggle.

You still tried, though. Even when a body came up from behind you and hooked their elbows beneath your armpits, you did everything in your power to wiggle out of those hands that held onto you.

If only that had been enough.

Within moments you were completely immobilized, your body held down by the multitude of hands that had come from the darkness. The only thing you could do was scream, and the ability to do even that was taken away when a large palm slapped over your mouth. Tears continued to stream down your face.

The lights were suddenly turned on, forcing you to close your eyes while you heard Razor descend the small flight of stairs. It took a few moments of blearily opening your eyes before they adjusted to the light, but when they did, you found Razor standing in front of you.

But you weren't able to keep your focus on him for long, not when you saw who was holding you. Several men dressed in white and blue, their blue caps covering their eyes.

….. No, not men.

Things.

They weren't human. They couldn't be. Despite their humanoid shapes, the wide smiles that were filled with the dangerously sharp teeth wasn't something any human you knew of possessed. The pure white skin was also a sign that these weren't human. Not just from the sight alone, but from how that skin felt against your own. It felt artificial, and their touch was completely cold. And while you weren't able to see any of their eyes due to the blue caps adorned with numbers, every single one of them was looking right at you, smiling at you while they held you down.

Your breathing became harsher as you began to truly panic, your sobs muffled by the hand that kept you silent. You were quickly becoming lightheaded.

Somehow, the one that was covering your mouth realized this as they pulled their hand away, and you took in a few desperate gulps of air before you focused on Razor again.

His expression was just as grim as it had been when he was outside.

“Trust is an awful thing to break,” he said.

He stepped forward, and your body tensed as you tried to back away from him. Unsurprisingly, the grip those creatures had on you remained strong.

“It can take a long time to build up even in the best of circumstances, and then it can shatter completely with a single lie,” he continued.

“Or a single act.”

Razor stood before you now, towering over you with a dark look in his eyes.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he said to you, “after what we talked about, after what you said to me yesterday, I really thought that we had gotten somewhere. That even if you didn't entirely understand it, the soulmate connection was enough to keep you from running,” he continued.

“But you were lying through your teeth about everything, weren't you?”

His expression when he said that was too scary and you looked down, focusing instead on the creature that had wrapped it's arms around your knee.

You weren't allowed to look away for long as Razor grabbed you by your face and forced you to look up at him, being forced to maintain the uncomfortable eye contact.

Unable to keep yourself calm, your breathing came in harsh as you stared back at him.

And for some reason that seemed to have an effect, as the look on his face softened ever so slightly.

Razor sighed.

“Maybe…. Maybe this hurts a bit more than I expected because we're soulmates,” he thought aloud, “maybe I thought, even without the nen, that you would understand faster because the connection should have been enough.”

“I-I'm – I'm not-” you began.

He moved his hand up so it covered your mouth, cutting you off from whatever excuse he felt would fall from your mouth. Now that you were again unable to speak, you sniffled against his hand while the tears that ran down your cheek met with his fingers.

The boat was still moving, and had seemingly picked up a bit more speed as it continued forward through the water. It was going further and further away from the land, further and further out to the open ocean. You remembered what you had told yourself before:

You weren't getting away now.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you slumped over in the grip of those monsters, your body going limp. Continuing to resist now was thoroughly meaningless.

And some part of you said that it always had been.

It was still quiet; Razor said nothing more, you only continued to quietly cry and those creatures hadn't uttered a single word the entire time. The only things that kept it from being completely silent were the hum of the engine and the sound of the waves that hit the hull of the boat.

When he pulled his hand off of your mouth, you said nothing, continuing to stare up at him as you bit your lip.

Then Razor smiled.

“Ah well. Us being soulmates doesn't mean that we won't make some mistakes now and then, right?”

Despite the pleasant expression on his face, the mood in the room was anything but. Even when he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your face, the action lacked any sort of kindness. There was still a smothering aura that surrounded both him and you, though now it had significantly lessened.

But that didn't make him feel any less dangerous.

“We have several hours before we get to Greed Island – that's plenty of time for us to become acquainted properly. And I'm sure that by the end of it, we'll have both learned some things about each other.”

The smile on Razor's face had never looked more menacing.

“After all, if there's anyone who can forgive me about what I'm about to do, it'll be my soulmate, right?”

#reader insert #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere razor #razor x reader #hxh razor #yandere hxh #hxh x reader #yandere

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago

Note

So this is just a silly little thought I had

imagine Sanemi trying to confess to you (keyword: TRYING) but he can’t look at you without loosing his thread and stumbling over his words, so one day he confronts you and just shows you his back, staring st a wall, while confessing. And then getting mad at himself snd storming off.

Oh, how much you love the feeling of those last rays of sunshine on your skin. If it wasn’t for the demons luring around at night, this time of the day would definitely be your favorite.

You sign to yourself, allow your mind to rest for a second. Today was particularly rough, left you without any breaks while taking care of those countless wounded corps members.

Your eyes dart around the lonely area aimlessly while making your way back to the estate when you find someone standing by the wall, facing away from you. It takes only a second to recognize the familiar spiky white hair and the broad, muscular frame.

“Sanemi?” you call out, slowing your pace.

He doesn’t turn around. Instead, he seems to tense up, his shoulders tightening as if he’s trying to steel himself for something. You frown, stepping closer. Maybe he was hurt as well?

“Is everything okay?”

Sanemi grunts in response, still not turning to face you. You tilt your head, more confused now than concerned. He usually isn’t the type to act weird, especially around you. The two of you have a simple but warm relationship in which Sanemi Shinazugawa never fails to make you smile when you feel his eyes on you.

But this - this is new.

“Sanemi, what’s going on?” you ask softly, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression while he keeps his back firmly towards you.

“Dammit…” he mutters barely audible under his breath.

You can see his fists clenching at his sides, the tension in his muscles visible even from behind.

Now you really start to worry. Sanemi wasn’t the type to mince words. No, he’s blunt, sometimes to a fault. But now, it’s like he’s fighting himself just to speak.

“Listen,” he starts, his voice rougher than usual.

“I’ve been trying… to say something… for a while now.”

He pauses, audibly inhaling sharply.

“But every time I look at you, I lose my damn mind.”

Your heart skips a beat. What is he trying to say? You step closer, your curiosity attracted. But just before you’re able to touch him, he stretches out his hand.

“Don’t… don’t come any closer,” he orders, leaving you coming to a stand immediately.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admits, his tone now frustrated and even angry.

“I’ve never… I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

“Sanemi, you can tell me anything,” you assure him.

He scoffs nervously. Sanemi Shinazugwa, nervous?

“You say that now, but…”, he trails off, clenching his fists tighter,

“just… listen.”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. The silence stretches between both of you, and you can literally feel the heat radiating off him from how tense he is. Then, finally, he speaks up again, his voice gruff and hesitant.

“I… I care about you. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. But I’m not good with words. Every time I try to say it, I just… I can’t…”

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at his indirect confession, but before you can even respond, he growls in frustration, his head dropping as he curses under his breath.

“This is so stupid, I can’t even look at you without making a fool of myself”, he mutters frustrated.

Sanemi turns his head slightly, just enough for you to see the side of his face, his expression a mixture of anger and embarrassment. But as quickly as he looked your way, he turns back to the wall.

“I wanted to tell you… I needed to tell you… that I’m in love with you. But I’m just… I’m just not good at this”, he finally blurts out.

For a moment, you are stunned into silence. You always knew there was something deeper between the two of you but hearing him say it out loud is overwhelming. Before you can find the right words to respond, Sanemi lets out a frustrated shout, slamming his fist against the wall.

“Damn it! “Forget I said anything!”, he curses all over again.

“Sanemi, wait—” you call after him.

But the wind hashira is already gone.

There you stand with your heart pounding, the echo of his words still ringing in your ears. Sanemi Shinazugawa really loves you? Despite the roughness of his confession, you can’t help but grin like an idiot.

“I love you as well, Sanemi”, you mumble to yourself.

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jjkamochoso · 7 months ago

Text

Quit Bugging Me

Fluff

Sanemi Shinazugawa x gn!reader

You find Sanemi taking care of his Japanese rhinoceros beetles!

Warnings: descriptions of bugs, bugs crawling on characters’ bodies, light cussing and talk of violence

Part 2 can be found here!

You walked along yet another stone path at your fellow Hashira’s house, intently listening for any sign that he was currently residing there. You would say you and Sanemi were friends (though he wouldn’t). Over the years you’d known each other, you became one of the only people he didn’t find incredibly annoying and that was a good enough relationship for you, though you wouldn’t be opposed to growing closer to him. It seemed like he now felt that way about you as well, surprisingly, since he periodically sent his crow to check on you and make sure you were doing alright. You never mentioned that gesture to his face, something Sanemi was extremely grateful for, because there was no way he’d be able to explain his reasoning behind it without his head literally exploding from embarrassment.

It was oddly quiet at his house with none of the screaming or fighting happening that you were used to hearing from the Wind Hashira.

“That’s strange,” you muttered to yourself, “he’s usually training in his time off. Where is he?”

Your crow had never led you astray with wrong information, but it seemed like this time she was mistaken—Sanemi wasn’t home. You turned another corner and decided to try one more path before leaving. This one was unmarked by stones but showed signs of frequent usage due to the way the plants had given up growing there, tired of being trod on. After many twists and turns, it eventually led you down into a clearing surrounded by large oak trees and a wide pond. You finally spotted Sanemi’s spiky white hair and you made your way toward him. He appeared to be kneeling on the ground, his attention solely focused on the task in front of him.

“Sanemi,” you called out, “it’s y/n. May I approach?”

You were trying your best to be as respectful as possible so you didn’t immediately enrage him. Sanemi raised his head at breakneck speed, his purple eyes almost bulging out of his head in surprise.

“Y/n?! What the hell are you doing here? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

You took a step forward, leaves crunching underfoot. “I just came to check on you. I hadn’t heard from your crow in many moons and I wanted to make sure everything was fine with you both.”

“I’m gonna kill that idiot bird,” he said under his breath before acknowledging you in a louder tone. “I’m good. Why did you waste your time coming here? You should be training.”

“Shouldn’t you be, too?” you asked, trying to hide your smirk at his now angry face. “Instead, I find you playing in the woods like a child. What are you doing anyway?”

So much for not riling him up; he was just too fun to mess with!

“Nothing! It’s none of your business. Get out of here.”

He turned his back to you once more but you both knew he couldn’t scare you off so easily. You kneeled next to him, his broad shoulders nearly brushing against your own. In front of him laid open containers, some empty while others held beetles of some sort.

“Japanese rhinoceros beetles,” he explained, shaking the container with the bugs ever so slightly to get them to move. “I raise them.”

He looked up and pointed to the left of you. “Which of those rocks is your favorite?”

“Huh? Um, I guess this one,” you said, indicating to a certain medium sized rock.

“Good choice. That’ll be the rock I use to bash your head in if you tell anybody I do this.”

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell anyone you’re an interesting person,” you teased, earning an eye roll from Sanemi. You two sat in comfortable silence as he continued trying to get the beetles to leave the container and explore their new home outside, but they wouldn’t budge.

“They’re just as stubborn as you, I can see why you like them.”

“Shut up.”

Sanemi then reached his hand into the box and plucked one of the beetles out before gently placing it on a tree. You smiled, enjoying seeing this sensitive side of him come out.

“Do you raise them from birth?” you questioned, wanting to know all about the process. It was a very unique hobby to have and you craved to learn more details.

“Sometimes. I’ve had a few mate and then I’ll raise the larvae until they’re adults and then send them back into nature. Other times I find older ones that are hurt so I keep them until their strength returns and put them back here as well. But don’t go thinking I’m getting soft or somethin’. I just think they’re cool, that’s all.”

You could tell he was feeling bashful about his hobby and the dedication he showed to his little friends by the way he wouldn’t meet your gaze. You tried your best to help him relax and show you weren’t judging him.

“That’s actually really neat, Sanemi. I think it’s amazing that you have the knowledge to take care of them in every stage of their lives.”

He picked another beetle up, this time letting it crawl all over his hand. “They’re simple creatures, ones that are easy to understand. They fight and reproduce, that’s it. There’s no need for feelings or other stupid things like humans. Must be nice.”

You hummed in agreement. “That’s true, but I don’t mind the whole emotions thing we have to deal with. It’s what makes us humans unique.”

“It’s what makes us weak.”

You playfully raised your eyebrows. “Ah, so you do have emotions like the rest of us, then?”

“I do. Like right now, the emotion I’m feeling toward you is great annoyance.”

“And the emotion I feel towards you is satisfaction,” you laughed, leaving Sanemi shaking his head. The truth was, he was feeling an opposite emotion than annoyance or his trademark anger. He was feeling excitement and a little bit of fear.

He was feeling love.

“Would you like to hold one?” he inquired, looking at you with such a rare sincere, almost hopeful, expression there was no way you could turn him down.

“I would love to,” you responded, feeling the tickle of insect legs in your outstretched cupped palms. You were so enthralled in the beauty of the beetle that you didn’t notice the way Sanemi was looking at you. As much as he tried, his eyes couldn’t pull away from your figure. Your kind eyes, your big smile, your relaxed body language around him—it was all so foreign to the Wind Hashira and he found himself intoxicated with your presence. Seeing you, the person he found himself head over heels for, having such a good time indulging in one of his most precious hobbies was a luxury he never thought he could afford and yet it was happening in front of him and he could barely believe he was this lucky.

“Like I said earlier, you’re not so different from them. Hard exterior but soft on the inside.”

Sanemi was pulled from his daydreams by the sound of your voice.

“You’re so weird,” he sneered, but he couldn’t bring himself to add any malice behind the words. You let out another laugh, the joyous sound being enough to bring Sanemi to his knees if he weren’t already on the ground.

“Hey, uh, Sanemi, the beetle is crawling up my arm,” you said, nervousness apparent in your tone. You were fine with the bug in your hands, but anywhere further up was too much for you. This time it was his turn to laugh, his arms crossed in front of his toned chest.

“He won’t hurt you, you know.”

“I know,” you said, trying to get your urgency across as the beetle raced up your limb, “but I’m getting really freaked out right now and I would love if you took your friend off me.”

Normally Sanemi would relish in seeing others get squeamish and scared, but not you—never you.

“Just relax, I got you.”

He quickly leaned over, grabbing your upper arm to steady it as he caught the beetle in his other hand. At first your heart rate calmed when you felt his large hand come in contact with your arm because you knew he would come to your aid. Then, when it registered that Sanemi just touched you, you felt your breath hitch in your throat and your heart beat faster. When Sanemi walked over to place the beetle on another tree, you took the time to breathe in deeply, trusting the fresh air to calm you.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Sanemi, so I think I’ll take my leave now as I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Thank you for having me and sharing your hobby with me, I can see why those creatures bring you happiness.”

You didn’t want to leave so soon, but you certainly didn’t want him to get sick of you so you began to retrace your steps from earlier on the winding path.

“I’ll walk you out. I don’t want you to get lost.”

The scarred slayer had taken up a spot next to you, matching your walking pace. You both knew that was a lie since it was a fairly straightforward trek to the front gate, but neither of you mentioned it, wanting to soak up as much time together as possible. You were in the midst of a conversation about different fighting styles when all of a sudden, your foot caught on a gnarled root sticking up from the ground. You were ready to fall face first when a strong grasp appeared on your waist.

“Tch. Watch where you’re going, idiot,” said Sanemi, his hands not moving from their resting place on your body. You two locked eyes for a long time, no one daring to break the intimate moment you were sharing.

“Found them! Found them! Found the Hashira you care about!” cried Sanemi’s crow from above you. You both pulled away from each other as fast as possible, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position by the loudmouth bird.

“You good for nothing bird!” shouted Sanemi, throwing pebbles in the general direction of the crow. It just cackled at him, completely unbothered before flying away. You finished your ascent up to his house, an awkward silence falling between you this time.

“So, I guess this is goodbye for now?” you questioned, nervously wringing your hands together in front of you.

“I guess.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

You waved one last time, small stones flicking behind you as your feet hauled yourself away from Sanemi. You were doing so great in your mission to get to know Sanemi better and felt like you made huge strides today, but you assumed that after that strange interaction at the end, he’d never want to see you again. You couldn’t wait to get somewhere he couldn’t see you so you could hang your head in shame at the fact you ruined your chance at potential love. You had just reached the gate when you heard a yell from behind you.

“Hey! Y/n! Wait!”

You were shocked to see Sanemi jogging to you.

“It’s hot out here today and I don’t want to be responsible for someone finding your dehydrated body on the road. Come inside for a drink.”

Before you could answer, he quickly continued. “Please. If you want. Or don’t, I don’t care.”

He looked away, his arms once again folded in front of his chiseled chest.

“That sounds wonderful,” you answered, excited to spend more time with him, “I would love to. Thank you.”

His attention was on you again, not expecting you to actually take him up on his offer.

“Oh, yeah, uh, don’t mention it,” he said, and you could’ve sworn you saw a blush show up on his cheeks. As he opened his house door for you, you knew this would be the start of something good.

PART TWO

#sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader

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leftneb · 4 months ago

Text

There is Something Seriously Wrong with this Logo..... Chapter Two

So. Lots of you have seen this post by my dear partner ( @lailau7904 ) in which the Williams F1 design team get absolutely torn to bits. In the case you haven't read it yet I highly recommend you do because a) it's really fucking funny and b) it makes what I'm about to tell you even funnier. Though you don't have to, this post touches on entirely different things still regarding this one goddamn logo.

The original post starts like this:

Innocent enough, we made an assumption in good faith that the logo displayed on the Wikipedia page would be the same one as the official version used by Williams. Buckle the fuck up because I'm about to tell you why that was the worst mistake we could have made.

