#just place a bunch of objects in a room
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perhaps. a furniture store
#day 567890 waiting for infants#i actually think its so cute idk#every furniture show room ive ever been in has been a box so i will be taking no notes on the layout of this lmao#anyway this is what i do to unwind from work#just place a bunch of objects in a room#the sims#sims 4#ts4#ts4 gameplay#simblr#ng1
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I see posts going "Okay, I'll vote for Kamala, I GUESS IF I HAVE TO" and "omg if that's the best we can do I suppose I'll support it" and I'm like...
What do you people fucking WANT?
Let's run down how she's rated politically by some organizations that we vibe with, kay?
ACLU = 93% on civil liberties
AFL-CIO = 100% on trade unions
Human Rights Campaign = 100% on queer rights
League of Conservation Voters = 91% on environmentalism
NARAL = 100% on reproductive rights
NRA Fund = 7% on gun rights (we LIKE a low score on this one)
NEA = 100% on education
Planned Parenthoos = 100% on reproductive rights
In addition, GovTrack (which is a nonpartisan tracker) places her in the MOST politically left-leaning categories of Senators. So we've got a very liberal, woman of color who's spent her career trying to mitigate draconian tough-on-crime laws to benefit the accused and keep black people out of prison and decrease recidivism and that's somehow...just barely tolerable.
So I ask again...what is that you're dissatisfied with? Is it Palestine? as recently as March she was calling for a ceasefire and demanding aid to Gaza. Keep in mind she's pretty constrained as to what's possible to do in this situation.
Is it just that she was a prosecutor? That is an important job that needs to be done and we WANT people doing it who aren't rah-rah tough-on-crime Gestapo types, which she is not. We need prosecutors who are addressing the root causes of crime and looking for ways to help people escape the cycle, which she has done to the point that she was often called SOFT on crime.
So what is your objection here? Is it that her politics aren't 100% aligned with a bunch of Tumblr socialists? I got news for you...we Tumblr socialists DO NOT REPRESENT THE ELECTORATE. If such a candidate existed, they would not win.
Democrats struggle sometimes because our tent is large. Republicans just want you if you're a straight white man and preferably rich. There's room for a lot more types in the lefty side, but sadly that means a lot of room also for dissention among the ranks. This is how they get us. Let's not let them, huh? Just a suggestion.
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plug!chris catching you riding his pillow ᡣ𐭩
coming to your place after a long day of dealing was a natural thing for chris to do. so when he and some of his friends that tagged along with him had no more clients left, they suggested an evening at some fancy restaurant to spend their money. chris, of course, quickly waved them off because he wanted to spend his time with his pretty little girlfriend after being so busy the past few days.
so imagine the surprise he felt as soon as he heard the most lewd noises coming from your bedroom . . noises that he’d recognise anywhere.
he feels like a perv, but that’s the least of his worries.
chris peeks through the small gap between the doorway and your conveniently opened door; it’s just enough for him to see just how perfect you look. the pillow, the one he usually sleeps on, between your thighs, a wet spot visible on its pillowcase, your tits free from any restraint, with your finger cradling them gently, and your face . . . fuck, your face.
your have the most vulgar expression imaginable. god, you’re better than any wet dream he ever had. your face is tilted to the side, eyes closed with pleading brows pinched upwards. your cheeks were dusted with the prettiest shade of red. his fresh love hoodie is bunched up and being held up by your teeth to expose your pretty tits bouncing every grind of your hips you take, and you’re letting out the cutest little muffled whines and moans.
it’s no surprise that your boyfriend gets hard instantly, hands flying to his crotch with no hesitation as he unzips his pants, sliding down just enough to take his cock out. his bony fingers wrap around his leaky cock and hisses lowly. his eyes were solely trained on printing the beautiful image right into the depths of his mind.
a pitiful pout grows on his lips. he can tell that you’ve been going at it for a while now from how much you’re panting and how you lean forward on your hands every other minute because of the annoying, yet delicious burn in your fleshy thighs, and chris wishes he could be under you instead of that damned pillow, holding you down because he knows how much you squirm on his dick and pistoning his hips into you just right.
there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s definitely not going to do that, but chris wants to savor the thrill of this a little bit too . . . wants to watch you pleasure yourself without him.
you roll your hips so expertly that chris feels even more jealous of that inanimate object, imaging your slick stained on the pillow glistening on his dick instead. the hurried movements, how you know when to push down further and how to keep the steady rhythm, how your face twists in exquisite pleasure with no care for the world—your boyfriend can barely stop himself from cumming right then and there.
chris strokes himself to match the roll of your hips, teeth digging in his bottom lip helplessly as he feels himself getting closer, just like you do. your hips get more erratic, humping the pillow faster and faster while your muffled whines get louder and longer. chris grips the doorway with his free hand to not go through it and disturb you, completely head over heels from how fascinating you look.
the only thing he’s late to realise is that you’re not even watching anything lewd to help you reach your high, and that becomes clear when you start crying out his name in a high-pitched tone that makes him go weak in the knees.
he thrusts into his own fist uncontrollably, but reluctantly gains the ability to stop himself only after seeing your heavenly closed eyes open, the fucked out look taking over your face as he grips his shaft tighter to not cum in the hallway right then and there.
you cum with a strangled cry of his name, gripping the sheets with shaky hands to ground yourself.
you came thinking about him. that alone makes chris wonder if he should kick his feet up high and giggle like a schoolgirl or burst into the room and fuck your sensitive pussy ‘til your cum completely coats his cock. he chooses the latter.
you pant heavily, little moans slipping past your lips as you lazily rock your hips against the pillow. chris doesn’t let you bask in the post-orgasm haze, however, because he’s barging into your room unceremoniously. with zipped pants of course!
squealing in surprise, you yank your blanket over your body, nervously looking at him with big, startled eyes while he casually strolls over to your bed, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans and keen eyes focused only on you.
“chris. . i-i can explain!” you try to reason, but when your boyfriend simply smirks at you, you know you should stop talking.
“explain riding my pillow?” he’s only teasing, but it still makes you stutter and stumble over your words. you pout for moment, pulling your hoodie over your body before curling further into your blanket in sheer embarrassment. there’s an apology spilling out of your lips, but chris tuts at you condescendingly as he grips onto the blanket and pulls it away from you.
“fuck you lookin’ at? i want you to do it again.” there’s a smirk rising on his lips as he watches your eyes widen and your lips part to protest.
“but!—“
“nah, you wanna be a slut and ride my pillow. all i’m asking is for you to do it again, a’ight? then maybe, i’ll fuck you if you’re good.”
#raestromboli ᡣ𐭩#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo drabble#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo drabble#matt sturniolo headcanon#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolos#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolotriplets
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I'm thinking of how the 141 men react to you cracking your joints, either purposefully in Price's case, or accidentally on the others. Suggestive towards the end , MDNI
~~~
Like with John, you do that trend where you put pretzel sticks inside your mouth and ask him to pop your back and then bite down into the pretzels as you act limp. He'll immediately pick you up and start rushing you out of the door to bring you to an ER, panic evident in his face, jaw clenched, but his eyes are focused. He looks at you sternly when you explain to him what happened before bringing you back inside the room, still in his arms, and you can still feel his heart racing, muscles still tense but calming down as you soothe him, feeling bad about your prank.
You're laying on your stomach on the floor in Simon's case, just being in the way of where he wants to move, maybe with various objects around you as you are occupied with your phone. He'll ask you to relocate your activities, but you refuse to get up, and so he warns he'll just walk over you. He nudges your side with his foot, and when you just grunt at him, he places his foot on your lower back and exerts slight pressure, eliciting a groan from you until you both hear a loud pop from your back. He'll drop immediately to his knees, not minding if some of your stuff is digging into his legs as he worriedly checks on you, checking multiple times that he didn't hurt you. You just tell him how good that felt as you lay limply, assuring him that you are okay, that was a good pop. He'll then carefully pick you up and move you to your bed even with you protesting, and then comes back with all your stuff and rearranging them around you.
Maybe in Johnny's case, you two are sparring, he's got you in between him and the ground mat. Both of you sweaty as he tries to subdue you while you are doing your best to fight him off. He gets you into a headlock with his (strong, meaty) biceps, and you twist your head a little. Both of you froze as you hear your neck joints pop, and he quickly loosens his hold on you, cradling your neck with utmost gentleness, worriedly asking if you are okay and if you can still feel your limbs. He'll lay you down gently and refuse to let you get up until you assure him multiple times that your neck just popped, it didn't hurt and you are fine. He'll beam his worried blue eyes over you and refuse to continue sparring, opting to just hug you protectively into his chest after, leaving you with no choice but to be sticky with both of your sweat cooling off.
Or you are making out with Kyle, his big, warm hands roaming over your body, your curves, as you grab at his slender neck, both consumed in fiery passion. You gently push him off you, away from the wall where you both heatedly started when your simmering gazes and coy words weren't enough to dampen the heat in between, and you guide him towards the sofa, him falling back on it with your nudge, his brown eyes roaming over you appreciatively. You slot your lips with him again, trying to clamber over and straddle him, when you hear not just one but both of your knees pop as you try to settle. He pries his mouth off you urgently, moving you to relieve pressure off your knees by sitting you sideways in his lap, inspecting and checking over as you laughingly told him it was just your joints cracking. Oh you best believe he will be the only one on his knees when he picks you up and brings you to your bedroom.
~~~
Power is out in my house since last night due to thunderstorm, which is apparently when my creative juices start flowing. I'm glad I'm a prepper who has a powerbank for my phone as well as a battery-powered fan, a bunch of flashlights, and a hand-crank emergency radio/flashlight/charger
#my brain worms are at it today#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#john price#john price x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#call of duty
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do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx
'No location found'
pairing: peter parker x reader
a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!
warnings: none
masterlist, requests are open !!
“That’s not what I said!”
“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”
You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again.
You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him. The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.
“Y/N please-”
“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”
His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”
You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.
“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.
Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”
Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away.
“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion.
“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged.
'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”
“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.
He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad.
“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”
You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”
There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.
You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.
After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch.
Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.
I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it.
You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-
You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved.
You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.”
“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”
“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.
“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place.
“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her.
“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”
“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”
You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight.
You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already.
You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything.
“Peter! I need real criticism!”
“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”
You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book.
Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving.
He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though.
He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.
That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you.
He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together.
On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more.
He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter.
Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten.
He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge.
“Went out. Be home late.”
His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.
All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.
Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly.
He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe.
An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response.
It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird.
He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail.
What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.
This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-
He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay. He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start.
He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that.
“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away.
“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”
“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred.
“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay.
“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.
He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”
“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”
Peter let out a sigh of relief.
“Or, she was.” He held his breath again.
“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”
“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.
He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”
“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”
His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault.
“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated.
“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this.
He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.
There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you.
You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe.
You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit.
On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home.
Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away.
Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.
You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.
“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.
“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer.
Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”
“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”
“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little.
You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead.
“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”
“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face.
He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”
You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”
“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.
“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”
You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.
He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.
You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”
You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”
He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”
You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!”
“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again.
“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him.
“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging.
#peter parker#writing#tom holland#andrew garfield#marvel#fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker fluff#peter parker x you#peter x you#peter parker imagines#peter parker angst#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker writing#avengers x reader#avengers#the avengers#tom holland!peter parker x reader#mcu!spiderman x reader#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter parker x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland angst#fanfiction#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Tis The Damn Season
♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas
♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader
♥ synopsis: lando’s certainly feeling the pressure of gift giving this holiday season. he wanted to give you something to show you he truly cares and turns to the grid for help.
♥ wc: 1.1k - as always none of the pictures are mine
♥ warnings: swearing and fluffy fluff fluff !!!
♥ a/n: first day of ficmas with some platonic norstappen <3
Grill the Grid Secret Santa was a video all the fans looked forward to. It was a cute tradition—but everyone always ended up with a bunch of random crap they didn’t know what to do with. But after pulling your name this year, Lando had to make sure the gift was perfect
“I don’t see why you’re taking this so seriously,” Max laughed. “Charles cut out pictures of his own face for me a few years ago.”
“How romantic,” Lando replied, drawing an eye roll from Max. “I just don’t know what to get her.”
Max took a swig of beer, “And you think I do?”
Lando sighed, “I don’t know… I just—I don’t want to get her some random shit object that she’s gonna throw away. I want it to be important.”
“And when I asked you if you were into this girl you said no,” Max smirked.
“Shut up,” Lando said with a playful eye roll.
-
Lando
what the fuck do i actually get y/n for secret santa
Charles
You’re not supposed to tell us who you got :(
Carlos
Get her a jumper
Lando
I’m not getting her a lame ass jumper
Pierre
…i got carlos a jumper one year
Lando
I’m aware
-
Lando sighed and clicked off his phone, the only light source in his room. He switched on his bedside lamp and wandered around his bedroom looking for ideas.
He stepped towards a shelf, a few helmets and tchotchkes on display along with a framed picture of the two of you from your karting days. Sitting beside it was a few broken shards of china.
-2023 Hungarian Grand Prix-
Despite the cheering in the grand stands, you could hear the cracking of your first trophy as clear as day. The beautiful hand painted porcelain hit the ground hard, breaking in three different places after Lando popped the champagne.
It wasn't his fault of course. Accidents happen all the time. It was still a shame though. The first woman to win an F1 Grand Prix and her trophy breaks?
"This is misogyny, actually," your PR manager Morgan said, eliciting a laugh from you and a few drivers.
"I'm so sorry Y/n, I had no idea that would happen," Lando apologized profusely, a look of sincerity in his eyes.
"No, no, don't be sorry. It's okay," you promised.
"Congratulations, seriously. You had an amazing drive," Max praised you while wiping the sweat off the back of his neck.
You adjusted your cap, pulling your ponytail through the space between the clasp and fabric.
"'Thank you," you say breathlessly, gulping down a cold bottle of water.
"Alright, post race interviews for everyone and I'll find out about your new trophy Y/n," Morgan said, setting the broken pieces of porcelain on a table.
Your head spun with ideas what was going to happen to the broken ceramic. Whatever you had in mind never came close to what actually did happen with it.
Lando thought, "Maybe I could try finding the rest of the pieces and rebuild it?"