Please. Please I beg of you keep reading this took YEARS off our lifespans. Like the original post was fun and all but it was merely the top of the iceberg. If this were an hbomberguy video this would be the part where he reveals that the background was a greenscreen the whole time. More below the cut!!! :333

The Truth

Already after only a few hours after hitting "post" on the dissection, people started pointing out to us that we'd missed an absolutely crucial detail on the Wikimedia page we got the logo from, pay careful attention:

See THIS?

Yeah this means that that image is not, and never was, the official logo of Williams. All along it had been the work of a Wikipedia user by the name of Juanchocarbonero. Here you can even see the (admittedly painful) history of the file as provided by Wikimedia, this image was uploaded all the way back in 2016, it even underwent an update when the team changed their colour scheme to a lighter blue without getting fucking fixed.

But to me the absolutely most painful part about this page is the "File Usage" section. Which gives you a quick preview of just how deep the goddamn disease that is this piece of graphic design sin really spreads.

And just to clarify: the official version of the logo used by Williams on merch etc is perfectly fine. It's a nice piece of graphic design. I still quite like it. But the story doesn't end there. Not even close.

Consequences

When you look up "williams logo" on Google the image provided by Wikimedia the very first result that pops up, if you're looking for a high-quality .png of this logo that, logically, is what you'll end up using. And I mean, why wouldn't you? What reason do you have not to use it? As long as you don't look to close (oops) it's a perfectly fine, high-definition, clean and transparent image of the logo! No shit people are going to use it!

But this raises a question: Why IS it the most widespread version of the logo? That's fucking weird isn't it? Surely if the actual logo used on ex.: the official Williams F1 website (which, again, is perfectly fucking fine) was available they would've just used that, right?

Now. Small problem. If you want you can go ahead and open whatever search engine you use, if you do that I'm gonna need you to type in "Williams logo" into the search bar, and just try finding a picture that is

of the actual official logo (you can tell the bootleg from the real thing by checking if the middle segment of the W has spiky ends or flat ones. We're looking for flat ones here)

high quality (no pixels or blurring visible to the naked eye)

a transparent png (none of that chequered background bullshit)

NOT a logo with any words (such as: Williams or Racing) visible in it. those don't count.

If you didn't feel like doing any of that, I'll just tell you the answer: you fucking can't. Nothing like that EXISTS. The closest I could get are these two, both of which are mid to ass quality, so they don't count either.

No sensible individual is going to scroll google search results for 5 minutes straight just so they can use a 200x200 image, especially when they think a perfect alternative is right there.

I even found several recoloured versions of the diseased logo, including one as a sticker on Redbubble! Fuck me that's a horrible sight!

The Search

Because I wrote the previous paragrahps after we'd figured out exactly what had happened, you might be under the impression that by this point in trying to answer the question "Why the fuck is that image on Wikipedia instead of, idk, the real fucking thing?" we'd at least established the existence of said "real Williams F1 logo". You'd be wrong, because for somewhere around 24 hours after we'd made the initial, horrifying discovery of just how fucked the Wikipedia version is, we genuinely could not tell if that was the official logo or not.

The ones displayed on their website weren't at all downloadable or even copyable, a non-ass quality of the damn thing just didn't seem to exist anywhere, so we didn't dare draw any conclusions. And we were still foolishly operating on the assumption that Wikipedia wouldn't just lie to us. (this is why your teachers hate it when you use it a source btw. like this is the ONE time it's actually been reasonable)

So, in the hopes of finding the offical Williams Racing logo, the non-scuffed one because clearly it exists, somewhere, we consulted an expert on Intellectual Property: my mother!

What this "consultation" actually roughly looked like was: we went on a walk and I started rambling about the Situation from Last Night before she cut me off and pulled up the website of the World Intellectual Property Organisation, aka the place they store all the Copyright information of like, everything.

BEHOLD:

(pictured; THE ACTUAL FUCKING LOGO I CANNOT BELIEVE IT'S EXISTED THIS WHOLE TIME)

Link to the actual real official legal document because goddamn this rabbithole just kept getting deeper so I like, have that now.

For refence, here is the official copyrighted version and the Wikimedia file overlayed on top of each other. As you can tell, it's disgusting. It's a poor, eyeballed imitation at best.

The copyrighted logo is horrifically low quality because, guess what, that image also isn't downloadable or copyable from the page. I really really cannot blame Juanchocarbonero for uploading his own version to Wikimedia because there legitimately does not exist a version of this logo that is freely available to the public. Like that goddamn abomiation is all we have. It's the effort that counts I guess.

My mother suggested that a possible reason for this could be avoiding the production of knockoff merch, or at least making it recognisable in case it is sold. Think about it, when your logo Doesn't Exist online, no one can use it without a license! It's kind of genius! I'm also about 99% sure they didn't orchestrate it so, it was good luck I guess?

interlude: How the FUCK does Copyright even work

I did immediately think to myself "we should REALLY fix the wikipedia version, like, stat" because I cannot in good conscience have this information available to me and not do anything with it, for the good of the people. However, this poses an issue: was the logo really not scuffed on purpose? Could it be that that version uploaded to Wikipedia isn't a 1:1 of the official logo because of copyrighting issues? To find out I had to look deeper, by comparing the official, website-available logos of various other F1 teams I came to conclusion that: [........................]

Yeah so I wrote that paragraph before actually checking for refences, but even after probably an hour of trying very hard to make sense of the copyright documents and copyright law in general we could not make sense of any of it. According to my mother (again, the closest we have to an expert, like she actually works with copyright in the context of companies but she's not specifically an IP expert. just to clarify) it's actually a lot worse for Wikipedia to have a falsified version of the Williams logo, than it would be to use the copyrighted version. This is because they're spreading misinformation by pretending that's the actual logo. And yet.

According to the Copyright Tag (the one on the top) in the Licensing section of the Wikimedia page for the thing pretending to be the Williams F1 logo, it's fine to use it because just a bunch of shapes. The thing is however, that it says that for pretty much every F1 team's logo, most of which are sourced straight from the official website. So this doesn't really mean anything tbh. According to our local expert (still my mother) it's fucking confusing. So I've decided to leave that at that.

update October 20th: as far as the Wikimedia pages on copyrighting tell me, uploading the official logo could, potentially, get me into serious legal trouble with Williams because of copyright laws. Which is still confusing because as said, every other team's logo is sitting uncontested on their respective Wikipedia pages. So basically we still don't know.

Okay. Backtrack. We forgot to ask something very important:

HOW?

HOW does one fuck up a perfectly fine logo THAT BAD.

WHY does one make their own scuffed tracejob and HOW does it end up like THAT. Clearly something must have gone horrifically wrong for it to end up like that.

I have a theory as to what might have happened:

It was either drawn or painted by hand, for a physical paintjob it's actually sort of impressively precise, but still objectively fucked. For a while I outright refused to believe that it could have been done in a digital program with the types of mistakes that were made, but you'll see this theory (partially) disproven later on so I retract it for now.

Operating on the assumption that it wasn't done digitally, a likely theory could be one involving a picture of scan of the paintjob. If the picture was taken at an angle or the logo itself was on a curved surface that COULD potentially explain the weird sort of slide everything has to it.

From then the picture might have been inserted into a digital art program, and the area of the logo might have been automatically selected using the magic wand tool, which could explain the weird growth at the top and that odd rounded off corner.

We also drew the conclusion that the file itself had been "tampered with" (aka cropped manually) by a human, because no computer would generate a resolution of 3356x2543 (you can that this is the original resolution on the Wikimedia page)

WAIT HOLD ON IS THAT IT?

The question of how the Fuck this guy managed to mess up the logo, and even more specifically why some edges were fine and some weren't (ant colony looking thing on the top left) bothered us so much that I at one point started just looking up "WIlliams logo" with the results filtered down to pre-2017 in an attempt to find when exactly the messed up logo was created. As if that would be any help.

Now what I definitely didn't expect to find was THIS

ENHANCE

Yes, you're seeing it right, THAT is the original 'Williams logo with the fucked up arm angles and lenghts'. Which PROVES that, contrary to our previous belief, Juancocarbonero was NOT the origin of the mistakes. Instead it was [checks notes] a DeviantArt user by the name of Nerdkid56?

The original DeviantArt post, which as of 9:47pm CET on the 13th of October 2024 I am about 90% sure is the actual first appearanace of the scuffed logo, is from May of 2015, which lines up well with the original upload date of the fucked up logo onto Wikipedia (November 2016). At the time that DeviantArt post was almost the only source for the logo.

And in the case you needed any convincing that those two logos are the same, here they are overlayed. You may notice that it's one shape (excluding the rounded corner which isn't visible at this resolution.)

This discovery is essential to understanding why the current scuffed version is the way it is. You might remember our confusion about the way some edges are fine while some are attempting to leave the image, the whole thing is a weird Frankensteinian amalgamation of vectors and magic wand mistakes. With this knowledge we can now assume that the mistakes happened in 2 layers:

Nerdkid56: likely just eyeballed the proportions. I'd guess he drew one arm before the other and flipped it around without really checking the angles. Also didn't give a shit about whether the arms lined up with the base or not. Legitimately bad design made in a digital program.

Juancocarbonero: why he used the scuffed W logo instead of the normal ones that were also perfectly accessible by 1 goddamn Google search is a mistery. HOW he even got access to it is another question I do not think we'll have answers to. And I've already explained some of the things we think may be responsible for the uneveness and bumps. Point is he fucked it up even more.

My theory for why Juanchocarbonero used the scuffed version instead of any other available picture goes like this: it was the only png he could find. Practically every other search result for "Williams Logo" that predates 2017 is a jpeg or absolute ass quality (sometimes both for good measure) so, despite it's flaws, Nedkid56's trace of it could have been the best option available at the time (the quality is actually very very good since it's a vector image, and I guess our friend Juanchocarbonero doesn't have an eye for design considering he didn't notice uhm, everything that is wrong with that model.)

Conclusion

The only way to right these wrongs is to go back, to the very beggining of this saga. Wikipedia. Williams I'm so sorry for what you've had to endure. I know what I have to do now. When I eventually make a proper vector image of the official logo and upload it to Wikimedia it'll all be over. And I WILL do it (but not rn this has already robbed me of like 3 whole days of my life. soon)

All of this is, admittedly inconsequental, but also absolutely fucking hilarious. Like imagine. you. one single guy, you make ONE mistake in a silly little "tracing this logo" project because you couldn't be arsed to check the angles of a silly little W. And some other guy, who you likely don't even know, over a whole ass year later, takes your flawed piece of design, makes it even worse somehow and uploads it to a site from which your little tiny innocent mistake becomes the most widespread version of a logo used by an actual real company worth over 700 Million US Dollars. HOW. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN. WHY HAS NO ONE FIXED THIS??? IT'S BEEN 9 YEARS

Just to give you a final look on just how widespread this plague is, here are some examples of media the fucked up version of the logo is featured in:

this Mr V's Garage video (the original reason we started this conversation in the first place)

the thumbnails of these two videos by Tommo, this one by FP1Will, and this one by RicksF1Addiction

such an amount of random places. likely fanmerch and fanart, and like, pretty much any place someone wanted to use the logo. it's everywhere. if you've ever had the Williams logo displayed in anything you've made I can guarantee you 99.9% chance you used the fucked version

and late thank you to everyone ( @bumblewyn @mid-nighttiger @vro0m @lemonsgovroom @mikraas @leclerced fucking hell I kept needing to add people to this list because compiling all of this took absurdly long) who pointed out our misconception in the reblogs of the original post and contributed to us actually looking into this further. and sorry to everyone for accidentally spreading misinformation lmao (it's too funny not to have been worth it tho) (ALSO it's not really our fault is it)

and to keep the tradition of ending on a live discord reaction:

#please please consider reblogging this if you read through considering the original post (as funny as it was) was just spreading misinfo #williams slander themselves enough already they don't need us to do that #f1 #formula 1 #williams #williams racing #williams f1 #james vowles #williams formula 1 #f1 analysis #technical #lai core #nebrain #neb50 #neb100 #neb200

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communicationthroughlyrics · 8 months ago

Text

I Just Wanna be Yours

Summer in Westview hasn't officially started until the Rogers throw their annual Memorial Day Beach Bonfire. Now the torch was passed to Y/N Rogers, the local playgirl little sister of the boy next door, Steve Rogers. Your reputation preceded you for most, but you really only had your sights on one person.

One Wanda Maximoff.

TW: Daddy kink, smut, orgasm denial if you squint? Lol

A/N: Not proofread- let me know if you find any big errors :] Enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6K

Memorial Day weekend marks a few things for most. A long weekend, the start of summer break, barbecues, parties, and a day of remembrance. For those who attend Westview High? They circle the calendar for another reason- the annual Roger’s Family Party and Bonfire.

Your older brother Steve had restarted the tradition after finding out that your father threw the same party when he was in high school. Steve had been the All-American, the school’s Football and Baseball team captain. He was every girl’s dream high school sweetheart, kind to all, piercing stare paired with his dusky blue eyes, blonde crew-cut hair, and always clad in blue denim jeans with a t-shirt. His athletic build and confident stature paired with his boyish charm were endearing to all who attended high school with him, earning him the nickname "Captain America".

Now, it was you, in your senior year, carrying the torch that leads the who’s who of Westview High filling the Rogers family beach house for a day of barbecue (courtesy of Steve, equipped in nothing but swim trunks and his Grill Sergeant apron), music, booze, and a traditional bonfire on the beach at dusk. You had branched the family image out. You were the athletic, mysterious bad girl. Leather, ripped jeans, band shirts, tattoos, and piercings were more your speed, a stark departure from your brother’s more traditional appearance. You had recently made the switch from your long, charcoal locks to a short, spiky undercut that displayed more of the tattoos creeping up your neck.

Your upbringing was charmed, the typical "busy" American family with parents who were less than present. Your father was a hedge fund manager, your mother a successful lawyer. Both led busy careers that led them all over the country. You hardly saw them as a result, your nanny was more of a parental figure than your own. Steve was the consummate gentleman, while you ‘played the field’, having slept with most of the female population and moved to the neighboring schools. Even in Steve’s shadow, you were able to maintain a large social group, but never, really let anyone in.

That changed your sophomore year when a certain brunette walked in the front doors for her first day of school. Wanda Maximoff and her brother Pietro were star athletes in their own right. Pietro, the tall, silver-haired goofball was a track star from a rival high school, and stud midfielder on the pitch. Wanda, was a quiet, scholarly type, always in the top rankings in women’s golf and tennis. She was always willing to assist others with their academics, her affinity for science and math making her an asset for many. Her stormy, dark appearance kept most at bay, but she did have a tight-knit group of friends you never seemed to be able to penetrate.

You never seemed to be able to corner the green-eyed woman, wanting just a chance to talk, to get to know her. You were sure that her friends had warned her that all you would try to do was add her name as a notch on your bedpost. But this feeling Wanda gave you, whenever she shot you a shy smile or her viridescent eyes found you in class or at a tennis match, the butterflies and sweaty palms feeling, was beyond what you felt with others. She seems oblivious to the flirting thrown her way, many guys and girls trying to pull back her veil of mystery.

“Hey, sis.” Steve came charging down the stairs, clad in only his swim shorts as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a protein smoothie from the confines of the fridge.

“Morning,” you mumbled through your mouthful of Lucky Charms.

He rolled his eyes at your antics, polishing off his drink before throwing the bottle in the trash. “What time did you tell everyone? I need to start getting the food ready.”

“12 at the earliest. Open house, people can come and go.” You respond.

"And don't forget about the bonfire. It's going to be a good one." He grinned, nodding in the direction of the backyard. "I've got everything set up. Should be ready to go by nightfall."

"How could I forget?" you fire back, shooting him a megawatt smile.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. His smile was contagious, and it was easy to see why everyone liked him. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, but you pushed it aside. You had your own life, your friends. You didn't need to compete with him for attention. He winked at you as he turned away, heading out back to fire up the massive grill on the back patio and get it ready for the multitudes of burgers, steaks, bratwurst, and chicken that were about to be strewn across it.

Your thoughts drifted back to Wanda, and you wondered if she'd show up. You hadn't seen her at school yesterday, but you hoped that maybe she had plans to come. It would be a shame if she didn't make it, but you had your things to do, your people to see. You finished off your breakfast, glancing at the clock that read 10:15 am before grabbing your keys and cell phone and heading out the door to pick up the booze, sodas, and ice you needed for today.

Your car, a shiny black Maserati GranTurismo, started on the first try as you backed out of the driveway and made your way down the quiet residential street. The sun was shining, the sky a brilliant blue, and the air smelled of freshly mown grass and the sweet scent of blooming flowers. You hummed along to the radio as you drove, taking a right at the end of the block and heading towards the local liquor store.

The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few other early birds like yourself stocking up on supplies for their parties. You grabbed a cart and wheeled it over to the back of the store where the beer and soda coolers were. You spent the next few minutes selecting just the right mix of beers and sodas, making sure to get a variety of options for everyone. As you approached the front checkout, the cashier gave you a bright smile.

"This must be for the annual Rogers summer break kick-off,” he quipped, grabbing the scan gun and walking around the counter to begin scanning the items on your flatbed cart.

You grinned, a little embarrassed that the liquor store clerk had recognized your family's party. "Yeah, well... it's going to be a good one," you said, trying to play it cool.

He nodded, glancing up at you with a knowing look. "I'm sure it will. And don't worry, I've been to a few of these parties myself. I know how much work it is to make sure everything goes smoothly. Your family does a great job." His smile was genuine, and it made you feel a little less self-conscious about the attention your family's gatherings sometimes got. "Do you need any ice?"

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I'll take 12 bags, please." You added, reaching into your wallet to pay for the booze and sodas. As the cashier rang everything up, you glanced at the clock on the wall. You still had plenty of time to stop by the grocery store and pick up the rest of the food and supplies you needed.

The drive to the grocery store was uneventful, and you managed to get in and out of there with all your items promptly. As you loaded your car up with bags of chips, dips, and other snacks, your mind drifted to Wanda again. You wondered if Wanda would show up today, and hopefully, you would get the chance to talk to her.

When you finally pulled into your driveway and parked the Maserati in its spot, the yard was already filling up with cars and people were starting to mill about. The smell of charcoal smoke wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and music. You had to make multiple trips inside, but luckily your best friends Natasha and Maria were already there and helped you carry everything inside.

You had a couple of large coolers set aside for food, so Steve could keep the waiting items cold, and you could keep the typical sides like potato and macaroni salad chilled while the food was cooked. You had 2 coolers of sodas, and 5 coolers of booze to fill, which Nat and Maria quickly took over because they just wanted to throw ice at each other.

Taking the moment before more people started to arrive, you ran upstairs, getting into your black bikini, and black swim shorts and pulling a black tee shirt over your torso. There was no point in shoes, so you padded back downstairs barefoot, and out to the outdoor bar you would be manning.

As you were setting up the bar, more people began to filter in, and soon there was quite the crown milling in and out of the house. As you began making some drinks for a large group of people, you saw Wanda walk up with a couple of her friends, their laughter ringing through the yard. You couldn't help but smile as you watched her, her long brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and a cover-up over her barely there red bikini. She looked stunning, but little did you know that she would be putting on a show today, and you were the sole reason.

You caught her eye as she was making small talk with her friends, and she smiled back at you before walking over to the bar. "Hey, Wanda," you said with a grin, "Glad you could make it."

She returned the smile. "Thanks, I'm glad I did too. I haven’t been able to make the last couple of Rogers Family parties, and this looks like it's going to be a good time." She glanced around, taking in the crowd of people before leaning in closer to you. You gulp as her breasts push up her bikini top, almost taunting you. "So, what can I get from the bar? You've got quite the selection here."

You chuckled. "Well, you've got a variety of beers in the coolers, the proverbial White Claws and seltzers, some sangria in the far tap, and of course, my signature tropical punch." You nodded toward a tap of punch on the counter. "That's my specialty. It's got a bit of a kick to it, but I've had plenty of people tell me they like it." You winked at her, hoping she would take the hint.

Wanda considered your offer for a moment, her eyes lingering on the punch tap. "You know, I think I'll try that. I've never had your punch before, but it sounds delicious." She flashed you a dazzling smile, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest at the compliment. "Thanks, Y/N." You grabbed her cup, poured her a cupful, and slipped some fruit slices into her drink.

"There you go, Wanda," you turn, flashing a charming smile her way before sliding her drink over. "Have fun at the party." You wink again before turning to make some drinks for the group at the other end of the bar. You pretend to not notice the blush creep over her chest and face before she turns and saunters away, making sure to sway her hips to garner your attention.

As the day goes on, the party gets going. People are dancing, laughing, and enjoying themselves. You can't help but steal glances at Wanda now and then, watching as she lets loose and has a good time. She's enjoying your signature punch, and you're glad to see that it's helping her have a good time. Natasha took over for you after a couple of hours at the bar, and you found yourself poolside, laying on a lounge chair talking to one of your teammates from the softball team. Carol nodded at something over your shoulder, causing you to turn and almost spit out your drink.

Wanda was now walking towards you, throwing a towel down on a lounger a few spots from you. She sent you a shy smile, before turning her back and pulling the cover-up off her body. Your mouth went dry as you raked your eyes over her body, her milky-toned thighs and athletic body driving you insane. This is when you were glad for your dark sunglasses, as she bent over, straightening her towel on her chair. You were sure you were flush, as it took all of your willpower to pull your eyes off of her.

Carol smirked at you, slapping your shoulder as Wanda dove into the deep end of the pool.

"Looks like she's enjoying herself," your teammate chuckled.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, she is." You glanced back at Wanda as she floated on her back in the pool, her long brown hair spread out around her. The water seemed to cling to her skin, revealing every curve of her body. You couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal as the water continued to bead off her body as she swam around, talking to people who were also meandering in the pool.

You looked back at your teammate, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I didn't realize she was this... attractive." You stammered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I mean, she's always been pretty, but... I dunno."

Carol almost choked on her drink, before looking at you bewildered. "Bullshit, Y/N. You've had a huge crush on her since she started at Westview."

You blushed even deeper at your teammate's words. You couldn't believe you hadn't realized it before. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just... I've never really thought about her like that." You stammered, not wanting to admit your true feelings.

"Well, maybe it's time you did." Carol grinned, nudging you with her shoulder. "She's single, you're single. You two would be perfect together. And judging by the way she looks at you, I think you may have a better chance than you realize."

You shook your head, feeling even more flustered. "I-I don't know, Carol. She's drunk, she’s just being flirty. She’s made it clear since she started at school that she wasn't interested."

Carol sighed, shaking her head. "Y/N, think about it. Have you ever seen her date someone at school?"

"No...I haven't."

"Exactly." Your friend rolled her eyes. "Well, you should probably make a move before someone else does. She's been single for a while, and I think she deserves someone who appreciates her." She paused, looking over at Wanda, who was currently laughing with some of her friends. "And I think you're the perfect girl for the job. And my god, does she need to be appreciated." she smiles, nodding in Wanda’s direction, causing you to look over and see her on Pietro’s shoulders, playing a game of chicken against Steve, who had Peggy on his shoulders.

You watched as she fought to knock Peggy off Steve's shoulders, her muscles flexing, her intoxicating laughter as the pair fought for bragging rights. Both women soon fell off their partner’s shoulders in tandem, a loud shriek coming from each of them.

Wanda swam to the end of the pool by your chair, pulling herself out, and giving you an up-close view of the water dripping down her body before she made her way over to the lounger that was a few down from you. Your gaze drifted over her body again, before realizing she was watching you watch her.

Her cheeks flushed, and she cleared her throat, trying to play it cool. "So, Y/N," she started, her voice slightly deep from the exhaustion of being in the pool, "I heard you're good at beach volleyball."

You looked over at her, not sure if she was just being friendly or if there was something more to it. You smiled, deciding to go along with it. "Well, I've been playing for a while. It's not that special, though."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she took a seat on the lounger beside you. "Oh, please. Everyone here says that, but you're really good. I've seen you play volleyball at school a few times now. You're one of the best."

You blushed, looking away from her. "Oh, I dunno about that. There's a lot of other good players too."

She chuckled, leaning in closer to you. "Well, a group of people were gonna start a match down on the beach. Care to join us?"

You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Carol and the others. They were all busy talking and laughing with each other, and you didn't want to leave your friend alone. But the thought of spending more time with Wanda was too tempting to resist. "Sure," you finally said, standing up. "I'll meet you down there." You winked her way before going up to grab another drink.

As you made your way down to the beach, you couldn't help but feel a little nervous. You hadn't talked to Wanda like this before, outside of the occasional hello or passing comment in class. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized how much you enjoyed her company. She had a way of making you feel comfortable and at ease, even when you were around a group of people.

When you finally reached the beach, you saw Wanda standing near a group of people who were already gathering, clad in their swimwear as another crown began to flank the sides of the makeshift court to watch. She smiled brightly when she saw you approach, and her cheeks flushed slightly as she turned away to hide it. You smirked, setting the small cooler with water and Gatorades off to the side, swapping out your aviator sunglasses for the sports ones you wore out on the water.

You couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching as you played with a volleyball in your hands as you awaited the rest of the people who would be playing. Steve was carrying down a speaker so you had music to play to. Turning ever so slightly, you saw Wanda’s gaze locked on you, rather, your hands, as you threw the ball up and down. Deciding it was time to tease her a little bit back, you threw the ball to the ground and decided it was time to lose the Van Halen tee shirt.

She blushed even harder when she realized what you had done, but she quickly regained her composure, calling out for everyone's attention. "Alright, alright, let's get this game started!" she shouted, clapping her hands together. You pretend to not notice how she bit her lip when your abs made their debut, your tattoo down your side and back on full display.

The game started well, with everyone splitting up into teams. You found yourself on the same team as Wanda, and you couldn't help but feel a little cocky. Having her on your side was the perfect way to bump her around a little bit, to get close to her.

As the game progressed, you and Wanda worked well together, communicating seamlessly and reading each other's movements like a well-oiled machine. Your team began to dominate, and the other players started to take notice. Carol shot you a warning look, but you ignored it, focusing on the game and the girl beside you.

"Alright!" Carol stopped the game, calling an audible. "Nat and Wanda, switch!" she yelled, causing the two teams to moan.

You and Wanda exchanged a look before she shrugged and jogged under the net to switch sides, putting you across from each other. As you took your place on the court, you couldn't help but feel a little bit of nervous excitement. It was one thing to be teammates, but something else entirely to be opponents. You both smiled at each other, the tension between you seeming to grow in the air.

You shot her a sly smile, winking before Nat served the ball over the net.

You both watched the ball as it sailed through the air and then you moved into position, bending your knees as you readied yourself to spike it. The ball came down, and with a powerful swing of your arm, you sent it hurtling toward Wanda's side of the court. She jumped up, meeting the ball at the height of her reach, her fingers just managing to touch it before sending it flying back over the net. The two of you continued to volley back and forth, your movements becoming more fluid and in sync with each other.

The game progressed, and the other players began to fade into the background as you found yourself locked in a battle of wills against Wanda. Every time you sent the ball her way, she seemed to be waiting for it, her reactions sharper than ever. You couldn't help but wonder how much of this was due to the competition between you, and how much was simply her natural talent. Either way, it made for an intense match.

As the tension grew, you saw your opportunity. Wanda had just hit the ball high into the air, and you knew she would have a hard time reaching it. You took a step back, bending your knees, and then exploded forward, leaping into the air. Your hands connected with the ball, sending it flying toward her with all your might. But instead of aiming it at her side of the court, you spike it right at her feet.

"Fuck!" Wanda yells as Carol shoots you a warning glare. You fire a cocky smile back their way, before heading off the court.

She looks furious as you return to the sidelines, her face flushed and her breath coming in ragged gasps. You can't help but feel a little thrill at the power you have over her in this moment. You want nothing more than to see her lose control, to give in to her anger and frustration.

As you watch her compose herself, you can't help but admire her determination. Despite her best efforts to remain calm, you can see the fire in her eyes, the passion that drives her. It's a strange mixture of attraction and intimidation, and you find yourself drawn to it in a way you can't quite explain.

The next game starts, and you and Wanda are once again on opposing teams. This time, though, there's an undercurrent of tension that runs between you. Every time you make a move, she's there, anticipating it, blocking it with ease. It's almost as if she's reading your mind, knowing exactly what you're going to do before you even do it.

Finally, after multiple set matches, your team won the best of 7. Deciding that now was the time to get more to drink, you left the volleyball game in your brother’s capable hands as the guys began to play. You scooped up your shirt and towel, using the shirt to wipe some of the sand and sweat from your body. Now was the perfect time for a dip in the pool.

"Hey, wait up!" Wanda called after you, quickly catching up to your side. "You looked good out there," she admitted, her voice a little less sharp, but laced with a little bit more innuendo than it had been before. "I didn't expect you to be so... competitive."

You smiled over at her, feeling the heat of her gaze on your skin. "I've always been a bit of a natural athlete," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Besides, it's not like I don’t play sports at school or anything, Wanda."

She pursed her lips, considering this for a moment. "Yeah, but you never really seem so competitive in school," she said, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "It's... nice to see another side of you." There was an almost wistful quality to her voice that you couldn't quite place.

You shrugged, not sure what to make of her reaction. "Well, I'm just a complex lady, you know? You never can tell what you're going to get with me." You flashed her a cocky grin, trying to lighten the mood. You had reached the pool at this point, so you threw your shirt and towel onto the closest empty chair. "I need to cool off." you smile at her, nodding to the pool.

Wanda smiled back, following your lead. "Yeah, it is pretty hot out here." She hesitated for a moment, then looked around at who was at the pool. As she looked around, you took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to sneak behind her, giving her a gentle push into the deep end of the pool. She let out a shrill shriek as she fell into the crisp water. You jumped in shortly after, wiping the water from your eyes as you surfaced.

"That was cold!" she exclaimed, splashing you playfully. "You asshole." You smiled and swam closer to her, grabbing her around the waist. "But it was worth it, wasn't it?" She struggled against you for a moment, but eventually gave in, relaxing in your grasp. You couldn’t help but feel the butterflies at the skin-on-skin contact, the electricity was palpable. You quickly realized the position you both were in and let Wanda go. She sent you a captivating smile before swimming over to some people who were calling her name. You pulled yourself out of the pool, drying yourself off before heading up to where Steve's best friend Bucky was manning the grill.

"Hey man, what's for lunch?" You asked as you approached him. He grinned, flipping a burger on the grill. "Well, if it isn't the champ herself! You guys just get done playing?"

You nodded, stretching your arms over your head. "Yeah, just now. Tough match." He chuckled, nodding in agreement. "But enough about that. I was asking what's on the menu. You got anything I can help with?"

Bucky smiled, handing you a pair of tongs. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I could use some help with these burgers. But as for the menu, we've got burgers, dogs, and some of that potato salad you brought. Oh, and don't forget the chips and salsa." You took the tongs gratefully, picking up a patty and flipping it over on the grill. The smell of sizzling meat filled the air, making your stomach rumble.

"Sounds good to me," you replied, watching the burger cook. "And thanks for having me, man. This party is shaping up to be a real blast." Bucky smiled, and you nodded his way. You glanced over at Wanda, who was still talking to some of her friends, then back at Bucky.

"Of course, Buck. You're always welcome here, you know. Mom and Dad love you." you smile as he slips a burger onto your dressed bun, and you flip its lid over onto the meat.

The sun beats down on the grass as you take a bite of your burger, feeling the juices dribble down your chin. Wanda finally finishes talking to her friends and makes her way over to you, a towel wrapped around her hips.

"Hey," she says with a smile, "this is quite the party, Y/N. Thanks for putting it on."

"You're welcome, Wands. I'm glad you’re having a good time."

"Could you do me a favor, Y/N?" she asked shyly. You looked at her, a bit taken aback by the sudden request. "Of course, Wanda. What do you need?"

She bit her lip, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Well, I was wondering if you could maybe help me with something." You nodded, waiting for her to continue. She held out a bottle of sunscreen, a flush on her features.

"I, uh... forgot to put some on earlier. And now I'm kinda burnt, and it's starting to sting. Do you think you could...?" She trailed off, looking up at you with those big, green eyes.

You couldn't help but smile at her. "Of course, Wanda. Let's go find a spot where we can sit down and take care of that." You lead her over to a nearby table and pull out a couple of chairs. As she sits down, you kneel in front of her and unwrap the towel, revealing her bare hips. Her skin is indeed a light shade of pink, so putting the sunscreen on now would save her a world of hurt later.

"Okay, just lay back and relax, I'll take care of you." You say, as you gently push her back into the chair. She lets out a soft sigh and tilts her head back, exposing her neck and shoulders. You take the bottle of sunscreen from her and unscrew the cap, then begin to rub a generous amount into her skin. You start at her lower back and work your way up, massaging the lotion into her flesh as you go. You pretend not to notice the goosebumps that erupt in the wake of your hands as you rub the lotion into her skin.

As you work your way up her back, you can't help but take in the softness of her skin, the way it feels beneath your fingertips. Her shoulder blades are sharp and defined, and you find yourself tracing them with your fingers, wondering what it would be like to touch her like this under different circumstances. You snap back to reality as you finish rubbing the sunscreen into her shoulders, feeling a bit guilty for letting your mind wander.

"There you go," you say, sitting back on your heels. "All done." Wanda sits up and turns to face you, blushing a deep shade of red. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it." She looks down at the floor, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I guess I should meet up with Agatha and Peggy down at the beach now." She bites her lip, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. She sends you a shy wave before getting up and running to her friends on the beach, jumping onto one of their backs. You continue to watch her from afar as you finish your food.

"Hey, Bucky. You wanna toss the frisbee around with me for a bit?" You ask your friend, trying to distract yourself from the strange feeling in your chest. Bucky nods and stands up, grabbing the frisbee from the table. The two of you make your way over to the beach, joining a group of other guys as you all start tossing the frisbee back and forth. The sun begins to set, painting the sky in a warm, orange glow. You feel your muscles loosen up and your mind begins to wander. A chill begins to set in as Steve gets ready to light the bonfire, and you are sure that a large group of people have left for the day. You glance around, disappointed when you don’t see Wanda. You decide to make your way into the house, heading upstairs to your massive bedroom, so you could change into some sweatpants and a hoodie.

As you're changing, you decide to take a quick shower, washing off the day's sweat and sand. The hot water feels good on your skin, but you can't help but feel a little off. You step out of the shower, drying off quickly and throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. As you're about to step out of your bathroom, you are shocked when you walk into your room and see Wanda on your bed.

"Wanda?" You ask, confused. She looks up at you, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glistening with mischief. "What are you doing here?"

She grins and shrugs her shoulders. "I-I just wanted to see you." Her voice is soft and hesitant, but there's a newfound confidence in her eyes that you haven't seen before. "I mean... I had fun today, and I didn't want to go home yet. All my friends have already gone home, so I went looking for you."