Absolutely not. Give her own fucking trophy to her as a gift? How lame.
He played with the jewelry on his veiny hands anxiously, caring way too much about the impression his future gift would give you.
Within seconds of this he was struck with the most perfect idea. He tucked the pieces of your trophy into his pocket and quickly made it out the front door, ready to begin a perfect Secret Santa.
-
“Alright,” an interviewer handed you a small box that was wrapped with colorful paper and a bow. “We need you to guess who this is from.”
You shook it carefully, noticing some rounded ridges that stuck out. You gently slipped the ribbon off with a single pull, used the tip of your nail to slice through some clear tape, and unwrapped the gift.
From the moment you pulled it out, everyone knew it was a ring box. The black velvet encapsulating it said everything.
“Wow am I getting proposed to on grill the grid?” you joked, stirring a laugh from the filming crew.
You opened the case to reveal a ring front and center. It wasn’t just any kind of ring though. There was gold rimming around the band and the purple-ish pink design that stood out perfectly on the white porcelain.
Along with that was a folded up picture of you and Lando. The one from karting. The same one he had in his bedroom.
Your heart completely melted, remembering the days where you two were so close.
“Well, this is clearly from Lando,” you smiled with a soft laugh, putting a hand over your heart.
“May I see the ring?” the woman interviewing you asked.
“Mhm,” you nodded, handing her over the glossy object.
She squinted to get a good look at the design.
“This looks like the hungary trophies you know,” she said, looking back up to you.
“It does,” a crew member agreed.
You held your hand out for the small object back and inspected it yourself. It couldn't possibly be...?
It was.
You placed the folded picture back into the box and kept the ring in your palm.
“Hang on,” you pulled out your phone and called Lando as the cameras kept rolling.
“Can you come over here? We’re by Ferrari hospitality.”
Within minutes Lando made his way to you alongside Max.
“Is this from my trophy in Hungary?” you held up the ring with two fingers.
“Yeah,” Lando nodded.
“Did you fucking steal my trophy?” you laughed.
“Only like a few pieces,” he held his hands up in surrender with a playful smile. “There were some on the floor that I stashed in my pocket to figure out what to do with later. Maybe ask an FIA person but we all know I didn't get around to that. What do you know? They were in my pockets at the end of the day and i just kept them on a shelf.”
“Well good thing you did,” you looked at the ring and slipped it on your finger. You walked over to him slowly and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug.
“It was one of the most, if not the most important moment in F1 history,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “I want you to always have a piece of that podium with you.”
You pulled away and wiped a tear from your eye with a laugh. With the memory of that day, the ring, and the picture of you and Lando as kids, all the emotions were starting to flood back.
“Fuck you for making me cry,” you laughed, using the sleeve on your sweater to wipe your face. You softly kissed his cheek and squeezed Lando’s hand before they cut the clip.
You’ll never live down that video. It’s mentioned probably a thousand times a day by fans alone shipping the two of you. But eventually, that first ring Lando ever gave you will sit on your finger right next to the wedding band he proposed to you with.
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi
#𝒍𝒊𝒗'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 ౨ৎ#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris drabble#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x female reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula one fanfic#formula one fic#f1 rpf#f1 fluff#f1 smau#f1 ficmas
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SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.
It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.
He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.
So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.
Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.
Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!
Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.
SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.
For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!
Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.
#svsss#scum villain's self saving system#scum villain#bingqiu#this is luo binghe's palace now shen qingqiu just lives there#the only hiccup is that binghe is strangely bad at convincing anyone else to come work at the palace#shen qingqiu encouraged him to assist in finding other help but somehow binghe always comes up empty handed#oh well guess they'll have to continue living there just the two of them with no one else#(this eventually does change but binghe sulks for WEEKS about it)
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Positive Reinforcement
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged
Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.
Words | 6.2k
Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol
Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.
Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.
But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?
Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.
But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.
“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.
The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.
A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.
“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”
You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.
“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”
“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”
This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?
“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.
“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”
Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.
Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?
"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.
"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"
His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.
"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"No. Because I know what you'll choose."
"Then I'm not doing it."
Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.
"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.
"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.
Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”
Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?
“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.
“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”
The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.
Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.
“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”
“But I need to. You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.
“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”
“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.
“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.
“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”
Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”
The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.
“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.
“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”
“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.
“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”
“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.
“I mean it.”
He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.
“Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.
“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.
Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.
“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.
“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.
Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.
You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.
“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.
“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.
“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.
“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”
You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.
After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.
“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”
You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.
“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”
You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.
Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.
“You okay?”
“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.
“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.
Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.
“What?”
“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.
“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”
He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.
“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”
It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.
“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”
“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.
“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.
“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.
You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.
His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.
“Jonathan…”
For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.
“Fuck – “
“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.
Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.
Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.
“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”
Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.
Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”
You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.
Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.
You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.
“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“C… can you – “
“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”
You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.
“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”
Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”
You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.
“There we go… stretched open so well.”
You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.
Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.
"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.
"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."
Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.
"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"
You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.
His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.
"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."
You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.
The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.
“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.
“N… no…” you whine
“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”
“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.
“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”
“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “
“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”
And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.
“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.
“I love you…”
“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.
“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”
#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane x y/n#smut#.moth writes
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Hello! Many people have said this but ill say it too, I LOVE YOUR COMIC SO MUCH ( ´ ▽ ` ).。o♡
I really wanted to ask you about how you do the backgrounds? (Something i struggle with) whats the process? Like from start to finish, also, to do the rise backgrounds do you use reference from the show and generally real photo of ny? Or do you come up with them? And last question- The shadow and light on the background- Like HOW
i know it’s a lot of questions but i’m just so curious qwq and wanna learn to be better, thank you again in case you read this and respond, in case you don’t, i hope you have a nice day and a wonderful life uwu keep up the great work! (≧◡≦) ♡
Backgrounds are a really broad subject and I'm always a little overwhelmed when asked this question. Just like drawing the human body, backgrounds take time, repetition, and practice!
My answer got a bit long, so it's going under a read more :) but if you digest info better in video format I found this on youtube
youtube
It pretty much goes over everything I wanted to say, but in a much better way. I wish I had found it before writing all this out lol
ok, first of all, I'm not a teacher nor was I built to be one of those cool helpful art tutorial people who do a full coloured tutorial filled with illustrations. This is just going to be a messy "how I do backgrounds / environment layouts from start to finish." kinda thing.
... lets start with a sight tangent.
Sketch from Life!!!
If you want to get better at backgrounds I recommend doing some sketching out in the real world!
When I was first getting into doing backgrounds I went to cafes and parks to just sketch the buildings and objects. Sketch rocks, flowers, clumps of grass, garbage cans, bottles, tables, street signs, etc. If you are drawing a tree observe how the trunks twist, how the bark flows, or how the leaves are bunched.
If you can't leave the house the same still applies! Sketch the interiors of your house, the walls, or common objects like chairs and bookshelves. How are objects stacked? items on the floor?
If you aren't comfortable with drawing outside or in public you can take some photos to draw from! They are good for practice and you can use them again as references later. Alternatively you can find pictures online of buildings and objects to sketch as practice.
All spaces have objects in them, it becomes easier to draw those kinds of spaces when you already have spent time observing and sketching them.
ALSO! They don't have to be good sketches! It's just to build out your mental catalogue and strengthen your perception of perspective.
now the actual thing...
BACKGROUNDS
(the pictures used for this are my own. I dug them out of my 2022 folder)
Backgrounds have slightly different rules based on what you are making them for. Videogame Environment Concept Art vs Animation Layouts vs Comic Backgrounds vs Illustration backgrounds.
They all follow the same basics, which I will go over here, but the intention and function of those designs are going to be different. It's all about how you set up the scene and what it's purpose is!
Brainstorming and Thumbnailing
I like to think about a location as though it is a character. An abandoned old house with creaky sagging floorboards is very different from a futuristic space ship with sharp metal floor panels. A gas station has a very different feeling from a library.
I usually start by asking what is this location's story? Why was it built and for what purpose? What kinds of things does this room need to fulfill that purpose? You don’t need solid answers, but its good to be thinking about it while you are working.
Next, sketch some ideas for how this place is going to look. For me, this usually involves drawing the idea from multiple angles and then making lists & small sketches of the objects I think should be filling the space.
Example: The main character of my original work is a Wanderer. They collect a lot of things on their travels, but those items have to be small enough to be easily carried in a backpack. I wanted his room to be in the corner of an attic, walled off by curtains, and filled with trinkets. You can see some of my brainstorming above.
References
I only look for references after I've done some sketching and planning; this is to solidify my idea first so that I don't accidentally copy anyone else's work. I will make a moodboard with pictures of lighting, colours, items, rooms with specific ceiling beams, old chairs, etc. basically whatever I feel fits the vibe.
Honestly, I don't use references as much as I should. For ROTTMNT fanart I look at backgrounds and screenshots from the series to study the style. I also reference actual photos of NYC to get a feel for how Rise condenses the visual information.
In general, it's good to have references of real life objects/locations, because there are so many details like cracks in pavement, stickers on polls, crowning on buildings, fancy fencing, weird chair legs, etc. that you might not think of. It's the imperfect details that can make a location feel more alive.
Perspective
Once you have your chosen sketch we move to.... the infamous perspective boxes. Doing backgrounds is just learning to be comfortable drawing So Many boxes and carving items out of them.
Many better artists than myself have made videos on perspective, vanishing points, and all the technical bits. Videos like THIS ONE and THIS ONE are helpful (this post is great too!!). There are probably a lot of classes to be found on Skillshare or Schoolism. I learned a lot of this in my college art course, so I can't give you a specific video which helped me.
You can get by and be a good artist without learning this stuff. There are quite a few successful artists who have admitted they never bothered to learn perspective (one of these people even made a whole graphic novel series).
I personally avoided properly learning this stuff until I was in my 20s because I thought it would be boring and difficult to do. tbh I really wish I had learned it earlier because it's so much fun to make those silly little boxes imo. It looks scary and complicated but, just like drawing humans, it just takes time, repetition, and practice to develop the knowledge and skills.
Cleanup
You have your boxes and lines! Cool! Now to make a scene out of it. Fill in the details, get everything placed were you want it! Generally, the lines of each item will point back towards the horizon line, but they can have different perspective points.
Generally you would want to clean it up and get your room completely sketched before doing the lineart. I tend to combine the steps (not recommended)
Lineart
I've mentioned how I do this before. Closer objects have thicker lines and more detailed inside. Further objects have thinner lines and less detail. I didn't quite achieve that balance with the image below, but it's close enough.
Colours and Shading will have to be a separate post. In the meantime, I highly recommend the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney. I used to borrow it from my local library and a good chunk of my knowledge was learned from it :)
#Artist's Comic Rambles#asks#art related asks#thank you for the ask!! I'm glad to hear you enjoy the comc :D#i hope this was somewhat helpful...#i get overwhelmed by broad questions very easily haha#if you would me to elaborate on something specific I mentioned feel free to ask#i wrote this all out weeks ago and then forgot about it... I just added a link or two but yeah here it is
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Lucifer, Charlie, and alastor with a Kitsune reader ? :0
Hazbin Hotel x Kitsune! Reader
(Lucifer, Charlie, and Alastor)
Safe for all Audiences!
Warnings: None! Gn! Reader! Reader being a mischievous Little Kitsune, chaos ensues.
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1101
A/n: Hi! thank you for the request! This isn’t terribly long so I hopes that’s ok!
Now, I wasn’t entirely sure if you want this to be Romantic or Platonic so I kept it pretty vague so it could be interpreted as either! I hope that’s ok, if not just send another request and I’ll fix it!!
But either way I hope you enjoy it because i enjoyed writing it!! <3
Proofread once soooo… if there are any errors please ignore them/inform me 😭
Lucifer
When you first arrived in hell, he wasnt the most impressed by you. Not in a mean way or anything, just that he’s lived for a long time and has met a plethora of different types of beings so he’s pretty used to meeting interesting looking people.
But even he has to admit that he was intrigued with you. Your 9 well-groomed and lush tails that quietly followed you with every step and the fur of your fox ears looked soft to the touch. The thing that he seemed to notice most though was the whole eloquent aura you had with every movement you did. Smooth, almost tranquil.
You being a Kitsune did cause you to stir up a bit of… let's say trouble. Your fox nature of course caused you to have a personality that leaned a bit mischievously. You weren’t malicious by any means, you judt had a very… unique taste in humor and how you wish to spend your time. Pranks, stealing random objects that interest you, and going places that you probably should be. This gets you in trouble with many a folk but it’s really not something you can’t handle.
On one of these occasions. you took interest in his custom made duckys. First off, it was something new to you, 2nd, you had never seen someone be this interested in ducks as him, so when you randomly stumbled into the big man of hell’s workspace that’s filled to the brim of them, each with unique features and colorful designs, needless to say you were quite interested.
He was a bit embarrassed at first when you found it but seeing that you genuinely were into them he literally couldnt stop showing them off. Going into almost ecrusiating detail of each one's design choices. (This man is so autistic-coded. I love him so much)
He even made a custom one for you which he gave you when both met again. It was a basic duck design, except it had 9 tail feathers and wore fox ears that clearly mimicked your own, including your fur pattern. He then spent an hour going through each of its features with you. To say you were grateful would be an understatement.
“And if you pull this feather back… Bubbles! Oh-ho, and that's not all! If you take this and-”
Charlie
Definitely more impressed than her father would be. Of course she has been in hell literally all her life and has seen some weird, wacky, hot and cool people but it still doesnt not surprise her when she finds interesting people. When you first met her she was really interested in you, asking a bunch of questions and It was almost scary how enthusuatsic about it she got.
She then started talking about her brand new “Hazbin Hotel.” It was something to reform sinners so that they had a chance at redemption. Charlie seemed so excited to tell you about it that you honestly did have the heart to tell her that you didn’t exactly believe a soul could be redeemed.
Now depending on if you’re hellborn or a sinner, things can go a bit differently. If youre hellborn she’ll offer you a job at the hotel, well to say a job would be a lie, you didn’t really have 1 given task to do, you just helped out when needed. if you’re a sinner, you of course get to stay in a room at the hotel. Whether you actually go along and try to get better is up to you. It was a free place to sleep, so hey? Might as well. Either way though, Charlie always sees the good in people, hellborn or not. So she would obviously want to help you grow as a person even if you are hellborn.
The michevues aspects of your personality tends to cause some problems for the hotel at times. Fights happen, lessons have ended prematurely, and you may have accidentally caused a bar fight between Angel and Sir Pentious. It really was an accident, how was you supposed to know “borrowing” one of Pentious’ shiny tools would cause such a ruckus?
Charlie lectored you about taking others' stuff and made you apologize.
As much as Charlie doesn’t want to admit it (at least before episode 5) she’s a lot like her dad. That also expands to their likeness for your fur. She really can’t take her eyes away from it, it just looks so soft and neat… and soft… eventually you catch her staring at your tails and you just laugh and ask her if she wants to touch them.
“What!? Pfft, noooo, no no no. hehe…he…unless you’re offering…”
Alastor
Considering Alastor died in the 20’s I don’t think he knows what a Kitsune is exactly. Which is probably why he’s the most interesting in you at first glance (you could have also met when he first manifested in hell, which would only further his intrigue)
Either way, your personalities seemed to mesh well for the most part. You both stir up trouble wherever you go (Alastor a bit more… maliciously than you but still)
Whether you’re hellborn or a sinner is irrelevant to how he treats you, though he has tried making a deal with you every once and a while. You always decline but he thinks it’s always worth a shot to ask.
Alastor is aware of your devious behavior and knows the best way to handle it if it ever happens to come his way. He knows that you’re harmless and not a threat which is exactly why he has taken a liking to you. You’re someone who can only really help his cause and nothing bad can really come out of you being around.
Pranks though, are the one thing that Alastor can’t seem to sway you out of doing. He can’t even begin to count the amount of times he’s been at the front end of them. Of course he always sees through them and they’ve never once worked, but boy are you sure determined to one day get him.
This was one such case where you attempted to steal and hide his radio cane while he was asleep, only for him to sneak up shadow form and scare you half to double death
“You’re going to have to try harder than that to pull one past me, my, oh-so dear, exquisitely fluffy friend”
#Hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#lucifer x reader#alastor x reader#Charlie Morningstar x reader#Lucifer Morningstar x reader#x reader#x male reader#character x male reader#fanfic#character x reader#x female reader#fluff#x gn reader#gn reader#hazbin hotel x reader
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I need any girls of you choice with a reader who doesn't understand what the word fetish means and thinks it's another word for hobby or activity. Thus reader well say stuff like "Hey you wanna try out this new fetish with me."
(H:SR/GoV: NIKKE/Genshin Impact) Their S/O not knowing what "fetish" means
Honkai Star Rail: Bronya, Seele, Serval Goddess of Victory NIKKE: Anis Genshin Impact: Ayaka, Lisa, Eula, Xianyun
Quoth the Bae, of Hololive English Promise:
"What is a fetish? If you really think about it , the negative connotation of fetish just doesn't make logical sense don't you agree? I just think if you have your preferences you can have your own preferences and that's completely fine but like asking for someone's fetish just seems like you're prying into something but it shouldn't really feel that way? Also eyes and thighs"
Bronya was in the middle of drinking tea and filling paperwork before hearing the question that made her heart stop for a few seconds.
(S/O) "Bronya, would you care to try this fetish of mine?"
(Bronya) "HRK?!-"
Her hands fumble with the cup, causing some of it to spill over in the ground as she violently rocks in her seat, coughing as her eyes widened.
S/O quickly rushed over to her, one hand on her back and shoving some important documents aside as Bronya attempted to stabilize herself.
(S/O) "Bronya, what's wrong?!"
Bronya's face quickly scrunches up with embarrassment, quickly turning red as her voice cracked.
(Bronya) "What kind of question is that S/O? How can you discuss that so openly?!"
(S/O) "I-Is it that weird to paint out in public?"
...What?
(Bronya) "Paint?-...S/O, when you say fetish, what do you?-"
(S/O) "As in hobby? I overheard some of the people from Wildfire say it before."
Bronya blinks a few times before sighing, both her hands slowly dragging down her face before shaking her head.
(Bronya) "Dear...that's...not what that word means..."
(S/O) "What does it mean then?"
Bronya inhaled, trying her best to keep her composure that was snapped in half like a twig before her eyes shifted to the floor, fingers twiddling.
(Bronya) "I-It means..." ahem "...A certain activity or object you like when you are...intimate..."
(S/O) "Inti-?"
In an instant, S/O understood before their face looked similar to Bronya, the couple standing still completely red.
(S/O) "Oh..."
She thanked the Gods above that there were no guards currently in her room right now, lest they get the very wrong idea.
...Not that she was opposed to trying some things out, but this was her main office! Hardly the time and place!
(Bronya) "...Pray tell, who exactly gave you the definition of this word?"
(S/O) "W-Well, it was-"
Seele regrets saying the word fetish off handedly around S/O.
Forgetting that they came from the prim and proper SIlvermane Guard, they didn't know the meaning of such a vulgar word.
Or more accurately, they were a bunch of softies who couldn't bear to hear something so normal in the Underworld.
Regardless, S/O thought it meant something entirely different because Seele was not ready for the question:
(S/O) "Wanna join me in a fetish I've been wanting to try, Seele?"
(Seele) "Hm? Sure-...WHAT?"
Seele immediately spun around, heart racing as she eyed S/O up and down.
They were in the middle of the streets right now! She sincerely prayed that they weren't about to-
Was that a notebook and pencil they were holding?
(S/O) "Seele? Is something the matter?"
(Seele) "Yeah, somethings the matter! Just what the hell do you think that word means?!"
(S/O) "W-Well, I thought it meant activity, or-"
Well, S/O technically wasn't wrong.
(Seele) "Ugh, l-listen! Just...don't go saying that around in public! And just use the word 'hobby' like a normal person!"
(S/O) "So, what does it mean then?"
(Seele) "I'm NOT explaining that in public just...just wait till we get home, alright?!"
She spun around, mostly to make sure S/O didn't see her blushing.
Serval was in the middle of strumming her guitar idly, trying to make sure that it was tuned correctly when S/O came through the door.
(Serval) "S/O! What's up?"
S/O smiled at Serval, closing the workshop door behind her and taking a seat beside the rockstar.
(S/O) "Hey! I hope you don't mind me asking a favor."
Serval tittered, waving a hand nonchalantly in response before going back to adjusting the tuning again.
(Serval) "Not at all. What can I help with?"
(S/O) "A new fetish I want to try-"
A comically loud and out of tune note echoed throughout the shop as Serval's finger stopped flicking mid-motion, her eyes almost bulging out her skull.
The noise startled S/O, but not nearly as much as they had startled her.
(Serval) "Run that by me again, S/O?"
(S/O) "Y-Y'know. A, um...fetish. I want to try this particular song with you-"
(Serval) "Okay, okay! Hold up a second!"
Putting down her guitar and brushing the bangs that had fallen onto her face, she grabbed both their shoulders while she felt her face heat up.
(Serval) "S/O, are you and I thinking of the same word right now?"
(S/O) "I'm just talking about wanting to try an instrument out?"
(Serval) "And...there's no innuendo here, right?"
(S/O) "Does...fetish not think what I think it means?"
Serval gave an exacerbated sigh, though she couldn't help the smile that was forming as well.
(Serval) "Hah, not in the slightest."
S/O was such an idiot.
And by god, Serval was glad S/O was her idiot.
Anis spits out the soda she was drinking, not bothering to clean up as she spun around to S/O.
(Anis) "WOAH! W-When did you get so bold?!"
S/O was stunned by Anis's reaction, but she wasn't able to scan in any increase in heartrate.
Did they just get augmented to become extremely brave, or?-
(S/O) "I didn't think you'd get so worked up over model building, Anis."
...Okay, no they were just stupid.
Anis slumped back down on the couch, facepalming before cleaning up the soda that was covering the table.
(Anis) "S/O, fetish isn't some ol-timey word for hobby!...Well, for decent folk, anyway."
(S/O) "So what's it-"
(Anis) "Agh! L-Look, don't ask me!"
Her core quickly heating up, her fingers fidgeted as she did her best to look everywhere except at S/O.
(Anis) "Go ask Rapi or Ne-N-NO! DON'T ASK NEON! JUST...Just ask the Commander, or something!"
(S/O) "O-Okay? I didn't offend you or something, did I?"
(Anis) sigh "No, but...look it's something you don't ask in the middle of the lobby, okay? It means something pretty...dirty!"
(S/O) "Since when did you care about that kind of thing?"
(Anis) "WHEN MY BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND IS ASKING ME TO TRY A FETISH ON THEM, OKAY?!"
(Neon) "WOAH! You're doing what?!"
(Commander) "...Is this a bad time to come in?"
(Rapi) "Perhaps we should take a break and leave the outpost for a while, sir-"
(Anis) "N-NO! YOU'RE GETTING THE WRONG IDEA!"
Ayaka gasped at S/O's question, a hand going over her chest before stammering out a response.
(Ayaka) "Huh?! S-S/O! W-We can't discuss something so...degenerate out in the open!"
(S/O) "W-Wine tasting?"
Now Ayaka let out a small squeak. She knows she's heard something to do with wine tasting in the bedroom.
(Ayaka) "S/O, please!"
(S/O) "Hang on a second, Ayaka! I don't think you're understanding what I mean!"
For once, Ayaka thinks she knows something that S/O didn't outside of her duties.
That being the true meaning of a word that she found much too dirty to use.
(Ayaka) "S/O, do you know what that word is?"
(S/O) "Hobbies, right?"
(Ayaka) "I'm...afraid not, love."
Looking around to make sure no one was around, she leaned over to S/O's ear before whispering the meaning.
Which doing so caused her to become just as red as S/O.
Lisa honestly doesn't know if she's disappointed or amused by the fact S/O asked her to try a fetish without knowing what it really means.
Maybe a little bit of both, but it didn't fail to get her to laugh anyway, Lisa covering her mouth by balling up a gloved hand.
And their confusion, accompanied by that cute tilt of their head and slight pout, got her to laugh even more.
(Lisa) "Sorry, sorry! Not laughing at you, cutie."
(S/O) "So, what are you laughing about then?"
(Lisa) "Well...that particular choice of phrasing, really. You do know what that word means, right?"
(S/O) "What, fetish?"
(Lisa) "Mhm."
S/O crossed their arms before sighing.
(S/O) "I saw it in a book, though the sentence it was used in was pretty vague. I know it means something to do with an activity, from context clues anyway."
(Lisa) "That book must have been very flowery in its language if you could only pick that up from the context."
Before making a mental note to check out the book S/O was reading, Lisa puts one hand under her chin as her elbow rests on the table.
(Lisa) "Allow me to tell you the definition proper, S/O...Rather, I'll show you it."
Later that evening, S/O did know what the word meant, one sore body later.
Eula goes bright red at the question, immediately raising an eyebrow at S/O.
(Eula) "Is this some kind of joke, S/O?!"
Seeing S/O only laugh in reaction confirmed her suspicions. They were teasing her!
(Eula) "Hmph! Trying to get a rise out of an elegant woman such as I will only earn you my vengeance, S/O!"
(S/O) "My apologies, miss Eula! I did not know that a mere painting could get you so flustered!"
So, it was that kind of painting? Eula had no idea S/O was so...perverted!
(Eula) "Any right person would be, if asked! If you desire a nude model, then-"
Immediately, she noticed how red they got.
(S/O) "W-Woah! Hang on, I meant a regular painting! Like of a smile, or something like that!"
Eula paused for a moment, then furrowing her brows again.
(Eula) "Did you not just ask me to try a fetish with you?"
(S/O) "As in, hobby? Isn't that just a fancy word for it?"
...Oh.
(Eula) "N-Not in any circle I know."
Well, Eula certainly didn't want to be the one to explain it.
Xianyun is relatively unaffected by S/O's question as she adjusts her glasses.
She's rather thankful of S/O being so straightforward about the request, less trying to decipher or beat around the bush for her.
(Xianyun) "One is not opposed, S/O. What fetish would you like to attempt?"
(S/O) "Great! See, I really want to try swimming as fast as I can versus one of your inventions!"
(Xianyun) "...A competition against One's contraptions is enough to stimulate you?"
(S/O) "I imagine it would! If it's made by you, then it's going to give me a challenge!"
Xianyun is honestly touched, that something made by her would get S/O that excited.
Who is she to deny her lover such a request?"
(Xianyun) "One will oblige! Let us head towards the beaches and find a worthy space to try it out."
...
Later as she watched her contraption race against S/O to a nearby rock, gliding against the waters, she heard footsteps behind her.
(Lumine) "Cloud Retainer?"
(Xianyun) "Ah, you return! One is pleased to see you doing well. Though you come at a rather...intimate moment, I believe."
Paimon blinked into existence next to her companion, waving hello excitedly.
(Paimon) "Hiya!...What's S/O doing?"
(Xianyun) "They are indulging themselves in a fetish of theirs."
(Lumine) "HUH?"
(Paimon) "W-WOAH! Did Paimon hear that right?!"
(Xianyun) "One is certainly not to judge. In fact, One can appreciate their openness about the subject matter."
Lumine and Paimon did a double take at what S/O was doing, then back to Xianyun.
...Either she didn't know what it meant, or-
S/O returned to shore a moment later, still clothed in a wetsuit that Xianyun had created and waved hello to the Traveler and Paimon.
(S/O) "Oh, hey you two!"
(Paimon) "Uh...hi?"
(Lumine) "S/O, Xianyun just told us you were...involved in a fetish?"
(S/O) "Yeah! I wanted to see if she could make a machine that was faster than me at swimming!"
(Xianyun) "Are mortals not accustomed to speaking so openly about it to their lovers?"
(Paimon) "P-Paimon guesses? But...do you know what it means?"
(Xianyun) "Naturally. A sexual desire of the partner-"
(S/O) "WHAT?!"