You're taken aback by her admission. You weren't expecting this at all. "Oh... well, uh... I'm glad you had fun. You can stay if you want." You gesture towards your bed, feeling a bit awkward now. You stand there, shocked at who is currently on your mattress. This is the first time you are unsure of what to do, or to say with an insanely attractive woman in your bed.

Wanda grins and climbs over to the other side of the bed, plopping down on the pillow. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it." She looks around the room, taking in the band posters and trinkets, her eyes landing on your guitar. "So... what do you usually do when you're bored?"

You chuckle and sit down next to her on the bed. "Well, I play guitar sometimes. Or I'll watch a movie, or just hang out with my friends,” you smirk, walking over to the chair by your desk and sitting down backward on it. "But those are just fillers for my favorite pastime."

Wanda tilts her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Oh? What's that?"

You grin, feeling a thrill run through you at the thought of what's next. She fell right into your trap if you want to call it that.

"Well, Wanda..." you eye her up and down, a slight smirk on your face. "I'm hoping it's going to be you."

She blushes deeply, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. There's a newfound fire in her eyes that makes your heart race. “That's quite the line, Y/N," she smirks back. "What makes you think I'm like the other girls who have fallen into your bed?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, I don't think you're like them. I mean, I've seen how you are with people. You're sweet and funny, and..." you trail off, looking her up and down once more. "...and you're gorgeous." You stalk over to her, placing your knee in between her legs, and leaning close enough to feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. "But most of all, I think you're honest. And that's something I appreciate. You're not like the others."

She bites her bottom lip, looking into your eyes as she nods slowly. "And what if I wanted to be?" she whispers, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well, that would be a shame, Maximoff." you start, as her gaze darts back and forth between your eyes.

"Oh?" she asks, inching closer to you, her lip trapped in between her teeth.

"Yeah. That’s what I like about you. You aren't like anyone else."

You lean in slowly, feeling the warmth of her breath mingle with yours as your lips meet hers. Wanda's mouth is soft and yielding, her tongue dancing against yours in a rhythm that sends shivers down your spine. Her hands slide up your chest, over your shoulders, and around your neck, pulling you closer still.

She moans softly into the kiss, arching her back off the bed and grinding her hips against you. You can feel the heat between your legs, and you're aching to touch her, to feel her skin against yours. Your hands wander down her back, over the curve of her ass, and up underneath her shirt. You can feel the soft skin of her stomach, the warmth of her breasts pressed against your palms.

Her hands slip under your shirt, feeling the muscles in your back, before moving up to cup your neck, her thumbs brushing against your jaw. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you deepen the kiss, wanting more. Wanda's tongue darts out, teasing your lips before delving back in, their rhythm growing faster and more intense. The tandem you made out on the volleyball court seemed to carry over to the bedroom, as you both responded to each other’s bodies.

When you both needed to come up for air, you pulled away, resting your forehead on hers.

"I've been waiting a while to do that," you whispered, staring at her kiss-swollen lips.

Wanda smiled, tracing a finger along your jaw. "I'm glad you finally did." She leaned in, pressing her lips against yours again, their heat melding together. Her tongue darted out, exploring your mouth as your hands tangled in her hair, holding her close.

The passion between you was palpable, and you could feel it building with each passing second. Her body was pressed tightly against yours, her hips grinding against your erection as she moved in time with your kiss. Your heart raced, and your blood pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else. You had all but forgotten the party downstairs as you pushed Wanda's bikini-clad body further onto your bed.

The arousal was obvious as you caught a glimpse of the darker spot on her bikini bottom, and the glimmer that coated the inside of her creamy thighs. You groaned as you hovered over her, trapping her beneath your body weight.

"Oh, I like you like this," you breathed, as she arched her back upwards, pressing her chest against yours.

She tugged at your hoodie as her blown pupils found yours. "For someone who has been waiting for this for so long, you sure do have a lot of clothes on."

Your heart skipped a beat as her words sent a thrill through you. You leaned down, kissing her neck, and her collarbone, before moving back up to capture her lips once more. The taste of her, the feel of her skin, was intoxicating. You could feel the heat between your legs, and the need to be inside her growing more urgent with every passing second.

With a groan, you peeled off your hoodie, and then your bra, tossing them to the floor before pushing her bikini bottoms down her hips, revealing her smooth, toned legs. She gasped as you parted her legs, laying yourself between them. You ground your hip upwards into hers, allowing her to feel the strap-on that was hidden under your sweatpants.

Her eyes went wide, and she arched her back off the bed, her hands clawing at your shoulders. "You've got a strap-on?" she breathed. You laughed, pecking at the side of her neck, up to her ear.

"Daddy is always packing, baby," you whisper in her ear, licking the shell.

Wanda shudders, her breath catching in her throat. She reaches down between your bodies, feeling the thick length of the strap-on, her fingers wrapping around the base. "Oh, God," she moans, grasping at the waistband of your sweats, trying to get them off as quickly as she could in her state.

Her movements only serve to further arouse you, and you lean in, nipping at her collarbone as you watch her fingers fumble with your clothes. You help her out, yanking your sweats down your legs, revealing the hard cock beneath. She gasps, her eyes going wide with desire as she takes in the sight of you.

"Fuck, Y/N," she breathes as you push her thighs further apart and position yourself between her legs. You grasp the base of the strap-on, guiding it to her entrance, you can practically feel the heat and wetness of her waiting for you. She arches her back, lifting her hips off the bed, practically begging you to enter her. With a groan, you push forward, watching the head of your cock slip inside her.

Her muscles grip you tightly, her walls milking you as you begin to thrust slowly, feeling her body stretch to accommodate your size. You look down at her, at the way her eyes are closed and her lips parted, her skin flushed and damp with sweat. You reach down between them, teasing her clit with your thumb, feeling her tense and shudder beneath you.

"Fuck, Y/N," she moans, arching her back and meeting your thrusts with her own. "So big... so good..." Her fingernails scrape down your back, leaving trails of pleasure-tinged pain as you continue to pound into her. She's so wet, so ready for you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the sensation of her greedy pussy swallowing the toy before you, her vanilla perfume mixed with sweat and the smell of the sunscreen you applied earlier invading your senses, and her whimpering, whiny sounds as you mercilessly thrust the dildo into her.

Her hips rise off the bed, her breasts heaving as she pushes herself up towards you, her expression a mix of ecstasy and agony. You can feel the tension building inside her, the telltale tightening of her muscles as she nears her peak. You slow your thrusts, savoring the feel of her body moving against yours, her body milking the cock attached to your hips with each slow, deliberate push.

"Ask for permission to cum, baby." you kiss the valley between her supple breasts, her hands running through your hair.

"Y-yes, Daddy," she stammers, her hips undulating against yours, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. "I want to cum so badly..."

"Aww, baby," you tweak her nipple between your fingers, causing her to clamp her eyes shut and a pornographic moan to come from her. "You can do better than that for Daddy."

Her breath comes out in ragged gasps as you continue your slow, steady rhythm, your hips moving in perfect synchronization with hers. Her hands grasp at the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as she fights to keep herself grounded. "I'm close, Daddy," she whimpers, her body starting to tremble beneath yours. "Please..."

"Please, what?"

Wanda's eyes snap open, her pupils dilated as she looks up at you with a pleading expression. "Please let me cum, Daddy. Please let me feel you inside me." Her voice is ragged, her body shaking with the effort of holding back. You can feel her muscles tense and release, her pussy clenching, her breath hot against your skin.

You look down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and the way her breasts heave with each ragged breath. "You're doing so good, baby," you whisper. "Just a little bit longer for me, okay?"

Her eyes closed, her head falling back against the pillow in submission. "Please Daddy," she whimpers, her body arching upward in surrender. She holding on to everything she has, you can tell she is fighting for her release.

"Fucking beg, Wanda. Let me know how close you are."

Her eyes snap open, her pupils dilated, and her expression a mix of pain and ecstasy. "I'm so close, Daddy! I need you to make me cum! Please, Daddy, let me cum!" she whimpers and moans, burying her face into your neck as her nails rake down your back, leaving trails of fire behind them.

Her hips buck up against yours, her inner muscles gripping you tightly, her body tense with the effort of holding back. Her breath comes out in short, ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each one. You can feel the tension building inside her, the anticipation coiling tighter and tighter.

"Let go for me beautiful, let me see how I make you feel."

You watch as Wanda's eyes close, her head falling back against the pillow, her lips parting as she takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Her body tenses, every muscle in her abdomen tensing as she lets go. Her fingernails dig into your back, her hips undulating against yours, stuttering as her orgasm rips through her body.

"Oh, Y/N!" she screams, her voice muffled by your shoulder. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Her inner muscles squeeze you tightly, her pussy milking your fake cock as her pleasure washes over her in waves. Her body arches upward, her breasts spilling from your grasp, her nipples hard and aching for your touch. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and ecstasy.

"That's it, baby," you whisper, your voice rough with desire. "Let it all out for me." Her hips buck wildly against yours, her nails raking down your back, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tries to catch her breath. Her orgasm seems to go on forever, her body shuddering with pleasure as she clings to you, her lips parting in a silent moan.

Her pussy grips you tightly, her inner walls fluttering around your fake cock as she comes down from her peak. You watch in awe as her features soften, her eyes flutter shut and her breathing begins to steady. Her body is still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure, her nipples hard and aching for your touch. You brush your fingers over them, circling and teasing as you continue to thrust slowly inside her.

"That's it, baby. Just relax and enjoy." You whisper, your voice gentle and soothing. Her body responds to your touch, her hips moving in time with yours as she leans into the sensation. Her eyes open lazily, meeting yours with a look of contentment and gratitude.

"Oh...my...god, Y/N," she started, her breathy, husky voice making you swoon. Her body trembled beneath yours as she reveled in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched tightly around your fake cock, her inner walls milking you with each gentle thrust. Her eyes were half-lidded, gazing up at you with a look of pure adoration and desire. Her eyes widened as you lowered yourself down her body, the realization of what you were about to do hitting her. "Y/N, honey I don't think I can..."

"Shhhh, Wands, I've got you. Don't think. You have one more for me, I know you do."

Your words seem to have the desired effect as her body tenses, her breath catches in her throat. Her eyes closed, her expression one of concentration and determination. You gently blow a burst of air to her sodden sex, before nudging her perky clit with your nose.

"Oh fuck, Daddy!" she groans, arching her back as her hips buck wildly against your face. Her hands grab fistfuls of your hair, urging you closer, wanting more. Her inner muscles clench and release around nothing as you kiss around her lower lips. Once you dive into her, you plunge two fingers into her as you lick at her swollen clit. You alternate between lapping at her juices, sucking on her swollen clit, and twisting your fingers around to hit the spongy spot inside her, determined to make her cum harder than ever before.

Her legs tremble beneath her, her toes curl as her orgasm builds quickly. She cries out your name, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her body quakes as she holds her orgasm back. You can feel her pussy clenching tightly around your fingers and tongue as her inner walls spasm uncontrollably, her muscles relaxing and tensing in perfect rhythm with your ministrations.

Finally, with a long, drawn-out moan, she arches her back, her hands gripping your hair, her hips bucking wildly against your face. Her orgasm ripples through her, shuddering through her body as her inner muscles squeeze and release around you. Her juices coat your tongue and flow down your throat as you drink in her ecstasy. Her legs tremble, her breath comes in ragged gasps, and her eyes roll back in her head. Her legs locked you between them, and you swore that you could die then and there, and be happy.

Slowly, you pull back, watching her eyes as they refocus on you. She looks dazed, her lips swollen from your kisses and her cheeks flushed from her exertions. She reaches out, trailing her fingers down your chest, over your abs and lower, until she cups your sex that was surely dripping down your thighs. You had dreamt of this moment, of when Wanda Maximoff would end up here, and now, you wanted nothing more than to keep her here forever.

You fell next to her, a sweaty and panting mess, as she rolled over on top of you. "I am so glad I showered," you laugh, looking into her adoring eyes.

"Must be nice," she laughed, as your eyes drifted over her body once more, her breasts hanging before you as she hovered over your body. She sat back, resting on your lower abdomen, shrieking as the dildo still attached to your hips poked her ass.

"Well, now I think I need another," you laugh as you prop yourself up, pecking at her lips as her arms wrapped behind your neck.

"Yeah you do, Y/N," she smiled her million-dollar smile. "But, this time I think you should invite someone to join you."

You raise your eyebrow, gazing into the pools of sea green before you. "Oh really? Maybe I'll invite Nat. She said she needed her monthly shower."

Wanda giggles, shaking her head. "You're an ass, Y/N."

You feign offense, gasping as you rest a hand on your chest. "Wanda! Is that what you think of me?"

She laughs, shaking her head. "No, idiot. You should invite someone else. Like me. I could use a shower." she leans forward, tracing her finger between your breasts before looking back up at you, her lip caught in her teeth again.

"You keep doing that, Wanda, you're going to lose your lip," you pull it out from her teeth, before leaning in and kissing her gently and passionately. Your hands slid to her back, pulling her closer to you. She moaned into the kiss, grinding herself down onto your lap, causing you to moan when she pushed the toy into you. You shuffled her and yourself over to the edge of the bed, without breaking the kiss.

As your lips finally parted, you gazed into her eyes, seeing the lust and desire there, and knew that she wanted this as much as you did. "Well, if you insist, darling," you grinned, leaning in and taking her nipple into your mouth, sucking on it roughly. Her back arched, a quiet moan escaping her throat. "But I'm going to need you to be good."

She smiled down at you, her hands running through her hair, flinging it to one side. "Oh, Y/N," she sighed, "I'm always good." With that, she lowered herself down, taking the dildo back into her warmth, moaning at the intrusion. You groaned at the sight, watching as she began to rock her hips back and forth.

Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard and pebbled. She leaned forward, her hands on either side of your head, her hips moving faster as she began to ride you. Her skin was hot against yours, and the scent of her arousal filled the air.

"Fuck, Wanda," you rolled your head back at the feeling of her rocking against you, but her hands ran up the back of your neck and into your hair, guiding you back to her.

"C'mon, Daddy. Take me to the shower," she smirked, knowing that this was going to be a challenge. You firmly grasped her ass, stilling her motions as you lifted her till the toy was almost fully removed, before slamming her back down onto it. You smirk at the moan that left her, as you wrapped her legs around you, standing up to walk to the bathroom.

The cool air of the bathroom hits you both as you make your way to the shower, Wanda's nails dragging down your back as she holds on tight. You can feel her dripping down the front of you, her arousal making a mess of you. You step into your shower, slamming her against the wall and thrusting into her.

She gasps, her head thrown back as you take her roughly. Her hands slide up your chest, over your shoulders, and into your hair, tugging you down so that you're looking her in the eye. She leans forward, their lips just inches apart, her breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to come, Y/N," she whispers, her hips bucking against you.

"Fuck, Wanda," you gasp as you roughly fuck her against the cool tile wall. "You drive me insane."

She whimpers, arching her back as she comes, her legs wrapping tighter around you, her nails digging into your shoulders. Her inner walls clench around you, milking your cock, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Her lips part, and she gasps, her breath ragged as she tries to catch it. Her eyes close, her head thrown back against the wall as she comes down from her orgasm.

"Fuck," you groan, thrusting one final time into her, your release taking over. You grip her ass, feeling her walls clench around the toy as your orgasm drips down your thighs.

She sighs, her body still pressed against yours as she comes down from her high. You lean against the wall, watching her as she runs her hands through her hair, looking somewhat dazed.

"Well," you say with a smile, "That wasn't how I anticipated today going," You reach over and turn on the shower, letting the water wash over your bodies, helping to cool you down.

You can feel Wanda leaning against you, her breath still ragged from their exertions. "Yeah," she says softly, "I think... I think we both needed that." She presses her body closer to yours, their skin slick with sweat and sex.

You let the water rinse away the sweat and your cum, the heat from the spray adding another layer of sensation to your already overloaded senses. You idly run your fingers through the water, tracing patterns on her back, feeling the play of muscle beneath your touch.

Wanda leans in, pressing her lips to yours, her tongue darting out to greet yours, her hands slipping beneath the water to cup your ass. You moan into her mouth, feeling her strength and her desire pressing against you, the wet heat of her body. She breaks the kiss, breathlessly, her chest heaving as she looks into your eyes.

"I think we need to get down to the bonfire before Steve or Pietro come looking for us," Wanda laughs.

"You think they'd care?" you ask with a grin, as you step out of the shower and help her dry off.

Wanda laughs, shaking her head. "Probably not. But we don't want to give them an excuse to tease us, do we?" She winks, slipping on one of your loose tank tops and a pair of sweatpants. You nod in agreement, pulling on a clean pair of sweatpants and your hoodie.

"Y/N?"

You turn to face Wanda, who is leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, her expression a mix of mischief and concern. Her hair is still damp from their shower, and you can't help but smile as you take in her beauty. You swoon at the sight of her damp hair and her wearing your clothes.

"What's wrong, Max?"

Her expression softens at your use of her nickname. "Nothing, just... I don't want to go back out there and pretend that nothing happened, you know? I just want to stay with you."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Me too."

Taking her hand, you lead her back out through the house, watching the shocked gazes of those who remain. You wind through the sea of people, walking down the timber steps and out to the beach. The bonfire crackles and spits, casting flickering shadows across the group of people gathered around it. You can see Steve and Pietro laughing together, sharing a drink. They look up as you approach, their expressions changing from amusement to surprise as they see Wanda's damp hair, and her wearing your clothes.

"You two been having fun?" Steve asks, the humor lacing his voice.

Wanda laughs, shrugging. "You know, just us." She leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder. You wrap an arm around her, feeling the warmth of her body through your thin sweatshirt.

Steve grins. "Well, you two should get back out there. I'm sure there's plenty of people who'd love to party with you." He winks, and you can't help but chuckle. Pietro sends you a warning glare.

"Y/N, if you hurt her, I swear..." he growls, as Wanda blushes before burying her face in your chest.

You laugh, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Don't worry, Pietro." As you say this, you glance down at Wanda, feeling a pang in your chest at the thought of her being hurt. It's been so long since you've felt this way about someone. You've been alone for so long, just surviving day by day, that the idea of losing her... it terrifies you. "I may have a reputation," you continue. "but Wanda is the last one that I would do that to."

Wanda looks up at you, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She grabs your hand, squeezing it. "Thank you, Y/N." Her voice is barely a whisper.

Pietro nods, seeming satisfied for now. "Alright, you two. Have fun." He slaps your shoulder, then takes another beer from the cooler before heading back into the crowd.

You lead Wanda back towards the fire, feeling the warmth of it on your skin. She leans into you, her body pressed against yours as if she's afraid to let go. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close. The music starts up again, and the party seems to find its rhythm once more.

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #lesbian nsft #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen

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drcomttheo · 28 days ago

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Draco Malfoy x YN

summary: You are the first person who's been in his room.

warnings: Fluff, soft smut

words: 642

a/n: Excerpt from my fic "Inordinate Love" or find it on my ML that's pinned.

Slytherin Boy oneshots—ML

Slytherin Boy oneshots—AO3

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

"You have a very lovely room, Malfoy."

I can't help but smile as I am walking around his room.

He has many pictures from his childhood. "You were also a very cute kid." I observe as I am picking up a small picture with a young Malfoy in it.

It seems like it was one of those photos that rich people get taken for their yearly family portrait. "Thank you." He says back with a soft chuckle and head shake.

I place the picture back in its spot, slowly making my way around his room until I find something familiar to me. "Why do you have a Venomous Tentacula in your room?" I question as I make sure just to pick up the pot holding the small version of a really big plant.

A Tentacula was spiky and red in color, and aside from the fact that I am deathly allergic to it, it is a toothsome plant with mobile vines that try to grab its prey.

It has many different purposes, as it also has many different properties.

"I think it's pretty, and I believe people tend to see all the bad in things and never really see the beauty in it." He smiled at his own comment as he was slowly walking towards me.

Now that I looked around, I noticed he had many plants around his room; they were not big or overwhelming. Just the right amount to suggest maybe he should have been a Hufflepuff.

I giggle to myself, hoping he can't read my mind because if he did, he would kill me for that comment.

I set the plant back down gently where I got it. "I am allergic to those, you know. In fifth-year herbology, when we were doing a research project on deadly plants, I just barely nicked my finger on a stinging nettle.

Professor Sprout found out very fast that maybe she shouldn't be teaching with them, as I had to be rushed to the hospital wing. I was out for days. Lucky to be alive, actually." I smile slightly.

"I am lucky you are alive too." He smiled at me sweetly, making his way over to me, putting both of his hands on my waist, and I met his brooding gray eyes.

"Are you done snooping now?" He asks in a joking manner. "Maybe, maybe not." I say, breaking out of his grip, walking away while running my fingers along his dresser to his desk.

He looked at me with an impatient look. "Okay. Fine! I am done snooping." I fired back at him, crossing my arms and kicking one foot out.

"You better be lucky. I like you, any other girl/boy." He paused. "Well, first, any other girl/boy would not have made it to my bedroom, and if they did, they wouldn't be here long enough to explore."

What was he saying? Was he saying I was special? Was he saying I was the first girl/boy in here?

I decided I would mess with him a little bit because I can tell how much it actually makes him happy. "Are you saying I am special, Malfoy?" I ask, lightly spinning in a half circle.

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Y/N." I was taken aback, mostly because I was expecting a sarcastic response. He was walking towards me again but with more lust in his eyes, and before I knew it, he had picked me up and placed me on the desk, pushing me against the wall and kissing me.

He delicately took hold of my face, his hands tenderly resting against my cheeks. Our lips met in a passionate yet tender embrace.

I held him close, my arms wrapped securely around his neck. His hands gently caressed the small of my back.

The kiss was intensifying, and our desire for one another was becoming more powerful.

One hand of Dracos traveled down my body as the other clenched over my breasts tightly.

#slytherin boys #draco malfoy #draco x reader #wattpad #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #fanfiction #ao3 #harry potter

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buttercupblu · 9 months ago

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Studying with Choso🌱🫧🌷

Student!Choso x Reader|One-Shot

the deets: Poor Cho - he's been best friends with books and binders for weeks on end with little to no time for his favorite subject; You 🥺. With his finals just around the corner, his cram sessions are in full swing... and affections absent. So, being the angel that you are, you decide to give him a helping hand. w.c: 3.8k tags: fem!reader, fem!top/switch (kinda), teasing, nipple play, breath play, choking, handjob, praise, pet names, Ph.D student Choso|mention of: rough penetration, bruising, throat fucking, 18+ MDNI angel's note: what began as a daydream turned into my 1st (completed) JJK fanfic - go crazy, go stupid|don't talk to me about the latest spoilers ... pls 🥲

Sigh.

He’s been at it for hours now.

The clock ticking against the silence in the room made that obnoxiously apparent.

Hums of Lofi coming from the living room is your only saving grace. The peace and tranquility he needs to concentrate starkly contrasts the infectious heat growing in your lower body.

Nibbling on your nails proves meek, as your thighs, acting as hand warmers, begin to ache. You couldn’t help but palm your pussy while trying to resist the urge to interrupt Choso’s study session.

Again.

Your cunny kept speaking to you with a raging heartbeat. Begging you to march in there and demand attention as he’d been home for hours with little to no sprinkles of affection.

You groan, burying your face into your pillow.

“Baaabe,” you call out, a pout forming on your lips.

As much as you wanted to quell your growing pains, you knew this was a really important exam for Choso - one of his last hurdles before wrapping up his Ph.D program. Knowing how much it meant to Choso, you feel a twinge of guilt.

Your little man was on his way to wearing white lab coats and curing diseases, saving lives one cure at a time. A faint smile finds your face thinking about it. You could see him clearly, donning goggles and blue gloves; his signature spiky buns (adding to the charm) are truly adorable. His little face is a picture of concentration, completely absorbed in his work while taking measurements and recording data; you could almost hear the sound of his pen scratching on the notepad.

The image of him so absorbed in his work is both charming and impressive; it always makes your heart flutter.

You just knew that those bitches he’s going to be working with better watch themselves.

Choso in that element alone was enough to make you fold; you could only imagine working so closely with him for multiple hours and taking more than your fair share of quick glances—clenching your thighs to steady your desires to have him bend you over the metal table just to feel the coolness against your nipples.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Choso whines back. It breaks you out of your jealousy-filled fantasy. Yet, you find your fingertips damp from the arousal between your legs. “I just need a bit more time.” You hear the fatigue in his voice. Knowing your love is so tired and hard at work breaks your heart.

But that’s all he’s been doing as of late, and you felt as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages. Between his hours-long sessions at the lab and catching up on sleep, you barely had time to cuddle at bedtime. You missed his warmth, his strong arms instinctively bringing you closer to him as he slept. The way your bodies formed a perfect C as he kissed into your neck.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And you are surely suffering at the moment.

The multiple attempts to dissuade his attention from his books were fruitless.

Casual walk-bys in his favorite silky shorts of yours, the ones that hug above your plump undercuff, went unnoticed. You were sure he could feel the wind against his face as you swished by, making sure your cheeks lingered in his air for a second or two.

He paid it no mind..

It wasn't until you stopped dead in front of him that he finally turned his attention to you, pausing to follow his wandering eyes around the wavy rim of your shorts. The design stretched around your plush thighs creating an imprint on your body, marking your velvety skin. Your arms crossed firmly on your chest push your tits into full view; the accompanying pout on your face made his dick jump.

He sighs, trailing his hands up your thighs to the small of your back, and pulls you in between his legs. A deep breath follows as he inhales your rosy scent, savoring the fragrance he wishes he could bottle and horde.

His chin rests on your lower belly as he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “An hour. I promise.”

He peers over the rim of his reading glasses, looking on with a furrowed brow and pouty lip, squeezing at your hips.

You couldn’t resist melting when he’s like this.

His eyes beg for patience, but his hands, wavering under the cuffs of your cheeks, say otherwise. A gentle squeeze on your inner thigh confirms it; you bite your lip at his firm grasp, his eyes never leaving yours.

Fawk me.

"Hmph.” you lower into his lap, perfectly molding your body against his. Resting your head on his shoulder, your hands find solace at the nape of his neck. He's so warm. His arms find home around your waist, a sensation that always makes you feel so secure, so small. So needy.

You rock into him, the smell of his hair drugging you as you try to be as close as possible, barely able to control the need to dry-hump him for relief.

Oh, how his heavenly thighs would be a perfect candidate.

“One hour? You promise, Cho?” your whine, coupled with the dampness of your shorts, incites a bulge between your thighs. The friction of which alone could get you off if you kept up the pace.

This doesn't go unnoticed of course, and it took all of Choso’s restraint to keep him from dragging your hips back and forth himself, letting you use him like a fucktoy against your clit.

Or better yet, take you like this. It would be so easy for him to snake his arms under your legs and prop you up to bounce on his dick. He was sure the chair was sturdy enough to handle him abusing you.

The thought was mind-numbingly irresistible.

He tugs at his bottom lip, swallowing a moan and holding you a bit tighter.

“I promise.” pressing a kiss on your ear, his fingers float down your spine. You could stay like this for the rest of the night if it were up to you, but you knew his studies were critical. Besides, maybe your patience would come with a reward—a nice fat one. The one sitting neatly in his shorts, threatening to poke out from under you at the present moment.

But that was almost an hour ago.

The hour he promised he would be done by.

And lying in bed with your head hanging off of the side, picturing Choso ramming his dick down your throat, certainly wasn’t helping the throbbing in your core. You pull your hand from your shorts, marveling at the webs between your fingers. Frowning immediately after.

Fine. If he wouldn’t come to you…

You huff, sitting up to head to the living room only to be met with Choso’s back turned to you—his head buried in papers and woe. A mischievous grin plays on your face as you tiptoe behind him.

Your arms wrap lovingly around his neck and drift down his chest. He jumps a little, feeling a tug on the bottom of his shirt. Your icy hands slip underneath and palm his chest before he can argue.

“You keep it so cold in here, Cho,” you nuzzle into his neck, “How am I supposed to stay warm?”

Your hands snake around his torso until they brush his pink nips. The rhythmic beat of his heart picks up against your fingers. A slight tug elicits a groan from his lips. “Babe,” he winces, “What are you doing?”

You giggle, twirling them between your fingers before pulling out to caress his scalp—a certified soft spot of his and your favorite place to play.

To help him concentrate, of course.

You tumble through his brunette locks like gentle waves. It’s almost comical how easily his head falls back against your breasts. The sensation mixed with exhaustion turns him into putty in your hands. You gaze lovingly at his bliss-ridden face and softly closed eyes. Slow, shallow breaths escape his rosy lips as if he’s lost in a peaceful dream.

His naturally dark under-eyes show signs of how busy he’s been. anyone else would assume the purple hue came from sleep deprivation (partially true), but you loved how the blush features coveted his face. To you, they only enhance his already striking features, making him all the more breathtakingly beautiful.

Even without an impossible schedule on top of it.

You were enamored with his unwavering commitment to his ambitions, aspirations, and most importantly, you. It was impressive seeing how he seamlessly balanced his pursuit of success and his affection for you, always making time for meaningful moments together. On top of caring for his younger brother Yuji, the cutest little manic dumpling in existence, you couldn’t help but awe at his ability to juggle everything and still find a way to make you feel cherished.

The thought of it all sends butterflies from your tummy to your toes.

His exposed neck begs for attention. You lean, brushing your soft lips against the skin. Careful to ghost over his collarbone, sending trimmers to his ears. The temptation to swipe his earlobe with your tongue flashes through your mind, a feat you know would send his dick through his pants.

Instead, you slowly wrap your hand around his jaw, pulling his head back further. His eyes lock on your playful smile; his stunned face makes you nuzzle your thighs together.

“Y/N-” he starts but your lips silence the protest. He melts into your hand feeling your tongue dip into his mouth. His feeble attempt to object fleets like seconds on a clock.

Mint chocolate fills your mouth tasting the sweet treats he nibbles on to get him through the night. You couldn't stand the taste of chocolate-flavored toothpaste, but you would swallow a barrel full just to sample it from the lips that always took your breath away.

Quelled by your touch, Choso softens in his seat. How could he resist? Your tongue was nectar on any given day, and he was your hummingbird.

Your hands travel down his chest, lingering on his waist and treasured v-section. Something he worked on sculpting 2 to 3 times a week, though you swore it came naturally. A waist this slutty simply could not be built in a gym. It was your favorite playground on nights when you could not resist the urge to sink your teeth into flesh.

Followed by whines from Choso.

And your knees shaking and shoved against your chest for tempting him.

You pause before his delectable thighs, capturing an involuntary mew when you glide over them. Fuck, he thinks, I’m such a slut—battling between needing to study and needing your touch.

What began as mischief morphs into something brilliant, feeling your boyfriend writhe in his chair.

Pulling away from his pillowy lips, a smile forms on yours. He looks on, dazed, almost upset that you stole away.

“Cho..,” you breathe, “What is the central dogma of molecular biology?” His eyes pop open. Your fingers on his thigh slow. You hold a lustful stare, watching his mind search for the answers.

“Um, the flow of genetic information within a biological system?”

You nod happily, resuming your strokes. His lips twitch in response.

“What isss… the role of CRISPR-Cas9 in genome editing?” You inch closer to his inner thigh. His eyes flash to your hand.

“Aht aht,” tilting his chin, “Look at me when you answer.” Your fingers press deeper into his jaw, the result of which makes his dick strain against his shorts and stretch the fabric. Pulsing thumps vibrate through your other hand when you cup his length to still him.

Heat finds your face as you palm the growing tent. The boy had been blessed with a toe-curling gift that shot stars into your eyes every time it sank into your core. Your dainty little hands paled in comparison to the massive limb - it was a wonder how he ever managed to fit inside you - let alone between your fingers.

Yet, you still managed to take him so well, he thought. Stretching around him with ease, bringing curses to his mouth every time he bottomed out. Always so wet and ready for him at the simplest touch. It was more like your pussy always craved the challenge, sucking and swallowing him like a pure essence.

“Cho.”

The words catch in his throat. “It-it’s a genome editing tool that comes from bacterial immune systems,” he wets his lips, clenching his fingers, “It uses a.. guide RNA to target specific DNA sequences and Cas9 enzyme to introduce precise changes, like a um, gene knockout or uh….insertion, in various organisms.”

“Good boy,” you coo, pressing a plush kiss onto his lips again. He blushes red at the sound of praise. The words stimulating a part of his brain that makes him docile and dumb.

Raking nails and plump lips battle for his attention. He feels breathless at your touch. You barely had time to kiss each other before starting your mornings. And now, here you were, toying with him like a trinket.

The questions come with ease, a result of genuine curiosity and random peeks over his shoulder during long nights of cramming.

Difficulty increases as you rattle them off. The look of astonishment on Choso’s face says he didn’t know that you had been paying such close attention. You were no stranger to flashcards and practice quizzes yourself, having become accustomed to them during your undergrad studies. And though those four years may have driven you close to insanity, the habits proved permanent. And were being put to good use on your overworked boyfriend.

“Mmmm,” a thumb dances along the rim of his shorts, “What kind of stem cell research uses Patient-derived iPSCs?”

His brows furrow feeling the elastic stretch around his waist, “Umm, regenerative medicine, no, disease modeling and drug discovery.” skimming his hips sets his nerves on fire. A quick pop of the waistband sends him into outer space. The look of defeat is adorable, his glasses fogging a little.

He was so cute, so easily coaxed into trembles from the slightest touch.

You chuckle, nodding, “And if they can model human diseases, then?”

Searching for the solution sends him into a panic. His mouth gapes, but your fingers do not waver, pressing between his thighs, patiently awaiting his answer.

You can tell he’s overthinking it, second-guessing even. My poor baby, you think. Your eyes soften watching him. A gentle expression that reminds him why he tries at all.

With a soft tug of your thumb on his bottom lip, the answer is clear.

“...They can be used to help researchers save lives”.

The simplest answer is most often the best.

You smile, “Correct.” In one swoop, his shorts fall just enough to allow his dick to spring out. It slaps against his stomach, thumping against the cool air. A slick of arousal glistens from the head down to the shaft. You fixate on the lip-licking sight, hungry for a taste.

Choso’s hazy eyes are a close second; his struggle to keep them open is noticeably appetizing. The devil may be the most beautiful fallen angel, but it’d be a run for his money if Choso had wings.

Your hands are careful to tease his length, lightly drawing long lines and circles. Pressing your fingertips into him on correct answers, slowing when he hesitates. Pure agony wouldn’t come close to describing the restraint Choso is using to keep himself grounded.

Oh, how easy it would be for him to take you into his lap and fuck you senseless for being such a tease. To wrap his arms around your waist and bully you down onto his cock until you both gushed and mewed.

Truthfully, he was spurred on by your newfound dominance—each thump of his dick attesting to the ache and self-control he’s sustained over days of rigorous scheduling.

Tension had been building for weeks. Every encounter was filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. Brushing fingertips as you left in the morning. Sleepy hugs, that could’ve lasted longer, at the end of the day. The air was thick with a mix of desire and frustration as repressed affection hung heavy in the space between you. Every moment was a delicate balance of longing and limits.

You never considered taking matters into your own hands, literally.

Choso was so lost in the sauce that you thought it would be cruel.