(Xianyun) "...Oh. Well, that certainly explains why you were so calm about it-"
(Lumine) "...I should go-"
#honkai star rail x reader#goddess of victory: nikke x reader#genshin impact x reader#bronya honkai star rail x reader#seele hsr x reader#serval landau x reader#anis nikke x reader#ayaka kamisato x reader#lisa minci x reader#eula lawrence x reader#xianyun x reader#bronya honkai star rail#seele honkai star rail#serval landau#anis nikke#ayaka kamisato#lisa minci#eula lawrence#xianyun genshin
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Roy Kent*Bus Buddy
Pairing: Roy x reader
Word count: 2511
Warnings: pure fluff, Jamie flirting with reader, protective Roy, swearing
Masterlist here
at the same time that Ted got hired Rebecca had also decided she needed an assistant to enact her perfect revenge, so the boys often saw you walking around Richmond or at press interviews. Any time you entered the locker room wolf whistles from Jamie rang across the room followed by a loud ‘shut it’ from Roy. Usually, you’d object to Jamies actions, but the routine had become so common you found it funny especially when Roy dogged him into Keeley one time, and you saw him drag Jamie by the ear.
You weren’t sure why the tough and silent Roy Kent was so protective of you, but you were grateful to know walking into a locker room filled with men that he had your back. the longer you were around the team though you realised none of the boys would even hurt a fly.
still locker rooms or crowded hotel lobbies could get rowdy, and Roy almost acted as security, weaving you through the crowd and telling everyone to fuck off. any thanks you gave him were met with grunts, nods, or two-word answers.
sometimes you had to talk to Roy though, but you never complained. whenever you had forms for him to sign or events you wanted him to attend, sadly only on a work basis, he gladly complied without fuss. feeling his hand brush, yours as he took the pen from your hand or getting to secretly glance at his face as he filled out the forms was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
you’d convinced yourself your crush was harmless. after all he was Roy Kent, an absolutely loaded footballer with an exterior tougher than diamond. its not like you flirted with him or stared at him. well not on purpose at least.
this weekend saw Richmond visiting another stadium a six-hour drive away for their next match. usually, you travelled with Rebecca but due to some other things she had to get done this weekend, aka a spa trip with Keeley you were secretly so jealous about, she had decided to send you as a representative. however, this also meant you got to arrive at Richmond Friday afternoon with a packed bag and a bunch of rowdy footballers.
“Well look who our newest bus buddy is,” Ted said, putting his hands on his hips as you approached the gaggle of men. “Hope you don’t mind being down graded to ride with us bunch of savages,” he joked as he ticked your name off his clipboard. you really did appreciate Teds soccer mom vibes.
You laughed as you dragged your suitcase up to stand by Ted at the bus, “Please how bad can it be? it’s just a bus,”
“Yeah, but with these twats,” Roy’s voice made Ted jump, but you just turned and smiled, ready to say hi, but Roy just walked past you. He picked up his suitcase, tossing it under the bus before turning back and picking yours up and placing yours in with far more care than he had with his own. When you said thanks, Roy just nodded before heading onto the bus, assumably to secure the most isolated spot he could.
Ted let out a low whistle as Roy walked off, “He’s a charmer alright,” he said, his eyes scurrying around before leaning down to whisper to you, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s sweet on you,” You laughed but before you could even try to deny it Ted was pointing at your face, “and if I’m not blind you my friend are blushing,”
“Shut up Ted,” was all you managed to say before Nate walked over and thankfully Ted knew better than to keep going in front of him.
while you were talking to Nate and Ted the bus all the players had arrived and assembled on the bus. you were the last to climb on the bus since even though you knew it couldn’t be that bad six hours on a bus was still a dire experience. “Oi need a seat love?” Jamie hollered from the back of the bus, already tossing his bag to his feet.
“There’s a seat by me,” Dani pipped up from a few rows in front of Jamie.
you laughed, trying to think who would be the least awkward seat mate. however, as you went to move forward, figuring Dani would be less out right flirty than Jamie you were stopped by Roy standing up from his seat and stepping into the aisle.
when you looked up at him, expecting him to say something, he just looked down at the window seat he had just given up. you smiled as you moved to sit down, “Thanks,” you said squeezing past him, “Thanks boys but I prefer the front of the bus,” you said before settling down for the ride.
Roy dropped into the aisle seat and while you knew he was trying to keep in his seat the bus seats were only so big, so your thighs were bumping into each other, “Thanks for saving me,” you whispered to him.
Roy chuckled under his breath, “Really think I’d let you get tortured back there like that?” he whispered back making his voice sound even sexier if possible. the bus set off only a few minutes later and now you were trapped in a bus with 25 rowdy men who instantly started talking amongst themselves and playing bus games. “Bet you wish you’d never got on this bus,” Roy said in a low voice but with all the noise at least you didn’t have to whisper.
“Nah I don’t mind, honest,” you said, settling into your seat, “Sitting in a silent plane with Rebecca can get awkward,”
“Sorry I’ve not got any champagne for ya,” Roy joked and for the rest of the ride you actually talked the whole way which is the longest you’ve ever spoke to him for. you were almost sad when the bus pulled up outside the hotel.
without a word Roy had grabbed your suitcase and his, walking into the hotel still wrapped up in a debate about which ice cream flavour was superior. “Checking in together?” The receptionist asked making you blush, and Roy clear his throat.
“Eh no, separate,” he said, glancing down at you but you wish he hadn’t since you knew your cheeks were flaming hot as you gave the woman your information. however, after getting checked in Roy still carried your cases, taking them up to your room with you in silence. He sat the bag down in front of your room for you as you unlocked the door, “I’m just down the hall. 203. so eh if anyone gives you bother or these twats are too loud tonight give me a knock,”
“Will do captain,” you said, trying your best to stay composed as you got into your room, shutting the door behind you so you could freak out.
the next day was too hectic to even think about flirting with Roy or even catching a glimpse of him off the field. however, Richmond had managed to secure a tie which for them right now was a big win. however, what was not a big win was the fact that you had to get back in the coach that day since the team had a bunch of press to do tomorrow at Richmond.
between the game, the press interviews, everyone showering and getting into clean clothes, and checking out you weren’t even set to leave till 10pm despite the game kicking off at 1:30pm. you were already yawning as you came down the lift to the reception.
most of the boys were also absolutely shattered. running for 90 minutes straight at full speed was tiring enough without also having to pack and do press. you had got to sit during the game, but you also had the job of Rebecca all day so now you really understood why she needed that spa weekend. “Bus said it’ll be pulling up in five minutes,” you yawned as you sat your bag down, “Head count time,” you said.
you felt like a primary teacher, but you didn’t care as you walked around, counting each player as you put your hand on their head. they were all too tired to complain and even Issac let you touch his hair. “twenty three,” you said, counting Dani before stopping, “Wow your hair is soft,” you gasped before continuing as Dani beamed from his seat, “Twenty four,” you said, reaching up to pat Roy’s head but you were too tired to see the way he smiled at you when you did, “Twenty five,” you finished, putting your hand on your own head making Roy chuckle quietly. “We didn’t lose anyone, great job team. now shift it, I wanna sleep,”
“You heard her twats, get moving,” Roy said, his loud voice shocking everyone including the hotel staff. at least it got the boys moving though. Roy cleared his throat as he glanced down at you, “Need a seat buddy again?” he asked as you filed out behind all the boys.
you smiled up at him, “Yeah that’d be nice. Its your turn for the window seat,”
“I don’t mind, you keep it,” he said as you finally got to the bus. the boys were all tossing their cases in and filing into the bus with very few mumblings between them. you were silently thankful everyone was exhausted, “Just don’t fall asleep standing,” Roy’s joke snapped you back to reality as he loaded in your cases.
“Fine but I make no promises about the bus,” you said as you walked to get on, Roy offering for you to go first. a sweet gesture to you and silently Roy was grateful for the chance to check out your ass. “This seat, okay?” you said, plopping down into the first available seat. Roy didn’t even reply as he sat down next to you.
Ted was the last to get on and while you usually loved his speeches today you just did not care. “Now all yall try get some shut eye. Six hours of sleep would do you all the world of good right now,”
“Yes coach,” rang out in a sleepy chorus as everyone settled in to nap on the bus for the night.
as you looked around you saw Jamie in the seat across from you with a blanket already pulled over him and Dani a seat behind you with an eye mask on, “I am clearly not prepared,” you joked quietly to Roy.
Roy looked over, seeing his fellow teammates who were used to these late-night busses, “You can borrow my jacket if you get cold,” Roy said quietly making you inwardly melt, “Not much of a blanket but it’s warm,”
“I’ll think about it,” you yawned, making Roy smile as he saw how you stretched away your sleep. or well tried to. the ride set off and you could already hear soft snores across the bus. any of the boys who couldn’t sleep had headphones in and you had never been more grateful.
you sat in silence, looking out the window as the head lights of other cars went past and let yourself sink further into your seat. you barely noticed when Roy shrugged his jacket off or realise how close to him you were getting but you could feel your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.
Roy however had noticed the soft snores coming from you when your eyes had finally closed, unable to fight sleep off anymore. he was thankful everyone was asleep or not paying attention as he got to look down at you sleeping on his shoulder with a soft smile. after a few minutes, sure you were asleep, he gently pulled his jacket over you like a blanket.
he wasn’t sure when he had fell for you or why, but he’d known for weeks now that he liked you. hell, more than liked. there was just something about you and right now you looked downright adorable as you nuzzled further into him. Roy slipped his arm behind your back, allowing you to properly sleep on him and his hand to rest on your waist.
usually, Roy was far too tense or pent up in rides home to sleep on the bus, especially with a team he just knew were desperate to draw something on his face, but Roy was surprised when he opened his eyes and sunlight blinded him.
the bus was pulling up to Richmond at an ungodly 4 am when Roy realised, he had fallen asleep, his head resting on top of yours. without thinking, still in a sleepy state, Roy pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he moved to sit up. however, when he saw you stir awake, he kicked himself internally, “Are we here?” you yawned, pulling away from him and Roy already missed the feeling of you curled up to him.
“Looks like it,” Roy said as you looked down to realise it had been Roy’s jacket covering you, “You uh looked cold,” Roy said, clearing his throat and thankful he had a beard to cover the way his cheeks grew hot.
“Thanks,” you said, a sleepy smile playing your lips as the rest of the team started to wake. “Did you manage to sleep?”
“A bit yeah,” Roy said, and it was as you shuffle forward Roy realised his mistake when you looked down at his arm, “Sorry bout that,” he mumbled, quickly pulling his arm out from where it had been wrapped around your waist.
“It’s alright I don’t mind,” you said, a smile toying your lips as you stretched to try wake up.
without anything else said, really by anyone, you all filtered off the bus and Roy went to get both your suitcases. Roy cleared his throat as he went to pass yours to you, a nervous habit you’d only just really noticed, “Do you need a lift up the road? my cars just over there,”
“If you don’t mind that’d be great,” you said, so relieved you weren’t going to have to sleep in Rebeccas office, “Don’t hate me if I fall asleep in the car though,”
“Couldn’t hate you if I tried,” Roy said as he took the suitcase back and began to walk to his car. you blushed as you followed behind him, climbing into the passenger side as Roy loaded the bags in, “You all set?” Roy asked as he hopped into the driver’s seat.
when Roy glanced over, he couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed you were already asleep in the car. Roy reached over, buckling you in before getting ready to hit the road. he’d dropped you off a few times from work so he knew the way already, but Roy couldn’t stop himself stealing so many glances at the sight of you. there was no avoiding his feelings now. Roy Kent was in love.
#ted lasso#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso x reader#ted lasson smut#ted lasso season one#roy kent#roy kent imagine#roy kent x reader#roy kent x you#roy kent x y/n#roy kent fic#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent fluff#roy kent fanfic
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Forgiveness - Deuce Spade x reader
When Deuce accidentally breaks an item that you treasured, he's worries that he's broken your trust as well. But there's nothing that can't be fixed with a hug and an apology.
Hurt/Comfort for the soul!
You stare at the broken shards scattered on the floor, your breath caught in your throat. The silence in the room is thick, the weight of what just happened sinking in like a stone in your chest.
Deuce stands across from you, frozen in place, his hands half-raised as if he’s unsure of what to do. His wide eyes are locked on the remnants of the object you’ve cherished since you first arrived in Twisted Wonderland. He stammers, trying to form words that will make this better, but nothing comes out.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know it was so fragile.”
You know he didn’t mean to. You know it wasn’t on purpose. But that doesn’t stop the sting from cutting deeper than you expected.
The thing he’d broken—a keepsake from your world, one of the few precious items you’d been able to bring with you—was irreplaceable. Now it was just a collection of shattered pieces, and you couldn’t stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You quickly turn away, not wanting him to see.
“I just— I’ll clean it up. I’ll fix this somehow.” Deuce’s voice breaks with guilt, but you can’t face him right now.
Without saying a word, you step over the mess and grab your jacket. You need air, space, something to calm the storm inside your chest. “I’m going for a walk,” you manage, your voice clipped, and before Deuce can respond, you’re out the door.
The cool evening breeze hits your face as you walk aimlessly through the grounds. You keep telling yourself it was an accident, that Deuce didn’t mean to break the one thing you held dear from your old life. And deep down, you already know you’ll forgive him—you always do. But right now, you just need a moment to yourself, a chance to clear your head.
By the time you circle back to the dorm, the night has grown darker, and the tension in your chest has begun to ease. You take a deep breath before stepping inside, telling yourself that you’ll talk to Deuce, that everything will be fine. You already know he’s beating himself up about it. He doesn’t need you adding to his guilt.
When you walk into the common room, though, the sight before you stops you in your tracks.
Deuce is curled up on the couch, asleep. He looks uncomfortable, his long legs hanging awkwardly off the end, and his jacket is bunched up beneath him like a makeshift pillow. His face is peaceful, but there’s a slight frown pulling at his brow, even in sleep.
You exhale softly, the last of your anger slipping away completely. He must’ve assumed you were still mad—mad enough to not want to share a bed with him tonight. So, he’d opted for the couch, giving you space even though it was clear he wasn’t comfortable.
Guilt washes over you. Deuce may be a little impulsive, a little clumsy, but his heart is always in the right place. And you know, without a doubt, that he didn’t mean to hurt you by breaking your keepsake. He just... messed up. Like he sometimes does.
Silently, you walk over to the couch and crouch down beside him. His face is relaxed now, his breathing slow and steady, and the sight tugs at your heartstrings. You reach out and gently brush a lock of his hair away from his forehead.
“I forgive you,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you. “I know you didn’t mean it.”