But the way he folded under you like origami awakened something inside of you. Like fire to a flame, this newfound desire to take what you wanted was exhilarating. “Are you still with me, Cho-baby?”.

Choso has always been known for his exceptional memory. Whether it was recalling a complex molecular chain in the lab or remembering your favorite order at all the eateries in town, he never had any issues with recollection.

But now, he was sure he would forget his own name if you asked him. His short-circuiting brain grew increasingly useless against your skilled hands. “Hmph,” pulling your bottom lip with your teeth, “No?”

Grazing his mushroom tip turns his words to mush. His stringy pre-cum is a delicious lubricant for the circles you draw. "Mmm," you moan, imagining sucking it down your throat.

With a gentle press, it spills over your thumbs, soaking your hand and eliciting another stifled moan from Choso. You grin. It’s music to your ears and hell on your soaked panties, fueling a primal hunger that intensifies with every gasp and tremble.

Your throbbing cunt is an undeniable testament. Cursed with an insatiable need to be sopping and full.

It’s impossible for Choso not to arch into your hand, betraying his own body for more of your cunning touch—seeking more of the intoxicating pleasure only you can provide. Resisting was foolish—if you were a drug, Choso was an addict.

“Oh?” transfixing on his soft grind, “Does that feel good, Cho?” he blushes beet red, this time looking away, but you’re quick to bring him back, steadying his jaw between your fingers and instructing him not to move.

Fuck. He could cum just from the look on your pretty face towering over him, stern and seductive. “Answer me baby, use your words.”

His lungs feel cloudy as you wrap your hand around his length, his mouth falling open in tandem as you stroke up and down his length with ease, increasing pressure from the base to the tip as if trying to coax the words out of him. How you wish you could straddle him and do the same with your pussy—use the desk for leverage and ride him into oblivion until you milked him dry.

His breath matches the rhythm of your strokes in a needy way, sending waves of electricity from your chest to your toes. You can't help but press your breasts closer, cradling his head between your pillows like a second home. “Does. This. Feel. Good?”

He swallows, “s-so good… so. fucking. good,” it drags out of him.

It was a sultry vice grip, swallowing him with your stroke, stealing his breath. His last cling to sanity was his grasp on the seat of the chair, almost turning his knuckles pale white.

Despite being the giver and not the receiver, your own arousal equally intensifies with each desperate moan, shudder, and gasp that escapes his lips—the wetness between your thighs becomes almost unbearable. Every sound consumes rational thought, only leaving a craving for more.

Forgetting your impromptu questionnaire, you decide you’d like to see how long he can go like this, having been days since your last quickie in the kitchen, hips roughly pushed into the counter as he fucked into you. The sight of you reaching into the fridge, exposing your pretty panties, brought on the occasion. And suddenly you were very familiar with the cabinets as he spread you open for a taste. You wore the bruises for days like a badge of honor for taking him as long as you did.

But now, as you rolled your thumb over his supple slit, you were sure he could come undone in a matter of seconds.

He groans feeling you suddenly lick and nip at his earlobe, your devilish thoughts from earlier coming true. You kiss heat into him, twisting your hand up and down; he twitches with every pump, ears growing hot. "Aww baby," you purr, listening to the wet sloshes of your hand.

You bite the inside of your lip feeling your throbbing clit match the raging heartbeat in his dick. You'd slip your fingers into your soppy pussy and curl them until you came if they weren't so occupied with holding Choso's eyes on you. "You've been working so hard," you whine, "Are you gonna cum for me, Cho?" dipping down now and then to caress his balls, the squelching sounds battle for dominance over the serene Lofi beat. His only response being whimpers and a slight head nod lets you know that he’s close.

Your other hand slides down from his jaw to his throat, locking with a light squeeze. “Mmmph,” the restriction drives him closer, beginning to mindlessly pump himself into your hand. You squeeze at the base as if to milk him of all his worries. “I’m gonna…”

“You’re gonna what?” your pressure increases on his neck, matching the growing knot in his stomach. His face flushes, but you wait for his tell. He fucks into your hand, following a string of silent curses, when you see it, that familiar thigh twitch.

His mouth falls wide open, sucking in air, “F-fuck i-i'm cu-” you shove your tongue down his throat making sure he tastes you completely, stealing the air from his lungs as he cums. His hand entangles in your hair, the orgasm cracking like lightning through him as his seed spills over your fingers, shuddering from his hips down.

But you don't stop—continuing to pump, making sure to milk out every last drop. His pulsing dick provides a steady stream of hot spurts until his thrusts turn sloppy and his abs begin to ache. Your sloppy kiss silences his guttural moans until his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Finally, you pull away, a string of slick connecting your tongues, letting him breathe. The cool air soothes his heavy pants and heaving chest. You watch his spent face, his eyes following your fingers to your mouth as you lick them clean. The act stimulates his softening dick, adding a final spurt to the mess you’ve created on his lap.

You giggle, removing his glasses and setting them aside to plant a kiss on his forehead and blushing scar. A familiar ring chimes through the air. The sound you had become accustomed to on early mornings that started your day.

Hmm, he really was keeping up with the time, you think.

You lean down, smiling against his cheek, “Looks like your hour is up, babe.” You rub his surely sore neck and peck it.

His hand, still grasping your hair, catches you before you can pull away. Your eyes widened at the sudden shift. You gasp when he pulls you back, meeting his gaze as his lips curl into a sinful smile—watching his dick slowly thump back to life from the corner of your eye. He leans closer and whispers in your ear, his voice raspy and dry but very, very clear.

“Yours is just starting.”

art credit: mu_kmijj on twitter

#bluuharem #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x poc!reader #anime smut #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #choso x you #choso x y/n

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crescenthistory · 1 month ago

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hi babycakes i LOVE!!!! your fics. every single one of them. and i’ve been thinking…

klepto!barty!!!! klepto!barty!!!!!

barty who just can’t resist taking those cute little bracelets reader wears!!!! barty who’ll steal the occasional polaroid photo from readers dorm!! barty whos not as sneaky as he seems to think… in regards both to his thieving and his feelings…

and you know what? i love YOU baby, thank you for sharing such a beautiful thought

klepto!barty is so real to me, very much in the same way that pyro!barty and compulsive liar!barty are so real to me

in general, i fully believe that barty has self-destructive coping mechanisms and impulse control issues. together, that creates a very spicy and spiky mental health and public persona.

however, it's so interesting to consider how those affect his relationship(s) -> familial, platonic or romantic

i believe he is all-or-nothing in how he loves, and that often involves becoming rather obsessive in both positive and negative ways

and this is at every stage in the relationship – prior, during and after (though the last one will never apply to us ofc...)

he will remember everything you ever tell him. your favourite colour? he wears it. favourite scent? he sprays it everywhere. best memories? he tries to recreate them.

and god forbid you ever rant to him about someone or something that annoys you, because he will fix it. in whatever way suitable.

so yeah, he is not good at hiding his feelings

i think that when he knows about his feelings himself he doesn't really try to hide them either though, he owns them (and you) loudly and proudly

but this boy has a THICK skull and wouldn't know before you two kiss honestly

everytime you walk together he slips something in or out of your purse/pocket/bookbag

slips in something he knows you might like, whether it's a trinket or a crystal for whimsy!reader or a new pen or ink for studious!reader

and he takes whatever feels the most like you, something that gives him that warm rush

like a bracelet, a hairtie, chapstick

(don't even get me started on the obsession he has with your chapstick and lipgloss or lipstick. very much a "i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin" type of man)

in general, it's that rush he chases in everything in life – he needs to feel and he needs to do so intensely

barty was repressed and suppressed by his father for so long, that now if he gets the urge to scream at the top of his lungs, he cannot deign to deny himself that. it fosters chaos for sure, but it is also a quality that will allow you to experience radical comfort in a way you never thought you could.

when he takes something or does something he shouldn't have, it's like he can hear barriers and rules breaking around him like glass, and this little bitch loves it

he might even giggle especially if you enable him

this mf would not be above taking your journal and reading through it either – but he wouldn't even be sneaky or hide it then, he might even do it in front of you

barty always appears VERY comfortable in his own misdoings and chaos. he will just openly take the notebook from your bag, cross his legs and begin reading in front of you as you stare at him affronted.

you might say "excuse me?!" to which he furrows his brows in confusion and asks "what?"

when you become official, your closet is raided on the daily

no matter what house or dorm you're in. barty finds a way.

it is not uncommon for him to walk around in your jumper, but he much prefers when it's something more intimate and discreet that he can carry with him everywhere

like wearing your t-shirt or top beneath his school uniform – he loves knowing that it's there and it's yours and no one else knows

suffice it to say he never cleans your clothes before he takes them either; this is a man that's obsessed with pheromones

nsfw: he is without a doubt an underwear stealer, he hoards them away in his bedside drawer for when he misses you. and to just keep you close.

it's practical for you too, because there's always underwear ready for you at his place! no need to bring any yourself 🙃 end nsfw

he will wear your jewelry too, he absolutely loves seeing a piece of you on his skin

barty is for sure the type to get tattoos of and for his partner. again – all or fucking nothing. and with you, he always goes for all.

klepto!barty is so fun, but so is everything beneath it and what it represents 🤌 thanks for joining me in my brainrot

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afyrian · 18 days ago

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☆ the knight's heart

kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 734 | prompts: forbidden romance + royalty au

"i need you to do something for me," you stand beside your dedicated knight, one assigned to you as soon as you could go out on your own.

your voice comes out as a whisper, hands clamoring against his thick metal armor. his head turns to look at you, eyes showing through the slit in his helmet. you've always loved when you could see his eyes. the amber color that shines so brightly inside despite how dark it must be in there, the only time he's allowed to take it off being inside the castle.

"pretend i'm your lover, for a moment," you look back down the alleys of shops and people in the town square, cloak disguising how distinguished your dress is, "some of the other knights are looking for me and i'd rather not face my father right now."

sir kuroo's head leaches back, covered hands reaching out to hold under your elbows. his armor rattles as his head shakes beneath his plated helmet. "your royal highness, i find that proposal to be highly inappropriate. if we're found, i could be punished, you- well your father would be incredibly upset that you're courting a commoner," kuroo purses his lips, trying to please you as best as possible.

"sir kuroo, i beg of you. he's hounding me to meet another royal and i cannot take it. please, it'll be but a moment," you clasp your hands together, looking back to see more knights searching around the town center.

kuroo looks at them too, trying to decide if a moment of pleasure for you could also mean a world of hurt for the both of them. biting his lip, he pulls off his helmet, holding it off to the side. his hair is matted down some, his usual spiky hair pushed down with sweat and his helmet. "don't let me regret this, darling," he whispers, nearly taken aback as your hands reach for his cheeks.

"what? how else would one court someone? did you believe we would be simply talking to distract them?"

"my apologies, your royal highness. i simply didn't believe we'd be doing such a thing with your royal status," your knight looks away, face visibly getting redder, something you always saw when seeing other royalty attempt to court you.

you smile, looking away to hide the happiness that overtakes you. when your head turns, you see the knights just a few stalls from you, looking down every alleyway. turning back to kuroo, you apologize quickly, bringing your hands back up to his face and pulling him towards you. his lips press against yours, the crackly feel of his dry lips battles the softness of your skin.

he tastes like a stew that the cooks make for all of the knights, something you've indulged in one or two times with kuroo. his breath his hot, lips breaking from yours only to push back in with a heavier intensity. his hands reach for your waist. the metal of his gloves keeping the two of you from truly becoming one in this moment. however, it doesn't stop you from running your fingers through his hair.

it feels prickly in spots, the sweat having brought them to a point. you stand there for a moment, indulging in something that you'll never truly be able to have. especially when he has such a warmth to him that none of your suitors have ever had. they never have those amber eyes that bring you in every morning and every evening.

eventually, after what felt like forever, you finally pull your lips from his. however, you can't help but run your thumb over his lips, staring into his eyes that look to you with an intensity no one could battle. “uh- thank you, sir kuroo,” you step back, looking around before bowing your head out of respect.

kuroo smiles, “i believe i should be the one bowing to you, your royal highness. after all, courting you has been a joy.”

“couldn’t have said it better myself, sir kuroo. now, let’s go sneak off and see if we can find lunch to buy. unless you think the cooks are done with the knight’s lunch…” you grab his helmet for you, holding it up to him.

“they likely are, your royal-”

“please, call me y/n, kuroo. i believe you’re entitled to such a privilege after putting up with me.”

a/n: sorry for the terrible representation of royalty in medieval times gen. taglist (open): @maybespiderman @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #hq x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x you #☆ drabbles

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hinamie · 6 days ago

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Sending this as anon bc I'm shyyyy but hi!!! Ive been following you for a while and I LOVE the way you draw Yuji so so so much. Adore him even. He's my baby and I love him. You draw him so GOOD I go emotionally feral every time you draw a new Yuji thats how much I love him I was wondering if you have any tips when it comes to rendering his hair??? I've been drawing him for months now and I still struggle every single time I draw his hair and it's beginning to annoy me so much. I really really love the way you render his so I was sort of wondering how you go about doing it??? If thats not a bother of course. I can't stress this enough but I love your art and you've been a big artistic inspiration for me for the past few months!!! Hope you're doing well :)

hi anon!!! ik your question was about hair specifically but i got carried away and ended up with a timelapse of the whole render ..but i figured it's been a while so consider it a bonus! I'll go into a few specifics under the cut in case i get Also carried away rambling :'> it's a lot easier to Do than to explain but I hope u can still take something away from this <3

i'm on a painting kick so that means i mainly work by taking big swatches of colour blocks and then going in and refining them. u can see in the beginning of the video i start by just throwing down approximate colours and values according to where i want my light source to be before cleaning everything up. I use a combination of a hard angled chisel for flats, a chalky/textured oil brush to blur edges, and a textured tapered brush pen for detail.

rn the way i draw hair uses a lot of Big shapes that i try to separate into somewhat believable layered hairstyles by using small, high contrast shadows to give the illusion of depth. speaking of shadows, smth i play around with when it comes to yuuji specifically is shading his hair with colours that border on either brown or grey--depends on th piece ofc, there are times when i saturate this boy to hell and back, but i find using neutral shadows Grounds the pink a lot

honestly a good rule of thumb when rendering layers is light on top dark underneath fshdsdh a lot of the time hair rendering is just one big convoluted gradient. i break up the monotony with thin sharp lines around the edges where colours meet to imply individual strands, but lately i'm trying to cut back with how many strands i render in detail. i don't think this video is the best example of it (or maybe yuuji's hair in general doesn't lend itself well to what i'm trying to achieve), but ideally I'd like wider swaths of colour with fewer interrupting fine lines. megumi is a lot more forgiving w this i find

in a similar vein , i think in general it's rly hard working with hair like yuuji's which in official art is just . a nondescript spiky puff on top of an undercut... if u want to be more faithful to his design be my guest but i personally try to rectify his hairstyle by picking a few points of origin for the hair chunks in order to make the growth direction and volume make sense. since i draw yuuji's hair a lot longer than it is in canon, for reference i tend to look at a lot of women's undercut/pixie cut styles to get a better idea of how to layer everything. i like making his hair swoopy and fwippy rather than Spiky, if that makes sense

those r just some things i do, but honestly i wouldn't worry abt being terribly precious with it. hair is rly forgiving in that there are a million ways to make it look good , i think that the most important thing is being aware of your light source and adjusting your values accordingly. play around, see what works, have fun with it! and don't resist it if u find yourself being led in a completely different direction lmao ik i just went over my current process but i think i've brought up before how hair is often the most volatile of all the features i draw and i change up how i approach it A Lot .

i'll shut up now bc ive Already been talking too long but thank u so much for your kind words and I hope u found something abt this helpful!!!

#answered #art advice #my art #timelapse #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanart #yuji itadori #this was sitting in my inbox staring at me and i could not focus knowing it was there so i dropped everything fr a timelapse #i thought abt recording myself when i got to yuuji's hair on my current piece but yuuji in that one is a. too small and b. facing away #wld not have made a good tutorial subject lmao #also this is the fastest ive finished a render in Months my hand hurts lmao im out of practice #im always so insecure abt the quality of the advice i offer i RLY hope im not just spewing bs here #the thing about drawing for over 2 decades is that eventually u forget how you draw #ANYWAY now this is done surely NOW the universe will let me work on megumi uninterrupted.....

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aakeysmash · 11 months ago

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Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Previous part: part 4.

Next part: part 6.

A/N: High School Musical references (watch the movies!!!). I recommend you to read part 1 again, because a lot of references I made here are also said in the first chapter. This could look like a filler chapter, but it’s really important for future developments!

Word count: 2.2k.

You’re relaxing on your bed on a deserved day off, brand new AC on and a cold glass of orange juice in your hand. You’re scrolling on your phone, chuckling at various memes and sending most of them to Ochaco, who will probably complain about finding 62 videos from you and having to react to each one. You’re planning on doing absolutely nothing today, just munching on snacks and sleeping. Maybe you’re going to put on that show you’ve been wanting to see. This is the life, you think.

“FUCK THIS SHIT!”

You’re startled out of your mind, again. Katsuki has been screaming at the top of his lungs since this morning, but you don’t even know the reason why. You hear his stream of curses from the wall between your rooms.

You’re very annoyed: he’s ruining your perfect day off. How dare he. You throw punches on the wall for the upteenth time, hoping he will stop or go outside to do whatever is bugging him.

“Stop fucking doing that!” He screams back at you, and you get even angrier. You decide you had enough, so you get up from your bed and march towards his room. You throw his door open without caring about his privacy.

He snaps his head towards you, scowling worser than usual.