Standing up, you carefully ease yourself onto the couch beside him, slipping under the blanket he’d half-thrown over himself. It’s cramped, and there’s barely enough room for both of you, but you manage to snuggle close, resting your head against his chest.
Almost instinctively, Deuce shifts in his sleep, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You feel his body relax even more, and you can’t help but smile softly at the way he always sleeps better when you’re near.
The tension in your own body melts away, and before you know it, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you into sleep.
When Deuce wakes up, the first thing he notices is the warmth. His arm is wrapped around something solid and familiar, and it takes him a few seconds to realize it’s you, nestled against his chest, still fast asleep. His eyes widen in surprise, his heart skipping a beat as he processes the fact that you’re here with him, not angry, not distant—here.
He carefully shifts to get a better look at your face, his movements slow and cautious as if he’s afraid that waking you might shatter this moment. You’re breathing softly, your face peaceful, and he can’t help but feel a surge of relief wash over him.
You’ve forgiven him.
Deuce’s chest tightens with emotion as he remembers the events from earlier—the way your expression had fallen when the keepsake had shattered, the hurt in your eyes as you walked out the door. He’d been certain he’d ruined everything, that you wouldn’t be able to forgive him this time. The fact that you’re here now, curled up with him on the couch, is almost too much for him to believe.
He swallows hard, his throat tight with gratitude. “You... came back,” he whispers, even though he knows you’re still asleep. His hand tightens slightly around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as he presses his cheek against your hair and he takes a shuddering breath.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice barely audible in the quiet room. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
You stir slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyelids fluttering open. Deuce freezes, holding his breath as you blink up at him, still half-asleep but clearly aware of where you are.
“Deuce?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. “Why are you...?”
He clears his throat, looking down at you with a sheepish expression. “I thought... I thought you’d want space after... you know, what happened. So, I slept out here. But then... I guess you...” He trails off, unsure of how to finish.
You blink again, taking in the situation before offering him a small, tired smile. “I forgave you,” you say softly, resting your head back against his chest. “I know it was an accident.”
Deuce stares down at you, his heart swelling with relief and gratitude. “I’ll fix it,” he promises again, his voice firm. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll make it right.”
You shake your head, your hand coming up to rest gently against his chest. “It’s okay. You don’t have to fix it. Just... don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? I don’t want you to feel guilty about something you didn’t mean to do.”
He’s quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in. Then, slowly, he nods, his arms tightening around you in a protective embrace. “I’ll do better,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you, ever.”
You smile softly, nuzzling into his warmth. “You’re not going to. You’re doing just fine.”
Deuce presses a kiss to the top of your head, his heart full of love and determination. He may not always get things right, and he might mess up from time to time, but he’s going to keep trying—for you.
As long as you’re by his side, he knows he can keep working to be better, to make up for his mistakes and be the person you deserve.
And as you both drift back to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms, Deuce can’t help but feel incredibly grateful that, no matter what happens, you’re always there to forgive him.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#deuce spade x reader#deuce x reader#deuce spade#deuce#twst deuce x reader#twst deuce#deuce x you#deuce spade x you#hurt/comfort#comfort
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Distract Me (Vessel x Fem! Reader) FLUFF
Hello hello! I finally managed to finish this request, even with a name change at that, thank you so much for your patience @theriseofshin ! We have some sweet and fluffy Vessel this chapter. Our reader is a little scared of storms and Vessel can't help but do everything in his power to try and comfort her. Lots of soft touches, awkward flirting, and Ves just being big and cuddly and sweet because I'm so soft for that man. I hope you enjoy! If you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!
WARNINGS: None
My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!
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The afternoon sun was warm on your face, the faint scent of lavender drifting through the open window as you stood at your sink finishing some dishes. The TV played softly in the living room, the pretty blonde meteorologist tracing along the edge of a massive storm cell that was rolling your way. You sighed, drying your hands as you leaned against the counter; it looked like you were in for a long night. A gentle knock on your door drew your attention away from the screen. Your bare feet padded across the dark hardwood floor, slinging your dish towel over your shoulder. You stood on your toes to peer outside, the frosted, textured glass above your door muddling your visitors' form. You can't help but smile as you recognize Vessel’s tall, broad frame. “Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?” You greet him sweetly as you open the door; your heart begins to pound in your chest as you feel him study you.
“IV picked a bunch of fresh fruit today. I wanted to stop by and bring you some.” He holds out the large container that was practically overflowing with various berries. You accept it with a soft ‘thank you,’ your fingers brushing over his during the exchange.
“Would you like to come in?”
“I would love to.” He responds a little too quickly; you hold back a laugh as you watch him cringe slightly at his actions. “I mean, if it wouldn't be too much trouble.” He adds on with a bashful chuckle.
“No trouble at all; I was just about to make some tea.” You nod for him to follow you inside. He ducks through your doorway, shoving his hands in his pockets as he curiously looks around your house. You couldn't help but watch him from the kitchen, smiling softly as you saw him delicately pick up whatever knick-knack had caught his attention, being as careful as possible with the fragile object before setting it back perfectly in place. Ever since the two of you met, Vessel had always held a special sense of caution around you, knowing how intimidating his massive stature could come off; everything he did was settled with a particular degree of care. You're snapped from your thoughts by your kettle beginning to sing.
You sat side by side on your couch, the breeze through the open windows sending a chill through your apartment. The trees danced in the wind, welcoming in the oncoming storm with open arms as dark clouds began to roll in from the distance. Your mug of tea warmed your hands, and a bowl of freshly washed fruit was set between you as you asked Vessel how things were back at the camp. “You should come back with me; I'm sure everyone would love to see you.” He offers with a soft smile.
“I would–” you were cut off by the sound of thunder rumbling, “love… to…” You couldn't help but let your gaze trail to the window, finally noticing that the storm was moving in much quicker than you or the weather channel could have predicted. You swallow thickly before turning your attention back to Vessel, you didn't have a lot of time left. “Um, but it'll have to be some other time.”
“Love, what's wrong?” He sits up from his reclined position, moving closer to you subconsciously when he realizes your nervous state.
“It’s stupid, Ves, promise.” You chuckle, your hands squeezing into fists at another growl of thunder. A warm hand comes to rest on your cheek, your eyes meeting the slits of his mask. His thumb trails across your skin, “storms just make me a little nervous, that’s all.”
You see him start to speak, but he quickly pauses, contemplating whether or not to say whatever has crossed his mind. “If you like,” he begins slowly, “I could always stay until it passes.” He offers, and you feel your pulse begin to race.
“I'd really like that, Ves.” You respond softly. You exchange a coy smile.
“I’ll keep you nice and safe, love, don't worry.” He teases with a soft chuckle, making your cheeks grow warm.
“Trust me, I didn't have any doubts in the first place.” He stands holding out his hand for you to take. He helped you shut all your windows, allowing you to collect your emergency candles and flashlights in case the power went out. You can't help but smile as you watch him organize what you had handed him neatly on your coffee table. “You’re sure you don't mind staying? This could go on all night; I wouldn't want to keep you.”
He hums, slowly striding over to you. “Let me think, go back to camp to spend the night alone in my cabin or to be curled up here with you?” He pretends to ponder over his options for a moment. “I think the latter sounds a little better, don't you?” He glances down at you with a playful smirk.
“You're sweet.” You respond shyly. Over the time you had known Vessel, the two of you had grown rather close; you were someone who he found himself slowly deconstructing the walls he had built up around himself for, and he was someone who you felt effortlessly connected to from the moment you met him. Although neither of you would admit it, through your growing friendship, something else began to grow out of it as well. After breaking through his cold, rigid exterior, you discovered that Vessel was quite sweet. It was in the little things you noticed: how he would always make sure to hold doors open for you, offering you his arm through rockier parts of trails on hikes, how he would absentmindedly comb his fingers through your hair as you lay together, reading outside. Everything about being with him just felt so right.
The two of you quietly prepared dinner together, Vessel humming along with the radio as he finished up the last few dishes. A smile spreads across his face as he catches your gaze lingering on him. You quickly dart your eyes back to the pan on the stove, your cheeks growing warm at the realization you had been caught. You jump slightly as you feel a pair of large, warm hands settle on your waist. “Smells good,” he remarks simply.
“Let's just hope it tastes good, too.” You giggle.
By the time you sat down to eat, the rain was pelting against the windows. As you look outside, you twirl your fork nervously between your fingers, the trees blowing violently in the wind. A bright flash of lightning exploded across the sky; you jumped at the sudden boom of thunder that shook the room. Vessel took your hand, his thumb soothingly running over your knuckles. “If it makes you feel any better, I'm not the biggest fan of storms myself.” You shoot him a playful, skeptical look. “I'm serious!” He exclaims with a chuckle.
“Sorry,” you respond with a giggle of your own, “I'm just surprised. I feel pretty silly about the fact I'm scared of thunderstorms-”
“You shouldn't be; it's cute.” He pauses as the compliment tumbles from his lips. You can't stop the bashful smile that immediately spreads across your features. Vessel tries to speak, but no words manage to find their way out. “I'm sorry.” He finally manages after a moment.
“Don't be.” You glance up at him, his shoulders visibly relaxing as your eyes land on the slits of his mask. You gently squeeze his hand, “I'm really happy you're here, Ves.” You admit softly. He studies you momentarily, noticing how you seemed to lean into him for comfort when the storm outside became too loud for you to ignore.
He states your name gently, tugging you closer by your hand as he straightens up from his reclined position on the couch. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips hovered just a little too close to yours. “It's alright, I've got you, love.” He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest as he shoots you a sharp smile. Your cheeks burned, and you were sure your heart was pounding loud enough he could hear it. You relaxed into his embrace, allowing your body to mold against his. Vessel’s thumb languidly rubbed over your waist, making electricity danced across your skin where your shirt had lifted up. “Did I ever tell you about the time III managed to get both of his boots stuck in the mud, so he had to walk back to camp barefoot?” You shoot him a confused look, laughter slowly bubbling up in your chest as you thought about how mad III must have been.
“No, I don't think you have.” Vessel holds you close as he does his best to distract you from the weather outside. Telling you whatever story he could think of that would make you laugh. IV dropping an entire pot of pasta on the floor, a bear making off with a basket of II’s laundry, the countless numbers of times Ves has smacked his head in a doorframe or a hanging light, anything to keep a smile on your face. “You need to be careful; you're going to end up hurting yourself one of these days.” You giggle.
“That won't be such a bad thing if I have a pretty little thing like you to nurse me back to health.” You playfully swat at his shoulder, making him chuckle. You hide your face against him, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “I’m sorry, I can't help myself. You're absolutely adorable when you get all flustered.”
“Well, you definitely don't have any trouble accomplishing that, do you?” You glance back up at him through your lashes, a nervous yet coy smile reaching your lips.
“What can I say?” He starts, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want to make sure you feel special.” Vessel swallows thickly, his hand brushing over your cheek as his fingers slide into your hair. You let out a small startled sound as you’re suddenly plunged into darkness. Panic immediately begins to bubble up in your throat as it becomes apparent just how bad the storm had gotten; the wind rattled the glass panels of your windows, the rain pelting against your roof made the room entirely too loud yet somehow impossibly quiet as the background humming of all your appliances had been cut. “I'm right here, lovey; I got you.” You're snapped from your thoughts by Vessel’s deep voice rumbling close to your ear.
“I'm sorry,” you apologize with a soft chuckle, your voice trembling slightly as you speak, “I feel silly–”
“There's no need to, sweetheart.” He reassures you, carefully cradling you against his chest. “It's a bad storm; there's nothing wrong with getting a little anxious.” He presses a finger below your chin, angling you to look up at him. “I guess I just need to do a better job of distracting you, hm?” His knuckle trails along your jaw, your hand fists into the soft material of his sweatshirt at another loud crack of thunder.
“Ves?” you state his name softly, you feel his lips ghost over yours.
“Yes, love?” He responds in a similar tone.
“Distract me.” He tips you back into the plush couch cushions, allowing a growl to slip past his lips. In an instant, Vessel ensnared every one of your senses; his large hands were warm as they gripped desperately at your waist, fingers skimming bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. His weight blanketed you, firm muscles pressing into the plushness of your body. The taste of sweet, herbal tea mixed with the slight bitterness of the paint that adorned his lips. You could feel the edge of his mask dig into your skin, your mind numb to the sensation as you found yourself unable to focus on anything besides the feeling of Vessel’s lips on yours. A flash of lightning lit up the room, glowing orange through your eyelids; a loud boom of thunder followed it. Vessel feels your grip on him tighten at the sound; he breaks away from you for just a moment to whisper sweet words of reassurance against your lips. “You're alright, sweetheart; I'm right here; I got you.” He keeps your focus on him, your lips buzzing as the two of you finally break apart for longer than a few seconds. Vessel chuckles, running a thumb over your tender bottom lip. “Sorry if I was too rough, I've been waiting a long time to be able to do that.”
“Same here.” You giggle bashfully. “And you weren't, I really like… I really like the way it feels when you kiss me.” You admit breathlessly. He continues to hold you close for the rest of the night, pulling your lips to his as a distraction whenever the weather picked up again. After a while, you struggled to suppress your yawns, the warmth of Vessel’s arms making your whole body melt into his touch.
“Let’s get you to bed, lovey.” He whispers, slipping an arm behind your knees to lift you from the couch effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, sleepily pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you for staying with me, Ves.” He can't help but smile, turning to press a kiss to your forehead. He lays you in bed, carefully situating you under the covers. Your hand slips into his; he brushes some hair out of your face as he studies you with a gaze of pure admiration. “Do you have to go?” You ask quietly as if speaking too loud would somehow break your perfect evening.
“Not if you don't want me to.” You slide back across the mattress, gently tugging him into the bed beside you. He hesitates at first, thrown off by eagerness to have him beside you. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your much smaller form on top of him. You tense slightly as a boom of thunder erupts from outside, the storm finally on its way out. You glance up at Vessel only to be met with a soft smile as he gently caresses your cheek. Without a word, he pulled your lips back to his, and suddenly, the storm outside didn’t seem quite as scary anymore.
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Tag List is in the comments below!
#vessel x reader#vessel sleep token#vessel#sleep token band#sleep token x reader#sleep token#fluff#x reader#🍎
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‘ Blurry, Tired Eyes ’
A Drunk! Megumi Fushiguro x Male! Reader | SMUT |
A/N ; Yooooo, ngl, I’m running on zero right now yet I’m still doing this shit so sorry in advance. I don’t know how I honestly found the strength in me. It’s currently two in the morning and my ass is still up. Wide awake. So, I decided I was going to make this and finish it anyway. While staying up the entire night. Ain’t that fun? Anyway, here’s some random guilty pleasure prompt and peep the contents below.
Contents ; Masturbation, inexperienced reader, groping, drunk sex, praise, and daddy issues.
Dynamic ; Best Friends To Lovers
Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Male!Reader | Dom!Megumi
P.O.V ; Second
Age range ; 18+ 21+
To be honest, you weren’t expecting this many people to show up after announcing the birthday party for Fushiguro. But, here you were, faced with an impending crowd all shoved up against one another, grinding and doing every inexplicable thing as they danced. I guess it’s what you get for entrusting Satoru with the planning.
This was the worst. You hated these types of celebrations and you knew Megumi hated them too. It didn’t help that you happened to be claustrophobic and everybody was sweating. Your face scrunched up, grossed out by the smell of liquor and onions. This was pure puke bait.
“And why the fuck does everybody have to be a whore?” You complained out loud before realizing you did so and watched a bunch of heads turn to look in your direction. That was not supposed to be said out-loud.
You took that as your cue to use your technique to disappear into the shadows and escape out of the situation by traveling to another place in the building. Although, it was extremely straining and gave you a headache once you made it into one of the hallways. Time to look for the birthday boy you’ve been trying to find all day.
Gazing up at the pictures that were hanging about, you looked over a couple that had your peers, hovering over to the stoic frowning Fushiguro who bore his eyes directly into the camera in the photo.
A small smile crossed your face, laughing a little at the memory of Itadori harassing the ravenette until he snapped just before it. Those two were always bickering back and forth, never giving each other a break, not once. It was entertaining to watch them chase each other around. Sometimes, joining in on it when it got out of hand. But, it was usually to hold Megumi back from killing the dumb guy.
You weren’t going to lie to yourself, maybe you also helped because you felt left out. The twinges of jealousy when Yuuji would get too close to his face or he’d get in a position with him that looked risqué. Either way, it formed a knot in your throat and you couldn’t help including yourself.
But, that couldn’t mean much. You figured it was because you were overprotective that this feeling frequently came to mind. Megumi had been your exclusive best friend for a couple of years by now. That had to be normal.
A part of you knew that there was more to it than what you were acknowledging. Though, you didn’t want to elaborate on it. There was no point in figuring something like that out if you hadn’t even crossed the flirting stage. And you didn’t know if he was interested in men.
The noise of an object thudding on the ground in the nearby room knocked you out of your mind ramble, causing you to jump in surprise before narrowing your (E/C) eyes at the door. You could sense it wasn’t a curse so that was good. That didn’t mean you were any less curious about who it was.
As you walked toward it, you could hear sounds from the other side getting clearer and clearer. And they didn’t sound innocent. It was groaning and huffing, desperate too. But, not just from anyone, no. This was the familiar voice of the boy you were thinking about a second ago.
Like a hypocrite, your heart felt like it was about to break. ‘He couldn’t be hooking up with somebody, right?’ you worriedly asked in thought, a wave of emotions washing over you before another loud moan muffled through the wooden door.
There was no way you were going to stop yourself from figuring it out after that. Apologizing to Megumi under your breath, you reached for the door knob and opened it to something you never expected to see instead.
The raven-haired male was completely naked from head to toe, leaning over a trash can with his left hand placed on the wall while the other was rubbing up and down his shaft.
His hair was drenched with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead, and his chest glistened in the lamp light. There were veins popping from his arms, neck, and most of all, his dick. His thumb focusing on his tip every couple of pumps as he mumbled out questions, “Fuck, why do I have to get so hard? Why won’t it go away?”
‘Jesus, fucking, Christ,’ was the only thing you could think. You were watching your best friend touch himself, bare. And it wasn’t taking you much before you were struggling right alongside him. The front of your pants tightening and a bulge poking through the fabric.
He noticed your presence once he adjusted to fucking his hand and took a minute to process, his dark blue eyes slowly widening as he stared back at you. You didn’t say anything, choked up by anxiety. Leaving the two of you to stand in silence, waiting for either one of you to break it.
Megumi covered himself with the sweater resting on the desk near him, eventually speaking up while trying to shake off the shock of being caught, “How long have you been standing there?” A red hue spread across both yours and his cheeks as you struggled to make eye contact. How come he had the ability to be so direct even during something like this? It was a quality that you liked, regardless.
You answered him in a quiet voice, “It’s been a couple of minutes…” Lowering your head out of embarrassment but not looking away entirely. You had just enough access to see what he was doing. And in that peripheral vision, you saw his attention flicker downwards.
Quickly, you hid your hard-on with your hands. Although, Megumi knew exactly what that gesture meant so it wasn’t successful. You could tell from the way his eyebrows switched from furrowed to raised like he was surprised. Then how more silence followed.
Not a single chance in hell were you going to look directly at him again, not when he was staring you down like this. You were hoping, praying to god that he wouldn’t point fingers despite not believing in that which meant you knew you were screwed. Was your friendship finally going to end here? What did this mean for the rest of the friends that are connected to you both? Panic was settling in the more he let you stand there.
“Can you close the door? I want to talk to you,” he asked bluntly after what felt like forever and honestly, that made your fear worse. “Please don’t say we can’t be friends because of this,” you interjected before he said anything else and closed the door like he suggested.
Fushiguro laughed through his nose and grumbled as if he was offended that you thought that, “Why would I want to end our friendship because you caught me jerking off, [F/N]?” Hearing him say it so casual made you get the comfortability to look at him again, seeing that he was picking up his clothes and acting like nothing happened.
He let you watch him get dressed, his back facing you the entire time, but you got the whole show. How he snapped his boxers around his waist, the indents in his back as well as the scars, and how his hair sprung back up into the spiky hairstyle he loved to style it in after he pulled his shirt over his head. You didn’t mean to stare, but it was really hard not to when you secretly admitted the feelings you have to yourself. And you just saw him masturbating. You saw his…
Not trying to finish that sentence in your head, you moved on by walking over to an outlet in what appeared to be an old classroom and kneeled down next to it to plug in the charger you brought. Thank god, you have an excuse now.
Awkwardly snapping it inside of the lightning port of your phone, you left it resting on a windowsill and turned to face Megumi. He was back in the outfit you had given him for his birthday. A cerulean sleeveless top with black Nike sweatpants. It was simple, yet he made it look like gold.
“Are you going to answer or are you going to keep checking me out?” He tilted his head, those wolf-shaped eyes of his burrowing into yours and making you unable to pry them away.
Your breath caught in your throat and all at once, thoughts became jumbled and you couldn’t figure out a thing to respond with. He was acting so careless just a second ago but now, he was flat out telling you that he knew what you were doing. What was going on?
Megumi sighed and rolled his eyes, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you liked what you saw. Your dick’s been rock solid this whole time.” He nodded his head toward your lower half, causing you to choke on your spit, and sputter, “What? No! No! I’m just drunk…” You struggled to breathe and had to hit your chest to help yourself. Hopefully, this excuse will hold up.
But, it didn’t. The ravenette began to walk towards you, his abyssal blue orbs never leaving yours once while you froze there. Until he was right in front of your face and glancing at your lips. “That’s convenient. I’m a little tipsy myself…” he said softly, looking back up through his long eyelashes.
God, he was so beautiful. You were beginning to fall for his tricks already. But, you didn’t care about how fast you went for it, you cared about the fact he was showing interest.
The pretty boy pushed forward, his hands placing themselves on either side of your head as his nose connected with yours. Your breathing escalated. This was happening. It was happening. He was going to kiss you.
Your eyelids fluttered shut while both of your lips locked with one another. His lips softer than a cloud and the pressure enough to relieve the tension in you. You had been waiting for this for so long. The tugging between his mouth and yours. When his teeth pressed into your bottom lip or how his lashes brushed against your skin. He tasted like Sake and somewhat bitterly sweet like dark caramel. It was worth every ounce of waiting. Every bit.
His hair brushed with yours and the palm of his hand reached up to cup your cheek, moving it to the back of your neck over time. At some point, he needed to pull away for air and as he did, the two of you were back to locking eyes.
The way Megumi was staring at you gave you chills. It was like pure lust clouded over his expression. He was giving you that ‘fuck me’ look so obviously that it made your knees slightly buckle. To follow up with that, he went straight to the point by sliding down one of his hands to your bulge and groping it. His voice smooth like whiskey when adding, “Can I take these off?”
You melted like butter in his hands, instinctively bucking your hips into him and groaning with a nod. It was crazy how bad you wanted this. The damp spot of pre-cum on your boxers getting bigger and bigger the evidence of that.
Fushiguro unbuttoned and unzipped your pants easily, hooking his fingers in the loops to pull them down to your knees. He kissed your cheek and the side of your jaw while continuing down with them until he was at your neck, searching for a secret sweet spot.
Moans cascaded out of you bit by bit during his exploration, getting sharper around an area he kept brushing past. When he figured out where it was, he suckled on the skin and abused it enough to where a huge hickey rested there. He got your boxers off as well and the moment his fingers touched you, your hand grabbed his wrist and tightened.
“Fuck! Wait! I haven’t done this with anybody else before! This is a lot to take in,” you exclaimed, panting and looking down at the sight of your naked bottom half right next to his covered hard one. Sort of wishing that he didn’t put his clothes back on.
Megumi didn’t seem to be phased by that. Instead, he figured out what you were looking at and got to stripping them off too. Once he was in nothing, he gave a soft smile and reassured, “It’s okay, [F/N]. You can trust me with this. I just… I really need to do this with you.” It worked and made you relax your muscles, getting closer to him unconsciously.
Then he leaned forward and pressed his tip against yours, wrapping his big, rough hand around them before spitting on it. Pumping it up and down, matching the pace he was going for himself earlier, and using the same hand now that you mentioned it. Your head rested back into the wall as you grunted out what you were thinking impulsively, “Fuck, daddy.!” You weren’t trying to say it, you just did. Outing a kink to him that you swore no one would hear a single peep about. That was what you get for attempting something slightly not-safe-for-work with a guy you’ve had freaky dreams about.
You scanned his face for any small detail of him feeling disgusted, weirded out, all of the above; you found none of that. Rather, he was seemingly in awe from how his mouth parted. It shifted into him giving a small smirk, letting out the most sexually frustrated voice you’ve heard yet in a whisper, “Keep calling me that… And don’t you ever fucking stop.”
Shuddering, you were letting more and more noises go that you didn’t know you could make and he was savoring every single one. Moaning along with you, fucking his cock against yours, and smearing his pre-cum over the both of you like it was lube.
The sorcerer got impatient. He needed something better than this. He knew what he wanted, the idea felt so right to him, he couldn’t suppress the urge to. You were right there, perfectly laid out.
Fushiguro guided himself down, using one of his hands to grab your thigh and move you to the desk. You placed both of your palms behind you to support yourself, just as ready as he was, maybe even more. With a rush of dopamine, you got the courage to dirty talk back, “Please… I want you… Daddy.” The nickname was hesitated on, but that was because this was all so new to you. How could he be so comfortable with this?
As low as it was, Megumi was pleased with the request and bit his lip at the sight of you spreading your legs below him. He never would’ve thought he would get you like this and fuck, he wasn’t complaining. Hell, he felt lucky.
He positioned himself against you, but teased by rubbing in circles. Making sure that you were wet enough for him to slide in with no issue. That proved helpful as his dick inched inside soon after, easing all of it until he could feel himself so deep that it was close to your stomach. You were gripping onto his arms, one on his bicep, the other on his forearm. Squeezing harder than you ever had.
It hurt so fucking bad. Like he was ripping you apart and forcing your body to succumb to him. Tears brimmed your eyes and he noticed it, stopping and keeping himself there so you could adjust. ‘Fuck’, he mentally cursed to himself, ‘It’s his first… I’m his first.’ A part of him got excited repeating that, proud of it. “Shit, sorry… I’m sorry, baby… Tell me when you’re okay…” Megumi rambled while placing a tiny kiss on your lips to make up for the pain. Never fucking a guy had its drawbacks.
Eventually, you got used to the fullness and it eased away into the pleasure you’ve heard so many things about. You gave him the go by nodding and tightened your grip to get yourself ready. A shocked gasp jumped out when he did the first thrust. It felt amazing. Too amazing.
You begged for more, “Please, faster. I want it. I want you to destroy me…” Losing yourself to the feeling of his huge dick fucking in and out of you, your cries got louder and desperate. Especially when his hand went to wrapping around your shaft to stimulate you even further. The pumping, the ramming, and his growls from his own enjoyment with your body all crashed down onto you.
Your edge was nearing, rushing at you with full speed, and coming closer by the minute as Megumi buried himself to where you could feel his tip poking out of your stomach. You cried out in pleasure, “Gumi! Fuck! You’re too deep…!” Arching your back and rolling your eyes, your dick started to twitch.
He chuckled and went faster with his hand, pumping the cum out of you basically and letting it explode onto your chest. It covered the majority of your lower half and dripped down as he continued to ram you into the desk. More sputtering out while he was fucking the high out of you. Your eyes were lazily closing, your mind becoming numb and dumb from the overstimulation.
Moans were blending together as your body threw a fit, digging your nails into any skin you could. He held you tightly there so you wouldn’t escape, doing you so hard now that it was sounding like everything was going to collapse underneath you.
Fushiguro praised you throughout this as an apology, “God, you feel so good… I can feel you holding me there inside… Like you want me to fucking breed you, [Y/N]..!”
That sent another orgasm over you and caused your cum to spill everywhere again, your legs sticky with it at this point. But, he kept going. He was so close. Right there.
The raven-haired man clawed at the edges of the desk when he was reaching cloud nine, thrusting in hard and passionate. He made sure to fuck his seed inside of you until it was like you were being bred by him. You knew you couldn’t conceive, but it sure as hell would be the case if you could. His muscles stopped tensing the moment he was done and he let out a satisfied sigh that was rare to hear, “If I knew sex with you was going to be that good, I would’ve made you my boyfriend sooner.”