“D’you ever heard about fucking knocking?” He barks at you. He looks disheveled: his usually spiky hair is a mess, and you assume he keeps on yanking it; you can feel his eye bags, and he probably didn’t have a good night of sleep in two weeks.

“Damn, you look bad” you mumble looking at him from head to toe. You lose a bit of your anger and almost feel bad. Almost.

“Well, I don’t care, you’re ruining my perfect day, so if you need to scream go out” you say glaring at him.

“This is my fucking house too” he snarls. “If I want to scream because I don’t want to do this shit, then I’m gonna do it. You’re free to leave and never return” he responds looking you up and down. He’s got a point.

You scoff. Sometimes he really has the audacity to speak when he shouldn’t be speaking. “What are you even doing? What’s this big thing that’s bothering you so much?”.

He grits his teeth and stays silent. The way he doesn’t want you to know the reason why he’s so angry just makes you become more curious. Oh, I’m about to get so annoying when I find out. Just so you wait, Katsuki.

“Come on, don’t be a kid. Let’s make a deal: I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate if you tell me” you try to bribe him. In one of his nicest moments, he complimented the way you know how to “make it just right”, just to take it back immediately after noticing those words left his mouth. Also, your roommate likes to eat and drink hot things even if it’s summer. He’s a weirdo.

He looks conflicted. He really wants a sweet treat, and he knows that he’s not capable of doing it the way you do (he already tried and failed). He blames it on the fact you keep on saying that you add a secret ingredient that he doesn’t know, because there’s just no way he’s not good at doing everything he puts his mind into. He ponders about it for what feels like 3 minutes, where you both stay completely silent.

“I’ll even add whipping cream.”

You try suppressing your grin: he’s sold, you see it in the way he grits his teeth even harder. “I’m revising my thesis’ grammar.”

You instantly become smug, all your anger forgotten. Bingo. “The big buff Bakugou Katsuki is mad about some grammar? Really? I thought you were stronger than that, pussy” you tease him with a smirk on your face.

He tries throwing you one of the books he keeps on his desk, but you dodge it. Then you lean on his door and cross your arms, while he goes on and screams “GET OUT! You’re bothering me even more”.

“Stop screaming, oh my god”, you whine. “What would it take for you to return being the quiet kid at the back of the class? You’re so annoying like this” you say exhausted. You get one day off in 3 weeks, there is no way he’s ruining it. You’re finding joy in annoying him, though, it’s so fun.

“I was never the quiet kid, I ain’t no loser like you. Get the fuck out of my room” he bites back. He doesn’t need to know it, but you were indeed the quiet kid.

“Well, guess I won’t help you then” you reply, shrugging. You didn’t even ask if he wanted your help, and you didn’t come in his room to help him, but now you’re just rubbing in his face that you can go and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, while he boils himself away in his despair.

You start closing his door, yawning and teasing him some more. “Continue screaming while I go and watch Love Island without you”. You have to turn around to hide your expression.

You hear him curse under his breath. “Fuck, wait, I really wanna see that”, he says, sounding desperate. “Aren’t you enrolled in literature or some shit?”.

You face him with the biggest devious smile you can muster. “Yeah, why?”

The vein on his forehead is about to pop. “How good are you at correcting grammar?”, he says.

You look like you won the lottery. “Ooooh you want my help? Do you want me to revise your little thesis for you? Little ol’ me? Weren’t you saying to get the fuck out?” You say walking towards his still sitting form. He’s super rigid, like asking you to help him is requiring him all the strength of the world and the planets and the solar system together. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He tries the breathing exercises they taught him in highschool to manage his fury, when he really started managing his anger issues. You’re getting on his last nerves, but revising all he wrote in months is also getting on his nerves.

“Can you at least pretend to not enjoy this as much as you currently are? You’re a devil” he spits out. Well, he could’ve said something meaner, so the breathing exercises must have worked a little.

“Mean. I guess you don’t want my help then”, you respond, feigning innocence.

“Let’s make one thing clear: I’m a boss at doing shit like this. I’m just tired of doing it, ‘cause I’ve been at it for a day straight. I’m good at everything, so you’ll probably find a comma that I forgot to type, not much more than that”, he adds, glaring up at you. You’re now standing next to him, but the fact he’s still sitting has you staring at him from above. This simple act is driving him insane: if he’s not in control he gets antsy, and you seem to know it, because you’re standing really proud.

You decide on dropping the facade a little, because you enjoy revising things. And he does look exhausted.

“Sure, send me the file and I’ll look into it” you say. Now you’re going outside of his room to make his chocolate, but he thinks you’re just running away.

“Wait. What do you want in return?” He says squinting at you. There’s no way she’s doing it because she’s nice, he thinks.

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Don’t fucking “huh” me. What do you want? Why are you doing this?” He responds, serious.

You raise one eyebrow and stay silent for a bit, then you tell him “Because I’m nice? Have you ever heard about kindness? Not everything is a transaction, business man” then you close his door without waiting for an answer, leaving him confused and somewhat angry.

You start doing his hot chocolate while singing to yourself, when suddenly his door is thrown open and he exits it, staring at you.

“Tell me what you want” he says coming closer to you and crossing his arms. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You look at him and respond “Tell me what you neeeed”, singing.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“High School Musical? That one scene in the second film where they all sing in the kitchen? Really?” You ask, and he looks confused.

“I’ve never seen those films. They look pathetic.” He responds, rolling his eyes and looking at you putting whipping cream on his hot chocolate. You look shocked, and you hang your mouth open.

“You’ve never seen High School Musical?!” You almost scream.

He winces, rubs his ears and then proceeds to say “What’s so weird about it? It’s not like it’s a cult or something”.

“Yes! Yes it is! You know what? We’re going to watch it right now. And you can’t refuse, or I won’t revise your thesis” you tell him while poking him in the chest. Soft.

He kisses his teeth, huffs and goes to sit himself on the couch.

“I knew you weren’t doing it for free, manipulator” he glares at you.

You shrug, while putting his cup in front of him and bringing him some cookies. He mumbles a thanks, relaxing.

“I was going to help you regardless, but if I can make you suffer it’s funnier” you tell him, positioning yourself next to him and stealing one of the biscuits you brought for him.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“A bitch who’s going to do your work, so shut up and watch people fall in love in highschool” you bite back. You both roll your eyes.

Neither to say, he hates the movies with a passion. He thinks that high school is portrayed poorly, that Gabriella is the real villain, that they’re all pretentious bitches, that Troy should’ve went away because none of them were truly his friends since they weren’t supporting him.

You keep on huffing while he tells you all these “that”s.

“Katsuki, it’s not like it’s reality. It’s a musical. Just focus on the songs and the love, damn” you whine while throwing a punch at his bicep. He doesn’t budge and your hand hurts.

“That’s not my definition of love” he simply states.

“Yeah? And what’s your definition of love?” You ask him, curious.

He raises one of his eyebrows. “Why would I share something like that with you?”.

“Because I’m doing your work. And we’re friends. Sort of. And you like my chocolate” you respond, while blushing a little. You know you tend to be a little too curious and nosey, but it’s just because you pay a lot of attention to details. Details are everything to you. You’re quick to backtrack seeing his hostile behaviour towards this topic, and you start saying that it’s not a big deal and you should’ve minded your business, when he interrupts you.

“And what is your definition of love?”

He looks relaxed, like asking this isn’t that bothersome. Like he wants you to know you too. Like he cares, in some way.

“Love is a lot of things for me” you resort to say. Just how much can you be specific without scaring him away?

“Yeah, you’re waiting for me to talk about it first. I get it, dumbass. I’m not very good with words on this aspect though, so I’m sorry, but your curiosity won’t be quelled” he responds, rolling his eyes. From the start of this conversation he hasn’t stopped breathing normally, almost as if this is a regular conversation for him. He hasn’t stopped looking at you, too, but you’re trying to ignore that.

“Then let’s make a deal. Saturday we’re picking a thing that we think helps us explain what we think about love” you burst out. He’s about to protest, but you’re not finished.

“Love as in general love! Love can be outside of romantic relationships too, so let’s settle on love between friends! I’d never go out with you like that” you add. You jump out of the couch. You feel like you might catch on fire if you stay near him one more second. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like you’re something he wants to dissect.

“Okay” he simply responds. You’re dumbfounded.

“Really? You’re okay with this? I thought you were going to say no” You say.

“Yeah, but let’s say that we can both decide on either going out or staying in. This is not a date, you said it yourself, so I don’t see a problem with it. It will just be like one of our movie nights, it’s not like we never spend time together, dumbass” he says, getting up and stretching his hand towards you.

“So? Are you in? Or are you scared of doing something much less meaningful than me?” He tells you, smirking.

You glare at him and compose yourself. Then, you stretch his hand.

“Deal.”

Taglist:

@perfectsukii @sleepykittycx @what-the-jams @bakunianadecorazon @vensunzy @eyesforbkg @bffrrufr @imas1mpp @cold-deep-water @peonies-and-teacakes @berryvioo

I couldn’t tag the ones in pink :(

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #and they were roommates #bakugo fluff #barista au

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m-ayo-o · 1 year ago

Text

coffee snob

18+ smutty // character 21+ wc 700 selfshiptember; 1

Coffee, you like it sweet and milky, hot or cold, depending on the weather. And there’s this one shop round the corner from your office that makes it just right.

In addition to your requested extra pumps of vanilla flavouring, your usual barista is asking if you’d like whipped cream today.

You nod excitedly and watch him squirt it on top of your drink, carefully adding a fine layer of powdered chocolate.

It looks pretty. Too pretty to drink.

He slides a long spoon through the cream and sets it on a saucer with a small napkin.

Ever the perfectionist.

But this time when his delicate hands push your drink over the counter he decides to strike up a conversation.

“Does it taste nice like that?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at your sugary drink.

“Mm hmm” you hum and take the mug.

“Well,” he sighs and studies the drink in your hands, “as long as you like it.”

“You made it, so…” you trail off, taking the spoon and licking the cream off the end.

He gulps, his dark eyes following your movements.

“Well, thank you,” you chirp, pulling him out of his gaze as he waves you off, heading to your favourite corner of the café.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

“So, how do you like your coffee?” You question the dark haired barista the following week. He always looks so dissatisfied when he serves your drinks, almost as if it pains him to make them.

“Black” he replies simply, finishing off another syrupy concoction for you.

Despite his clear aversion to your taste in coffee, he always serves it beautifully. You love watching him work.

“Hm, isn’t it too bitter like that?” Now you’re asking.

He slides your drink over and looks at you from under those long, dark lashes.

“There are many different flavours in coffee. I can show you,” he replies. Seeing the café is fairly quiet he decides to take a break, leaving the few customers for his colleague to take care of.

And so begins the first of many lessons with your favourite barista.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You learn a lot from him, especially after closing time in the small store cupboard in the back.

He lured you back there under the pretence of selecting some coffee beans for you to try.

But you soon see his plan unfolding as he’s tugging up your skirt and pushing your panties to the side, not only educating you on the fine coffee that lines the shelves, but you also receive a humbling lesson on just how quickly he can make you cum.

It’s his fingers. You think he must have some hidden magic power in them from how they get your head spinning.

“Again?” he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching you eagerly grind onto him, riding out another high.

“N-need more” you whine shamelessly.

“I know, pretty girl. Just wait a minute,” his fingers curl and dip into you some more, “love seeing you like this.”

But soon your little whimpers wear him down. He rips off his apron, unbuckles his belt, black jeans pushed down and he groans when his tip slides over your wet entrance.

It was in the heat of the moment, you swear. You were just pushed up so close together in the tiny cupboard, feeling his body brush against yours. You just bent over to pick up a bag on the floor, feeling his hand on your ass.

And now you’ve got yourself all filled up with your sexy barista’s cock. Just like his coffee making, his love making is passionate, attentive, just perfect.

You find yourself gushing over him more times than you can count, his gruff moans going straight to the tight heat in your core where his cockhead is pushing.

And after the first time you tasted his cum, getting pulled off his cock and swivelled round to take his load in your mouth, you’ve become addicted.

Despite his numerous attempts to enlighten you, your tastes in coffee have remained unchanged. Your taste in men, however, has become very specific indeed.

Namely the tall, handsome barista, with an attitude nearly as spiky as his dark hair, Megumi Fushiguro.

selfshiptember!!

megumi m.list

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

#selfshiptember #selfshiptember 2023 #self shipping #self ship #self insert #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #megumi smut

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breezybangtanbebe · 5 months ago

Text

ExBoyfriendNamjoon was a little pathetic if you were being honest. Dig through that hard-bodied exterior, and you’d find that he’s as gummy as puddy when it came to you. Two years of being with him and putting up with the crazy schedules, lack of communication due to them, having to jump through hoops to conceal your relationship , all while dating rumors with other people in the industry didnt bode too well for the union in the end.

So when you’d had enough of his aloofness and emotional unavailability, walking away from him was mostly hard because he made it that way.

The extravagant gifts he’d send.

The endless late night calls and drunk texts.

The pop ups at your home.

The dead look in his tired eyes that pinned you with his repetitive questions.

“Why wont you talk to me?”

“Why cant we work this out?”

“Why did you just leave without hearing me?”

It was always the same.

But it was never something you minded when his insistence landed him between your legs, mumbling his pleas against your pussy.

Namjoon’s tongue felt like velvet against your puffy folds and you laid there spread for him on your bed with a hand resting against his spiky blonde buzz cut.

This was a new look for him but you weren't mad at it.

“Hmm?” you tucked your lips together and hummed partially for him to repeat what he’d just said, while also reacting to his skilled tongue on your clit.

Namjoon pauses licking you to lift his head.

“I said, just fucking come back to me already.” his voice thick and deep from emotion. It does a few things to you, your heart aching at the sadness in his tone. It also made your walls clench around the fingers paused inside of you that had been rubbing at your spot teasingly while he ate.

You lean up on your elbow as you panted, your own voice hoarse from moaning, and give your ex a quizzical look.

“Why should I? Youre the one who pushed me away..”

Namjoon should have expected such a response but he still seems confused.

“What do you mean? Im here arent I? Why would I push you away?”

You sigh.

This wasnt the time for another back and forth session with Kim Namjoon, the fucking debate king. He was just nose deep in your cunt a second ago, licking your towards a much needed orgasm after the week you’d had. Hell, if you knew letting him come over would result in a rehash of the last 2 months, you would have left him on read.

Being horny on a dull Saturday night with your ex was dangerous waters to be in.

“Y-you always do this! Namjoon, I..” you try to begin but the words morph into a sharp gasp and moan when those damned lips of his latch on to your clit. He suckles it in pulses while tapping it with the tip of his tongue. His two long middle and index fingers resume plunging in and out of you, pressing upwards to stimulate you exactly where he knew you needed.

“Oh shit..” you inhale sharply, your jaw dropping and brows pinching together while your hand pressed flat against the back of Namjoon’s head.

He groans and closes his eyes when you pressed him harder against your heat, his free hand coming up to lay flat against your tummy.

He had you fully naked while he’d only shed his shirt before getting down to business, so you knew his dick was hard and leaking in the confines his underwear and sweats.

Part of you wanted him in your mouth too, missing the taste of his pre cum and the weight of his girth on your tongue. But you knew he didnt deserve that type of treatment right now.

Hell, he knew that. Hence why he was working so hard on making you come undone all over his face.

The desperation was palpable with every sloppy kiss, lick, and suck against your swollen clit, and Namjoon’s fingers were pushing you towards dangerous heights. Your brain was close to going blank and settling in the type of head space where he could ask you anything and you’d leave your ego out of the answer.

“Please. Come back to me. Everything will be different. Dont you miss me? Dont you miss this?” he mumbled hurriedly after pulling off of your clit, his fingers steadily rubbing your g-spot.

Your keening is all you can manage, both of your hands now fisting at the sheets under you.

“Yes..fuck yes..” you slur, not even sure of what youre saying. Namjoon kept his eyes on your fucked out expression as he dove back in, lapping his long tongue over your clit a few more times.

“Yeah? Miss the way I make you feel? Miss the way I eat this pussy baby?”

His words were doing exactly what they were meant to do, push you into that blank space of lust drunkenness with a heightened desperation to cum.

And you knew you would. You always did. Namjoon was the type of man that wouldn't let up until you were shaking and calling his name, roughing him up with your nails dragging through his short cut.

He would always moan with you when you came, his husky groan vibrating against your pussy and damn near overstimulating you. His tongue slows its circles of infinity over your sensitive bud and the full warmth of his mouth smothers your pussy as he savors the taste of your fresh release.

One would think it was a fine wine the way it warmed his body and made the urge to pull his dick out and stroke it with your wetness on his fingers overwhelming.

“Fuck..” he exhaled at the thought, dragging his tongue up and down your seam to coax you back down from wherever his mouth had sent you. Your body goes limp, the hand that returned to Namjoon’s head sliding down the side of his face.

When you opened your eyes and gaze down at him, youre shocked to find his eyes just as teary as yours.

You sit up on your elbow again and frown worriedly down at your ex.

“Joon..” you call to him with what little of a voice you have at the moment, and your hand idles at his cheek.

His languid licks are replaced by tender kisses on your lower lips, then to your inner thigh. Then your palm. His lips are pillow soft and swollen from how passionately he was eating you, and they do little to ease you away from being stimulated towards wanting to cum all over his face again. He takes mercy on you though, leaning into your caress with his earnest eyes still locked with yours.

“I know Im a fucking mess. And I know how hard it is to be with someone like me..” Namjoon starts, holding your full attention.

“You deserve so much more. But I'm too selfish..I dont want anyone else to have you. I want...I need you to myself..” he sniffles.