With a peck on the forehead, he pulled out of you and let you catch your breath. ‘Boyfriend? He called me his boyfriend?’ that was all that could repeat in your mind as he walked over to where your clothes were scattered to clean. When everything was put away and he wiped up most of what he could off of the both of you, Megumi decided to have you come home with him. Walking out of the classroom together, he excitedly chimed, “Thanks for the birthday present, [F/N]!”
#megumi fushiguro#jjk smut#jjk x male reader#megumi x male reader#megumi fushiguro x male reader#male reader#smut prompts#dom megumi#sub male reader#megumi gets the title daddy?!?!?
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From the author : hello everyone! A few days later, but I'm done with this part. It took me a while... And I wrote twice as much as I originally planned. But since the part itself was thought out in terms of what was going to happen, I did not dare to divide it into two parts. This work was written based on my yandere Seb post. Have a nice read.
English is not my native language, I apologize for the mistakes.
Warnings : g/n reader, description of violence, description of injury, hint of harassment (but that's in the past), mention of strangulation, possessive behavior, paranoia, kidnapping.
Number of words : 6 593
There you are
So much has happened in the last months of your life that you're almost sure you're in some kind of B-movie of whatever genre.
Being accused of a violent crime that you didn't commit, disappointing your family and loved ones, being sent to prison, and then strange people coming promising release for a "small favor." All you have to do is get a certain crystal for them, avoiding unknown threats and return back with an undamaged object.
It sounds pretty easy and the reward is pretty tempting, right?
Even though you knew that your family was disappointed in you and rejected you right in the courtroom, you still wanted to return to them. To prove to them that this crime was committed not by you, but by someone else. Although it did not occur to you that there is no evidence of your innocence anymore, and your family has been inspired with blatant lies about you. So much so that it is impossible to convince them, despite all the warm relations in the past.
But you are young. Naive and just enrolled in a prestigious college, how do you know how bad and terrible things can be in the world? Only from those romanticized series.
But now... This is your reality. Your life, which you absolutely did not want. You would be glad to forget this beginning horror, but you can't. Every time you opened your eyes and saw the wall of your cell, reality crashed down on you like cold water in the middle of a dream.
So... Yes, you had good reasons to accept a strange offer from the same strange people.
All in order to get back to the family. Or at least to your usual, normal life.
You exhaled softly and shifted a little on the hard, spring-loaded mattress before closing your eyes and taking a little nap before going on a mission with the other prisoners.
* * *
You are very sorry that you agreed to this.
Your thoughts were spinning wildly in your head as you struggled to breathe, cowering in the closet and holding the doors tightly so that the creature could not open them and pull you out.
You squeezed your eyes shut when the ugly and distorted face of the fish continued to scream at you when it sees you through the small cracks in the door.
Time seemed to freeze under this terrible scream in your ears, and your hands began to hurt when you used all your strength to hold the doors in place. But after a while, that scream died down, as did the attack on the closet where you hid on pure instincts.
You didn't immediately understand when it was finally over, and even if you did, you would have sat there for some time, trembling all over and gasping for air. Tears of fear threatened to spill from your eyes, but you held them back, biting your lip and suppressing a quiet sob.
You weren't exactly sure which room you were in, which door you went through, hell, even how much time had passed when you got out of that damn submarine. About the threats, you thought that these were ordinary security systems in the face of the same turrets... Although they were controlled by some kind of reasonable AI.
But damn it, these people weren't talking about real monsters!
At first, some people are statues pretending to be walls and sneaking after a person to eat them later. Then there are a bunch of strange creatures making loud noises, breaking the lamps in the room, which are rushing like crazy. And one of them is actually trying to get you out of the locker. Or a creature with tentacles that hides in the closet itself, waiting for an inattentive prisoner.
Although the worst monsters you met were: a creature behind a fake door, a giant fish with a bunch of eyes and a creature trying to get you out of the closet.
If it weren't for the "kind" prisoners you met along the way and not trying to kill you, steal your collected research and food, or do something much worse, then you wouldn't know anything about these monsters at all.
However, you still had to give away some of the precious food, even if it was granola bars. And the collected research, although you didn't fully understand why they were needed. But the information was more valuable than the food and the data that can be found before you die unknowingly.
The statue people were Wall Drawers and would sneak up on the man from behind to then eat him. All I had to do was turn around and listen often.
And the bunch of creatures that fly like mad across the room were Angler, Blitz. There were also three, but you did not encounter them. The creature that's trying to get you out of the locker is Pandemonium. Good People is that monster from the fake door. Eyefestation is that giant fish with a bunch of eyes.
One of the prisoners who was in a small group kindly told you about them and how to deal with them. It was quite useful, even if you mourned a little for the loss of food and some research, even if they were useless.
However, it was a pity about the latter after you learned from the words of other prisoners that you were not here for the first time (which is surprising for you) and that somewhere here there is a small store where you can buy a first-aid kit with batteries and other things, and the payment is just for these studies.
You didn't even have to sacrifice anything, because there was a newcomer among those prisoners and they told him about a certain intelligent being who runs this store and calls himself Sebastian. Of course, you didn't really understand anything, but you took note of this useful information.
Although you are still worried about the further words of the prisoners about how scary and rude this seller is. The saboteur, as they also call him. There was also a rumor that he was the one who organized the pogrom on this huge base under water.
Although you thought more that this was just a typical way of bullying the elders over the younger ones, exaggerating or inventing what is not there. Although... Considering the whole situation, perhaps the prisoners were not exaggerating.
After that, quite a lot of events happened, so you forgot about a certain store and a mysterious seller in time.
Especially when you have just experienced the 5th meeting with Pandemonium.
After that, you still wonder how you miraculously survived. Especially when Pandemonium was quite persistent, chasing you through every room.
You carefully opened the closet door, finally getting out of it when you started to feel a little claustrophobic. Your legs could barely hold you up, so you just sat on the floor, catching your breath and trying to somehow regain your strength.
You couldn't help but look around for a threat every couple of minutes and hold your breath, listening. It was pretty quiet, which should have been relaxing somehow, but it's completely wrong. It feels like there will be an even stronger storm after such a strong lull.
You are not exactly sure that there will be something much scarier than Pandemonium and a fish with a bunch of eyes.
I have no other way out. You exhaled softly, took off your helmet for a short time to quickly eat a small granola bar that you found next to the gnawed body of one of the prisoners when you avoided meeting with Wall Drawers the day before. You refused to admit the idea that you might end up in this prisoner's place if you weren't vigilant enough.
A skeleton in a uniform and diving equipment lying in the middle of the room.
You barely swallowed a piece of a hard and dry bar, ignoring the nausea caused by hunger and the horror of memories, and struggled to stand on trembling legs. You held on to the locker, feeling a little dizzy, and after standing there for a while, you started walking again. Even if it's not as fast as at the beginning, but with the maximum vigilance that you have, despite the lack of at least some sleep over these days (and maybe weeks... Your sense of time is blunted, and the clock is almost not there), hunger and a generally exhausted state.
You looked through every desk and staff lockers in search of data and useful items, by type of flashlight and flash. Maybe you will be lucky and there will be something to eat, except for granola bars, which are not so healthy. Or a bottle of water that didn't have time to spoil.
However, you have been very unlucky lately. Either because other prisoners who took everything managed to walk here before you, or there is simply nothing here... Or here it is in a slightly different case. Who knows.
In any case, it upset you, especially when your condition worsened every day, that at any moment you simply would not be able to walk. Or worse, but you preferred not to think about it.
You were almost absently examining tables, cabinets and shelves, passing through each door, trying to save energy for running.
It must have all played a role that you almost missed another couple of steps behind you. If it weren't for your instincts flaring up, you wouldn't have noticed Wall Drawers literally a meter away from you. You instantly turned around, looking at the creature with barely concealed alarm and hurriedly walking backwards, groping for the door to the next room.
However, the day could have been even worse, because you got on a fake door, too focused on Wall Drawers to hear breathing outside the door.
In the next second, a scream was heard and you fell to the floor, clutching your injured hand, while Good People mistakenly grabbed Wall Drawers instead of you. Although before that, I managed to cripple your leading hand. Not much, but being in the current situation, it causes great inconvenience.
You didn't fully realize what happened in just a second, but Wall Drawers must have managed to grab your hand and take a bite before you jumped back and Good People managed to accidentally grab them instead of you.
What a stroke of luck.
You couldn't hold back a quiet sob and whimper, clutching the wound on your arm. You saw a dark red, almost viscous liquid flowing out between your fingers, staining your uniform and dripping onto the floor. Pursing your lips and holding your breath, you carefully removed your palm and restrained yourself from crying out how terrible the wound was.
You hastily returned the gaze, trying not to look at the wound a second time and rummaged in your bag, trying to find at least something that will help you to bandage the wound for the first time.
There was nothing useful, because you couldn't find a first-aid kit the whole way, so you had to tear off the rest of the sleeve and bandage the wound. It turned out to be a very clumsy bandage made with one hand. In theory, you should have made another small bandage over your head so that the arm would remain motionless and not get in the way too much, but there just wasn't enough fabric for that.
You barely ignored the terrible pain in your arm, which seemed to pierce to the very bones (which is not entirely far from the truth), and barely got up from the floor, trying to come up with a plan of action.
You definitely really need a first aid kit. And to have a needle and thread in it, because the wound looked like something that needed to be sewn up. And even if you didn't go to the doctor and didn't touch on such medical topics in any way, but something had to be done. Even if you end up relying on the movie. What can't be done, but there is no other choice.
Hissing softly through your teeth, you continued walking, holding your hand and trying to be more attentive when you were injured and bleeding. You weren't exactly sure, but you had an idea that the smell of blood might attract someone from these many creatures. You prayed very much that if you were noticed, you would have had a first-aid kit by that time. I don't care about a safe place, the main thing is to take care of the wound, through which some infection can get.
After about a few doors behind, you suddenly heard a voice from which you yourself stopped for no reason. You hurriedly looked around, pressing your back against the nearest closet, thinking that either this was a hallucination, or a group of prisoners whom you needed to avoid more than anything, because not all of them are kind. Especially when you are injured and clearly in a pretty deplorable state.
There was a short silence in which you listened intently, then the voice sounded again. You may not have been able to make out the words completely, but judging by the tone of the threat, there was no threat.
Involuntarily, I flashed memories of those prisoners who talked among themselves about the store here, where you could buy from simple batteries for a flashlight to a first-aid kit. This involuntarily filled your heart with a little hope, although your instincts literally screamed over and over again that it was better not to go anywhere, because danger was possible.
But you didn't pay much attention to it, especially when everything hurt and the blood continued to flow. You needed this first-aid kit, if you have to go through danger for it, then it was worth it. At least you won't die so soon because of this.
Despite the fact that due to blood loss, you barely understood the words, but walked towards the voice, which led you to a small vent. Frowning weakly, you sat on your knees and tried to figure out how to crawl through it carefully so as to disturb your hand as little as possible. After sitting there for a few seconds, you were startled when the lamps blinked several times, which foreshadowed the appearance of one of the fish creatures flying across the room. This caused your sluggish body to move and you hurriedly crawled into the ventilation. The voice trailed off, which scared you a little, but you're sure you heard it here.
You were breathing heavily when you crawled through the vent and stopped briefly when you got out of it.
— Welcome! Welcome, newcomer, — the voice sounded literally above you. It was a little unexpected for you, which made you start and raise your head.
It was... The creature is humanoid. More precisely, you somehow don't want to name another being, especially when he spoke. Despite what he was about... More than 10 meters? It is quite difficult to determine when his long sea snake tail curled up a little in this almost small room, which made it seem smaller than it was.
His skin (or is it already scales?) She was light blue, had short black hair that was tousled. The facial features were sharp, with fins instead of ears... A fish mouth? Although, considering that he has an anglerfish esque, a third arm and a third eye, this is a much less strange sight, especially in a place like this.
The man was wearing a dark brown jacket, a white shirt with a frill. Your gaze involuntarily caught on the holster with a shotgun on his belt and a small bag. You also noticed that there was some kind of strange bulky device on his back, but don't know what it is. Your gaze turns away again and gets stuck on the medicine cabinet in one of the many bags on his long tail.
Ah.
This must be the same store with a certain saboteur.
You flinched when the other intentionally coughed loudly into your hand, and then you were embarrassed by his words:
— Have you enjoyed the view enough?
— Uh, excuse me... Hello, — you squirm a little, involuntarily squeezing your injured hand harder, remembering politeness.
Although what kind of simple politeness is worth talking about in a place like this? But you're a good person.
— Well... Ahem, welcome to my store. You may have already heard about me, but don't believe these stupid rumors, my friend. You can call me Sebastian. You can buy items here for the research that you managed to collect before coming here. They are useless to you, but they will be much more useful to me, — the salesman says matter—of-factly and even a little sarcastically, putting two hands together, clearly not caring that you were literally dying of blood loss in front of his eyes.
Strangely, you don't feel anything from this realization. Indifference is somehow better than those who take advantage of such a position in the terrible sense of the word. You shuddered a little from the memories and gathering your thoughts in a bunch, you asked:
— How much do you have a first aid kit for?..
— 200 studies, — the other immediately replied, somehow cunningly twisting the edges of his mouth.
You look down, groping for your bag and open it to get the right amount. In your opinion, the price was not very high, but within reasonable limits. It's better than buying a first aid kit from other prisoners for their heavenly prices. After transferring the required amount of research into Sebastian's clawed hand, you waited a little while for him to nod, count, and silently take the first-aid kit from his bag.
You carefully opened it, checking the contents and relax a little, seeing what you needed. After closing the first-aid kit and putting away her bag, you nod to the other, muttering softly "thank you" and go back to the ventilation.
— If it makes you feel better, there is a small office space nearby where you can close. The lock is intact there, so you'll know right away.
You were startled by the suddenness and involuntarily looked back at the seller, whose voice sounded... Strange. It was also mocking and indifferent, but something was wrong that made your instincts alert. But the fish-man looked quite normal, mockingly narrowing his inhuman blue eyes and grinning from the corners of his mouth.
— How much?..
— What? — you can see how he obviously feigned incomprehension tilted his head to the side, blinking slowly.
— For the information.
— Ah. Consider it free, — he almost growled the last word through razor—sharp teeth, frowning.
You look at him doubtfully for a few seconds and reopened the bag, taking out 100 studies and putting them on the nearest iron box and this time hurriedly leaving through the ventilation, muttering "thank you" out of habit. There was only stunned silence in response, but you didn't care. You didn't want to get into trouble, especially with a newfound acquaintance for a "free" thing.
Sebastian wasn't lying, and literally across the hall was the very office space that you recognized due to the whole lock, thanks to which you could close the door.
It was... It's such a relief that you could finally just close the door behind you and relax a little. As long as you don't make any noise, no one will try to break in.
Maybe after you took care of the wound, you could get some sleep.
Under the office desk in the corner and in the shade, so that in case of anything you would not be noticed.
* * *
You barely opened your eyes and did not immediately realize where you were, but then the memories reached you, from which you exhaled and squeezed your eyes shut, throwing your head back.
You successfully sewed up the wound, even though it was terribly hard and you lost consciousness several times due to the hellish pain and blood loss. But fortunately you coped in the end and hardly remembered how you bandaged your arm.
Although...
When you open your eyes and turn your head to the side, you see how your helmet was lying next to you on the floor. Even with a small crack in the glass, which definitely wasn't there. But you must have missed it when you were attacked by Good People.
You can't remember when you managed to take off your helmet before you fell asleep under the table. But you were too tired, so you didn't think much about it. Moreover, things were more important now.
With such a wound, you definitely couldn't keep moving. At least until the pain is less and signs of healing are visible. So you will definitely have to stay in this area for a few days.
Which leads to another task.
You frown weakly, carefully sitting down and pulling your bag towards you, rummaging through numerous secret pockets, pulling out all the food and water supplies to calculate how much is left and how much more is needed.
It is quite poor, without taking into account the fact that there used to be more and you gave this part to the prisoners for information about this place.
A few dry and hard granola bars, a liter bottle of water, and by some miracle a canned food with sprats was found. Which you hate. And you also don't have a can opener.
There will be no problem with water. There was a half-filled cooler in this office room, which is enough for these days and you won't die of dehydration, but here's the food... Considering your current condition, you definitely needed something better than muesli and canned sprats. Moreover, this will be enough for two days at most.
So you definitely need to go out and explore this part of the territory in search of food.
You frown a little at this thought, upset, because the risk of bumping into someone is high. And especially when there was a store nearby, the risk of meeting prisoners is higher than usual.
— Damn, what a disgusting day, — you involuntarily swear under your breath, putting things back into the hidden pockets of the bag and clumsily get up.
Which you immediately regretted, because you almost fell back to the floor, barely managing to grab an office chair.
Okay, you definitely need to just sit for one day to start at least thinking about going somewhere.
You swore under your breath, sitting down in an office chair with irritation and leaning back, staring at the ceiling.
You sat there for an unknown amount of time before falling asleep, which was not very good for your back. Although when you woke up, you felt better and could finally stand. After quickly eating a granola bar and drinking water, you put your helmet back on and carefully opened the door, listening.
It was quiet, which disturbed you, but you couldn't do anything about it and quietly left the room, closing the door behind you. Looking around and listening all the time, you came across a door, behind which there was something like a dining room and a kitchen.
This cheered you up a little and you began to inspect the room, collecting research on the machine. When you reached the kitchen and examined the drawers, you found a slightly bent can opener and another tin can. But thank God not with sprats, but with corn. Pretty good, if a little unhealthy.
In addition, you found already moldy bread and already rotten fruits on the table, the smell of which made your stomach shrink a little and you hurriedly moved away from them.
In general, you were able to find some food in the face of canned corn and some miraculously preserved sausage in the refrigerator. You considered this a victory.
You hummed softly to yourself when you put the food in your bag, deciding to eat the sausage first, which spoiled faster, and also so as not to get soaked in its smell and not run into trouble with people with excellent nose. You definitely don't intend to fight giant prisoners over sausage in your current state.
* * *
You are not sure exactly how many hours have passed since you stopped in the office room. It was a bit of a blur for you, because all you had time to do was explore the nearest rooms, come to eat and fall asleep. And you also looked into the store again to buy a Flash Beacon from Sebastian, a couple of batteries and again a first-aid kit. You spent all your accumulated research, but you didn't regret it.
After all, you still managed to get an infection.
And instead of staying and getting cured like a normal person, you decided that this was the perfect time to continue on your way. And you had your reasons. First, here, next to Sebastian's store, there is a high risk of running into a crazy prisoner or even a group. Which is very bad in your position. Secondly, there is a risk that you will not be able to cure the infection and eventually you will die. Third, you had some kind of unpleasant feeling in the back of your head that you were being watched and something in you said that you should leave as soon as possible.
It was a little sad, because the store clerk was a bit of an interesting conversationalist. When he's not trying to humiliate you at every opportunity, of course. And when this dialogue lasted at least a minute during your next two visits. One because of the strange sound of a gunshot, and the other because of shopping. But for you, it was a little breath of fresh air, after a long conversation with criminals in prison, as well as small skirmishes with them here. And monsters...
You involuntarily recalled your conversation with Sebastian when you bought a first-aid kit and other items. And it ended up being pretty... An unpleasant note.
— Ah, do you intend to go further? With such a wound? — He asked casually, bowing his head and propping it up with one of his hands, looking at you.
You shrugged a little, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, almost studying. Mentally, you reminded yourself that you were wearing a helmet, so he could not know about your appearance, which was well preserved under all the disgusting conditions. To your confusion.
— Yes... Uh, I feel much better. So I won't dare linger here, — you lied a little, grateful in secret that your face was not visible, and your voice was indifferent enough to betray the truth.
You looked up, catching the man's skeptical look before he rolled his eyes.
— Then don't you dare let Wall Drawers bite your hand off again, — he almost growled softly, strangely squeezing his hands tighter.
— What? — you blinked, thinking you misheard.
— I say, come into my store again, you idiot, — he said with a grin and louder, narrowing his eyes maliciously, — or are you deaf?
You pressed your lips together in silence, looking away from Sebastian, saying nothing.
It was at this moment that you heard a noise in the ventilation that made you freeze. The next second, a prisoner who was clearly passing by got out of the ventilation.
You pressed yourself imperceptibly against the wall, silently praying that you would not be noticed immediately and that you would have time to leave before you ran into trouble. And before anyone thought you were a coward, you had strong justifications for behaving that way, especially with other people.
You barely noticed the faint curiosity in Sebastian's gaze before he spoke in his usual sarcastic voice:
— Welcome, friend.
You heard a contemptuous snort from the prisoner before he came over to get the batteries, casually throwing the research. Before you had time to realize that you need to leave unnoticed through the ventilation, you suddenly recognized this person.
Oh shit, the universe really "loves" you, right?
— Who do I see? Is that really our rat, huh?
You flinched when you stopped near the vent.
— Are you completely deaf? You weren't taught to greet your friends, were you? — There was a little anger in the gruff voice.
You curled your lips, but remained silent, turning your head towards the other person. The tall man looked down at you with disgusting amusement.
— What do you want, Chris? — You answered with difficulty in an indifferent voice.
— Why such coldness, huh? Did you really forget your cellmate, huh? — the criminal giggled, smiling broadly and showing his crooked teeth.
— We weren't cellmates, — you corrected coldly.
The other person's face twisted at your tone, clearly not expecting this.
— What, the eggs of the industry during your stay here? Decided to show your teeth, rat?! Have you forgotten who's in charge here? — The prisoner growled through his teeth, clearly restraining himself from running into you with his fists.
You frowned a little, but it was not visible because of the helmet.
How did he even recognize you with the helmet and uniform? Maybe he saw you putting on a helmet at the beginning of the journey? Or how was it given to you along with the uniform?
Although it doesn't really have to do with when to leave. You didn't really want to piss Sebastian off because of that arrogant jerk, even if it wasn't your fault.
It is strange that now you did not feel fear of this prisoner, who spoiled your life, as you were put in prison. So much so that the prison authorities had to put you and him in different cells after his attempt to strangle you in the dining room.
Although it is strange that you two were resettled and you received a solitary cell, because other prisoners, despite all the conflicts, were not resettled... But somehow you didn't think much about it.
You probably didn't think he was particularly scary right now after encountering monsters here. Or you were just tired under the influence of a found painkiller and an increasing infection, despite the fact that the wound was intact and there were no signs of rotting.
Whatever it was, you knew for sure that you had to leave.
— If you want to start a fight, it's not right in the store, — you said indifferently.
Well, you didn't want to inconvenience Sebastian yet, even if he didn't care about what was going on in front of him. But you knew Chris, and you knew what he could do when he was angry. If he accidentally destroyed something here, you didn't know how the seller would react.
But with the condition that during the last meeting you heard a shot here...
It's better not to think about it.
— Ha! Do you still dare to tell me what to do? Have you already made friends with this monster? — the prisoner replied with a laugh, putting his hand on the handle of the Flash Beacon, — you haven't changed at all, you always take care of others. That's why they put you in jail, you stupid rat.
The unpleasant feeling in the back of your head has intensified, which is why your hair has lifted a little there. The developed sense of self-preservation during his stay in prison confirmed that something very unpleasant was about to happen.
And let nothing happen to you, thanks to the dark glass on the helmet that protects you from bright light, but here is Sebastian with his unusual anatomy...
And even if you don't know him, but as a good person, you didn't want him to be hurt and others too. Just like that, even if you didn't feel anything special about him.
You just opened your mouth to stop him, but you didn't have time because at the same second he pulled out a Flash Beacon and pulled the trigger.
In those few seconds, several things happened and a loud sound sounded.
When the lights went out, you saw that the Flash Beacon was lying on the floor, literally broken into splinters, and the prisoner was coughing, clutching at his throat.
— Don't do that again.
You flinched at the absolute fury in Sebastian's voice and raised your head. His mouth was folded as if he was growling and ready to bite at any second, and his eyes were heavily squinted, betraying the degree of rage and slight blindness due to the bright flash.
You swallowed nervously and hurriedly crawled into the ventilation, muttering quiet apologies.
After that, you spent another day locked in the office room, as you waited for your "good friend" to leave either forward or backward. And you didn't know yet how Sebastian would react if he saw or heard you. You may not have cared about it, but you didn't want a bad relationship with the seller of important items.
Stupid people who make him angry. It's going to go sideways for them.
You squirm a little in place and then get up when you put everything in a bag and hung the weapon on your belt to grab it faster. Although Flash Beacon is not really a weapon, but it can blind anyone for a few seconds.
You stood in place for a while to let the dizziness go away and finally left the room with a quiet but fast step. It was a little hard, because there were no pills in the medicine cabinet, and a slight fever had been holding for the second day. But it was bearable enough to continue on the way.
Although you had some very unpleasant feeling in your heart.
* * *
You've. Made. A. Mistake.
Not only did you start to feel much worse, barely thinking because of the rising temperature, but you also stumbled upon Chris.
And even if there was no direct meeting, because you quickly hid so that you would not be noticed, it was still dangerous.
You could hardly restrain yourself from cursing as you crawled behind the tables to get to the open but broken door, hearing curses from that prisoner and those people who were with him. You tried to ignore his words, because they were very unpleasant, especially when they referred specifically to you. More accurately... They are vulgar and in a rather unpleasant way that makes you frankly sick, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
You stopped for a moment when your head started spinning again, and black dots appeared in front of your eyes for a moment.
It was at this moment that the universe decided that your situation was quite deplorable, so everything went fine.
You were able to crawl out that door and get up as quietly as possible and also quietly hurried away. As you passed through each door and room, you quickened your pace. At the same time, your breathing accelerated, and your lungs ached quite a bit. However, you tried not to pay attention to it, continuing to walk and hastily looking through tables, drawers and cabinets, almost casually stuffing what you found into a bag.
You went through the next door at number 89 and got stuck a little bit, because you had to find the key card. You did not intend to use a code cracker, believing that it would be useful in a critical situation.
You were weakly looking through tables and drawers, wondering how many more doors and rooms you have to go through before you finally get to the crystal. The optimistic part said there wasn't much left, while the realistic part said there wasn't yet. It's not enough to get the crystal, you still need to go back... In such a weak state.
You made a little face thinking about it when you got up from your knees to look through the cabinets. At the same moment, you felt the floor move away from under your feet, and a gust of wind hit your face.
You blinked dazedly, not immediately realizing with your sick brain what had happened before a damp cloth was pressed to your nose and mouth. This caused your body to twitch instantly, which is why whoever grabbed you and held you at a height had to make efforts so that you would not slip out of their grasp.
You barely heard the grumbling above your head, too panicked to understand the words.
The sweet smell of the liquid on the cloth penetrated your airways as you twitched, writhing in the hands of the invader. It didn't do much and you weren't sure what kind of liquid it was, but you weren't intending to let it have any effect on you. You gripped the invader's hand tightly, which pressed a rag to your mouth, and with the other clumsily hit the obviously large body behind you until your hand weakened and fell on the object on your belt. You immediately grabbed and pulled it out, pointing it back and pulled the trigger.
At the same moment, there was a scream and you fell to the floor. You didn't have time to look around and rushed forward, coughing and gasping for air, clutching the handle of the Flash Beacon tightly.
— You little shit!!..
The voice was very loud and full of anger, but you didn't dare stop, even when it seemed familiar to your brain.
You heard a crash behind you as you ran across the room, skirting tables and deliberately knocking over chairs to slow down the attacker, which was a bit effective, judging by the wave of curses and curses, as well as the subsequent cracking sound. Your heart was pounding wildly, which hardly made you hear anything while you were running in a panic.
When the door, the exit, literally appeared in front of you and almost instantly took out a code cracker, pressing it against the panel with a trembling hand. You were breathing hoarsely, barely holding back a startled sob due to the noise and growling from behind, while the panel was making beeping sounds.
A second later, a small squeak was heard, indicating a hacking error.
From this sound, everything inside you froze, as well as all the noise around.
As if in a fog, you raised your head uncomprehendingly, almost desperately looking at the screen with the number of the next room. But instead of numbers, you saw a sad smiley face, as if sympathizing with your situation.
The last thing you saw after that was how a big shadow covered you, a sweet smell mixed with a strong smell of tobacco penetrated your nose before you lost consciousness.
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