You were still chasing your next breath when your fingers began stroking his face. Your thumb catches a fat tear that managed to escape and it inspires another to fall from his opposite eye.

Namjoon wasnt a crier. While he was emotionally expressive (usually through his music), it was very rare for him to allow himself to cry.

Especially in front of you.

Something you’d always resented.

“Joonie..” you sit up and Namjoon’s wide hands lift your legs from over his shoulders.

“I dont blame you for walking away.” he shakes his head, stopping you from speaking before he could lay all of his feelings bare.

“..but I just needed you tonight. Im enlisting soon and..and I just...” his voice breaks, the fear and smothering emotions seizing is tongue. You shush him immediately and scoot towards the edge of the bed to embrace him.

The two of you remained in this suggestive position with Namjoon on his knees at the edge of your bed,his large arms hugging your naked waist with his head resting on your tummy. You were fully sitting up now with your hands running over his back and over his head affectionatley.

Truth was, you did miss Namjoon. Terribly. It killed you to catch clips of his lives and seeing how tired and dejected he looked. How it seemed like he’d lost weight and wasnt sleeping or eating well. You knew he’s been drinking more often, and the scent of cigarettes mixing with his cologne let you know he’d picked up that habit again. It was clear that he’d been a mess without you.

And to be even more honest, you werent doing that hot yourself.

But there were just too many issues to work through with him that you both knew he’d never have the time to do with the type of career he has.

Tonight didn't need to be about that though.

Tonight, you were perfectly fine with allowing Namjoon to pleasure you since he knew exactly what you liked.

You both needed that.

#ambw namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut #bts rm #bts ambw #bts kpop #kpop fanfic #rm #rm smut #rm bts #breezy shorts

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strwbivy · 6 months ago

Note

I LOVE your suga/kage fic so much!! It makes me so inspired to write!! <33 Anyways, can i request a daichi or maybe osamu fic where reader becomes their manager?? How they would react maybe?? Thank you in advance, hope this fits your standards!! <333

MANAGE MY HEART — DAICHI , OSAMU .ᐟ

synopsis. you unexpectedly become a manager of the roster. you were doing your job great. doing some organizing, and helping the members of the team when they take breaks, but taking his heart wasn't part of the job!

wc. 3.2k words | genre. fluffy | cw/tags. no warnings, no yachi au (sorry!), f!reader, tanaka + noya duo mischief, slow burnish, catching feelings, onigiri lover osamu, food stuff (*´꒳`*)

m.list // hq. masterlist

you've got mail ✉ ! hey anon i just wanna say tysm and omg i inspired you to write?? ACKK you flatter me sm!! anyways i tried to make a longer fic cause most of my fics are short so yea <33

leftover mail ✉ ! i'm still trying to figure out on how i should format my fics since i'm not sure on how to do so andd i kinda got lazy with osamu's part because i just really had to finish this.

a/n: just a heads up but the readers are in there second-year!

♡—SAWAMURA DAICHI ( 2,040 words , 11,263 chars )

kiyoko being in her third year of high school meaning, she's soon to retire from being a manager. therefore, she needs to find someone that will be able to manage the rowdy behavior of the team.

so then, she began her search for a possible candidate. hinata had give her a list of people who haven't joined any club, if it wasn't for hinata's assistance things would've taken much longer.

and as if the stars were aligned, you were searching for a club to join.

you were approached by a very beautiful girl, asking if you wanted to try out being a manager. and with no hesitance, you accepted the offer and she gave you some important papers and gave the date on when she'll introduce you, before leaving off with thank you.

even though kiyoko had only met you once, she knew you were the perfect one to run as manager. she just hopes that none of the other ehem.. teammates would make you run off.

ʚ 🍓 ɞ

the date of kiyoko introducing you has arrived. you sheepishly followed the manager from behind, feeling a tinge amount of nervousness but at the same time you felt excited because you were getting to experience new things.

once you both have finally reached the entrance of the volleyball gym, kiyoko's voice cut through the air, calling out to those who were engrossed with practicing. she came in the building and you followed in suite. and just a few moments after you entered the gym, you were immediately noticed and got a few people came up to you.

kiyoko then announced that you were going to try out as their manager. then of course you introduced yourself.

"hello! i am uh [name] and i will be trying to be a manager here, and i hope that i'll get along with you all!" you exclaimed, trying to hide slight unease in your voice.

a few people then took turns to introducing themselves to you.

you then started to initiate short conversations here and there. you were getting quite comfortable with everyone until you felt lasers burning the back of your head.

the slight unease made you slightly shiver. you slowly turned your head, only for you to see a bald-man and a shorter one with spiky black hair with a streak of blonde, were staring directly at you with piercing eyes.

you were immediately taken aback, you couldn't help but stare back at them with a weirded-out face.

at that moment, daichi was just talking to kiyoko about the 'new' manager. he was mid sentence until the duo's antics caught his eyes. he excused himself to kiyoko and marched over to the two.

he slowly crept up behind them, and pulled them by the collar at the of their shirts. a sigh is then pulled out of him before he spoke in a deep voice.

"you two! stop staring it's rude!" he states with a frowned expression on his face before he picked them up like a mother cat lifts her kittens, with ease but in a subtle harsh manner.

you dumbfoundedly watched the man pick them up and toss them aside. he lets out a disappointed sigh before turning back to you. daichi then approaches you.

"ahh.. i'm sorry about those two, they're always like that."

he apologizes, bowing his head in a gesture of contrition, while simultaneously scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. but of course as the great captain he is, he breaks through the awkwardness.

"so you're [name] right? i'm sawamura, daichi sawamura." he says, reaching out his hand for a handshake as a warm smile came to his face.

you let out a soft laughter before responding. "well it's nice to meet you sawamura!" you cheerfully say, while you took his hand and shook it well. he then declines the polite formalities with a firm shake of his head.

"there's no need for formalities, you can call me daichi." he says, observing your face as his hand parts ways with yours.

you then nod at him. "so daichi it is then!" you cheerily exclaimed, as you plastered on a big radiant smile that almost outshined the sun.

the way his name rolled of your tongue, has left him flustered. a sense of butterflies in his stomach grew, and the pace of his heart became a tinge faster. huh? that's odd. he thinks to himself, contemplating if it was just the large amount of coffee he consumed this morning.

or was it something else? or something new?

his eyes drifted over to you, and he realized he had been staring without meaning to. "daichi? are you okay?" you asked, having your brow raised. "w-what? o-oh! yea." he replies stuttering, finally being pulled out of his thoughts.

daichi pauses for a moment.

" i'm just.. confused. "

ʚ 🍓 ɞ

after almost one long week of getting convinced by a human tangerine, and attending practice matches, or just practice in general. you were finally confident of yourself to step up and be a manager of the team.

everyone felt happy of course, as they were already comfortable with you from the star.

while this was happening, daichi was starting to have a liking for you. but honestly who wouldn't? not only you had all the characteristics and requirements to be the perfect manager, but you yourself were an absolute delight.

you were well-organized, smart, beautiful, and you cared for each of the team's members even if you showed it an aggressive way it showed care. and the way you carried yourself has him getting more fond of you.

daichi and you, became quite close as days went by. every interaction between the two of you was delightful, and for some reason he feels an overwhelming desire to be closer to you. every time you come up to him happily blabbering, a sense of joy overcomes him. he would talk to you, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

he would try to say a joke, but it comes off corny. he brings his hand to lightly smack his face out of embarrassment, thinking you wouldn't laugh but unexpectedly he hears a soft giggle.

the embarrassed captain snaps his head to look at you, and he starts to giggle too. a faded-pink tint grew on his face.

but unbeknownst to the two of you, two certain third-years were observing from the side.

sugawara, almost immediately noticed on how daichi acted. he then nudges asahi, pointing to the giggling pair by forwarding his head.

" look asahi, i'm not the only one who's noticed it right? " the setter asked, having a slight smirk on his lips. " hm? oh them? yea of course who wouldn't? he's clearly acting odd. " asahi says, curiously putting his hand under his fuzzy chin as he closely peered to daichi's flushed expression.

as the day ends, daichi waves goodbye to you while you exit the building. daichi was staying a bit later in the court since he was the one who's gonna close the gym, and it just so happens the other third-years stayed late to wait for him.

after waving goodbye to you he turns around, only to be confronted by asahi and sugawara, who both had a smug expression.

"so you and [name] huh?" sugawara teasingly says, followed by quiet snickers from asahi. daichi retracted himself while he gave them a questioning look.

"what? what do you mean 'you' and '[name]' ?" he responds with tone that was mixed with confusion and suspicion.

sugawara then comes closer and walks around him until he reached where his ear was. he leans in and whispers something in his ear.

"tsk tsk, you're not good at hiding secrets captain." he utters in a low voice, causing for daichi to get startled. suga then goes back to asahi's side, while having an amused smile on his face. "ah.. eh.. daichi, it's kinda obvious." says the hair-bunned man, adding a nervous ha-ha at the end of his sentence, hoping daichi wouldn't get mad at him.

daichi's startled expression, is now replaced with a scowl. he folds his arms as he looks away from the two. sugawara chuckles before he karate chops daichi's stomach.

"c'mon daichi! there's no need to get embarrassed!" he says to daichi who was clutching his stomach from the impact of the attack. a cheery laugh escaped suga's lips as he looks to asahi who looked terrified from his aggression.

and from that day on, a little secret was shared between the trio.

ʚ 🍓 ɞ

a few months passed by and karasuno has come out victorious and has successfully qualified for the nationals. and just before the nationals started, you had the idea to give each of the team's members a little gift, a lucky charm keychain!

you then spent a few days making the charms, making sure each keychain was unique as the person. you carefully made each of it beautifully decorated. and as you were finished making with someone's charm you moved on to dachi's. and an idea popped through your head.

recently, daichi has started to give you an itchy feeling, but not in a bad way. but you find yourself getting increasingly drawn to him, his presence stirred a fluttery feeling in your heart, and warmth to your chest.

the itch grew day by day as you spent time with him. the itchy feeling was unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

as the sensation became more overwhelming, you became more aware of your growing feelings for him. every time you're near him, the feeling becomes more intense. he then would question you about your nervous state but, you'd just say your just feeling uneasy.

coming back to when you were making daichi's charm, you had decided to add something to it. just to make a lil' more special than the rest.

the day of the trip to tokyo for the nationals then came, and you've decided to give it just right before the bus sets off. one by one, you gave each of them the lucky charm. they all appreciated the gift and felt more motivated than ever.

once you have given all of them your present, there was one more you haven't given.

you made a bee-line to where daichi was. your land lightly tapped his shoulder, causing for him to turn around. "oh [name]! is everyone ready to go?" he asks, having a slight excitement when mentioning your name.

"yup! so uh, i just wanted to give everyone something and here's yours." you then presented the cute orange and black colored charm on your small palms. daichi utters a gasp of surprise as his eyes sets on the gift.

"oh wow! you really made one for the whole team?" he enthusiastically speaks while he takes it from your palm. just as he was about to say his thanks, the voice of coach ukai interrupts him. you both then chuckle and head to bus.

small giggles were heard from sugawara as he sees the specific pair, but he was silence, with one look on daichi's expression.

daichi then sits down beside sugawara, the bus then started. he then looks down on his palm that held the lucky charm, his eyes observes each of the beads and he notices something. a small heart charm was in between on some beads, he then feels sense of shock.

he then asks for suga's charm, and he checks it. no heart charm. afther then he checks asahi's who was just infront of him, no heart charm. he then tries to take a peek with the others charm, and once again, there's no sight of the charm that he has.

a warm feeling arises on his face, and his heart thumped a bit faster. sugawara who was confused, on why daichi was quite literally 'inspecting' the other's charms notices daichi's face and that his gaze was fixated on his charm and he sees it.

a small smirk comes to his lips. "hmm someone's feeling quite special." he mumbles to the captain, his tone being an amused one.

his cheeks had a tint of pink, and a smile that reached to his ears.

daichi then lets out a low chuckle before speaking.

"yea, i guess i am a bit special."

♡—MIYA OSAMU ( 1,243 words , 6851 chars )

when you became inarizaki's new manager, osamu never really noticed you.

your presence was almost a blur to him, but it all became a clarity like going from a blurry image to sharp clear image, when you had brought those delicious homemade onigiris as a thank you gift for welcoming you to the team.

as soon his eyes set on the plate you held, he lost his self-control and hungrily grabbed an onigiri instinctively. the unexpected gesture took you by surprise as you looked at him dazed.

osamu single-mindedly, he licks his lips his lips in anticipation, while his mouth watered at the sight. slowly but surely, he takes a munch out of it. and oh my god, was he not astonished by the taste. another bite followed by another, his eyes waters at how savory it is!

with every chew and chomp he takes, his heart throbs with delight.

he savors each bite he takes, and after a few chomps, he finishes eating. he lets out a huff of satisfaction before turning to you who had a shocked face.

"these are amazing,"

"did ya' makes them yourself?" he asks in an unconcerned tone, as if he didn't just ravish the onigiri in just a minute.

even though you were just in a state of shock, you immediately beam up at his compliment, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. you nodded, saying,

"ahh yea I did! i'm glad you enjoyed them." you answered as some chimed in their agreement, compliment and praising the delectability of the homemade snacks.

the others then continued to enjoy the onigiris, as osamu inhales the aroma coming from the others' snacks. as he relished under the addictive smell, he pondered about on what ways you made the delectable onigiris.

he pulls himself from reality as he thoughts of a question, but to his surprise, you beat him to it.

"do you enjoy cooking, osamu? that's your name right?" you asked curiously, and osamu nodded, having a slight smile to his face as he replied,

"i do actually, i've always got a' passion for food and cooking, er.. mostly food. i also love creating new dishes and experimenting with different flavors and textures. do you do too?" he admits and expresses his passion for food as he asked you a question back.

"yes! absolutely!" you nodded your head enthusiastically as your eyes sparkled with interest when you finally found someone whose interest is also cooking.

the both of you then have a conversation about foods, cookery, and stuff that are related to those topics. he replies with a thrilled voice whenever you would ask him a question, and vice versa.

as you and osamu animatedly talk about cooking, a couple of the other theme members chimed in their own experiences observations, sharing a few embarrassing stories here and there.

"here i have one, 'tsumu 'burnt' cup noodles, i donno what came to his mind that he thought he had ter' fry it." he lets out a bried chuckle, while his twin immediately retorts back having a nasty glare as the rest of the team shared a loud laughter, poking fun at the embarrassed atsumu while they were at it.

osamu's chuckle faded into a smile, he then turned to look at you. an unfamiliar giddy feeling suddenly reached to his chest, he scrunches his eyes at the feeling, he tries to ignore it, but the more he glanced at you, the more the feeling lasted.

"huh."

ʚ 🍓 ɞ

because of the you and his shared interest, you both engaged in conversations. the both of you shared ideas about cooking and giving recipes to each other occasionally.

during one of your conversations, an idea sparked up in your mind.

"oohh osamu! i should bring some of my homemade foods maybe for a week? you could be my little taste tester, hehehe." you spoke excitedly, while osamu, without hesitation, fully agreed to the idea.

"sure, i do want to taste those delicious onigiris again." a drool trickled down his chin as he envisioned the well-missed food. you laughed at the salivating man, gosh, he couldn't just wait to have a snack of those onigiris once again!

ʚ 🍓 ɞ

in the first day, you gave him five of those onigiris he dearly craved for. and he gobbled them all up, carefully savoring each snack. seeing him truly enjoy them made you want to push your efforts to making more.

and so, in the second day, you made yakitori, grilled chicken skewers that were marinated in a variety of seasonings. and without any doubt, he eats the skewers with teary eyes from how good they tasted.

he's so gosh damn in love with you your cooking, the way he would outright do anything for you it.

for the next two days, you had cooked him mouthwatering foods like, mentaiko—spicy cod roe and okonomiyaki—a japanese savory pancake. the flavoring of each dish has him growing more fond and fond of you. his taste buds savored the flavoring, and your cooking always fails to not make his day.

and for the last day, it being the very last day of him being as your taste tester, you decided to make it a little extra special.

ʚ 🍓 ɞ

the bell loudly rings, finally! he'll finally get to eat some of your delectable homemades. he knows today will be the last day, he's quite upset, but he also feels glad that he got to eat so much of your delicious cooking for a week!

he exits out of the classroom, making a beeline to the canteen while he pondered and wondered what you had made him today. when he reaches the canteen, he spots you sitting on your and his usual spot.

a light smile appears on his features, as he skips through the busy crowds of students.

"[name]! whatcha' made this time?" he asks excitedly while he sits in front of you. his face visibly looks excited, awaiting to find out what you made him, making you chuckle before speaking,

"okay so, since it's the last day of you being my taste tester and stuff, i decided to make a..." you paused your sentence, reaching for something beside you.

you proudly set a bento box on the table. "bento box!" you happily said, as you awaited for his reaction.

osamu stared at the bento box with widened eyes before slowly taking it and took a short glance to you as he opened it.

a surprised gasp falls from his mouth when he completely takes off the box's lid, revealing a variety of homemade food. "aahh yes! thank yer' so much!" he says as he straight away digs into the food. you almost feel worried for him when he chokes on something when he takes a spoonful bite.

with each bite, he feels a sense of delight. his taste buds danced the marvelous taste. he then pulls up his head and looks to you with begging eyes.

"g-god, this is so good! please [name] let me be your taste tester for longer!" he exclaims, feeling a bit embarrassed, but he honestly didn't care at this moment.

your face heated at his comment, you can't tell if it's from embarrassment or something about the way he pleaded.

but nonetheless, you hesitantly nodded your head shyly. the man then happily smiles, gulping the food he chewed before speaking.

"i wanna be yer' taste tester forever."

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