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ponderingmoonlight · 11 months ago

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Telling Sukuna you're pregnant after not seeing him for 500 years

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: For more than 1.500 years, you found yourself in a love and hate relationship with none other than Ryomen Sukuna. But when he began to ignore you for more than 500 years, you decide to bind him to you forever - with the help of a pregnancy that shouldn't be possible...

Warnings: (y/n) is a real femme fatale aka bad bitch in this, mentions of smut, language language language, mentions of abuse towards Sukuna, mentions of pregnancy

Click here for Part ll

Your heels click against the floor casually as you swing your hips from side to side, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Finally. The sensation of his presence almost swallowed you whole just like it always did. Oh, how long you’ve waited for this damn moment, how you longed for him to finally appear again. Good for you that that brat decided to swallow your former lover back then.

Well, lover might be the wrong word to describe your relationship. Do you like Ryomen Sukuna? No, absolutely not. Just the thought of being around him sends your eyes into your skull immediately. Do you hate him?

“Can you shut up already? I’m…ah!”

“Stop talking, asshole”, you moaned against his parted lips, the sensation of him mercilessly thrusting into you almost swallowing you whole.

“You’re the worst woman I’ve ever met”, he hissed through gritted teeth, picking up his pace just the way you like it.

“I hate you”, you cried on top of your lungs while digging your nails into his shoulders to pull him even closer, to feel him even better.

You snort. Well, let’s just stay your relationship is rather complicated. But good for you, you took matters into your own hands.

“What do you think you’re doing there, huh?”, you casually question, bored eyes resting on that curse that kneels in front of the pink-haired boy.

“And who are you?”

Oh, it seems like this thing is a brave one. By the look of it and how he carries himself, he might be a special grade curse, he could be quite strong. But definitely not strong enough to even talk to you. You shake your head in amusement, fingers playing with a strand of hair.

“None of your business. I’m here to talk to Sukuna about something important, so get out the way before I drown you.”

“Get in line then. I am the one who will bring him back to life. He needs to assist us.”

“You must feel so brave and strong, huh? But still, you’re too dumb to realize who’s standing in front of you. Let me say it one last time, just because I’m in a good mood today: Get.out.my.way.”

You caress your belly mindlessly. Oh, you really do have some excited news. His face will be priceless when he hears your words. It’s his fault, after all. Who does he think he is to silently disappear for more than 500 years, leaving you alone without even saying goodbye? Looks like Sukuna is sick of you. Well, you’ll definitely bind him to you for the rest of your damned life. Maybe you should film it. What are those things called? Smartphones? Damn, you’re definitely too old for that dumb shit of those stupid humans.

“I’d get out of her way if I was you, curse. Or even better, go back where you came from and spare me with your bullshit, (y/n).”

That dark and unpromising voice, that annoyed undertone. Your eyes widen in nothing but excitement as well as your grin, unnecessary heart almost beating out of your chest. Finally, after all those years.

He’s back.

Ryomen Sukuna is finally back.

“I’m not going anywhere. There’s something very important we have to talk about”, you reply.

Hungrily, you take in his sight. He really does look different in that boy’s body. No wonder, after all he’s still a minor. You scrunch your nose, just the thought of getting close to this shell of a man…

Gross.

“Why are you looking at me like that, huh? Don’t you have somewhere to be, (y/n)?”

He can’t deny it, how desperately he has to supress a sly grin by just one look at you. How do you manage to always look this hot, to make his mind wander? Sukuna hates you with every fiber of his being, how you seem to always be two steps ahead of him. Him, the king of curses. Him, the one who should be in control. Him, who is technically stronger, older and more experienced than you. But oh, you do it so well while wearing that black dress and your pair of heels, the mischievous look on your face simply taking his breath away.

“Don’t worry about me pretty boy, I’m exactly where I should be”, you purr.

Elegantly, you bend down towards him, almost revealing your panties in the process. Your hand glides over his firm chest and wraps around his neck, putting pressure on his windpipe ever so gently.

“Would y’all mind to just leave? We need a little more privacy.”

Nobody dares to move, your sheer presence stopping both girls and Jogo in their tracks. You might not be as powerful as Sukuna, but the way you act alone is enough to tell them you are no one to be messed with.

And the stinging fact that the king of curses literally allows you to choke him.

“W-we…We need to talk to Sukuna”, a female voice behind you speaks out.

Urgh, is a simple no not enough? You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, making Sukuna almost shiver in excitement of what comes next.

“Listen, I tried to be nice, but you brats are testing me. I don’t have time for stupid shit like that, okay?”

One snap. One little innocent movement of your finger is enough to slice both of their heads off in the split of a second, sparing the curse standing behind you only by inches.

“If you don’t want to die right here and now, leave before I’m completely losing it, curse.”

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Did something upset you?”

Your attention goes back to the force of a man in front of you, who lifts himself off the ground effortlessly.

“Well, I was pretty mad when I found out that you found a vessel and didn’t care enough to let me know. After all, I haven’t seen you in…how many years? 500, maybe?”

“Maybe you should leave, then. Because I didn’t miss you a single bit”, Sukuna suggests innocently.

Your bodies are so close to each other that he can’t ignore the heat radiating from your frame anymore. Why do you have to look so enticing in your short black dress? And what is that look on your face?

“Ouch, I’m here because I have something very important to tell you-“

“Get in line then, I don’t have time for your shit right now-“

Your nerves tingle in excitement when you pin him against the destroyed wall behind him.

This. This is the moment you worked you hard for, the moment you’ve been waiting for since he disappeared into darkness.

“I’m pregnant, Sukuna.”

The smile on his face disappears in an instant, you watch in sheer amusement as he turns pale as snow. This is too good to be true, absolutely priceless.

“So you fucked with somebody else, huh?”

“Both you and I know that it’s not possible for a simple human or curse to impregnate a woman like me.”

Oh, he knows damn well that you’re right. Frantically, he pushes his large hand against your stomach, searching for a sign of life. You have to be joking. He was gone for ages. And even though he wasn’t able to not get a taste of you, to not sink into your inviting flesh from time to time, there simply is no possibility, it can’t be true…

His soul leaves his body, breath getting stuck in his throat.

There it is, a tiny movement, a minor heartbeat.

You are indeed pregnant.

“There is no way”, he breathes out.

“Ask be how I did it.”

Your face is only inches away from his, maniac grin laughing down at him. You’ve had this plan in your mind for a long time. After he slipped through your fingers and didn’t return for literal years, you needed a plan. A plan to force him to stay by your side, a plan to bind him to you forever.

Ryomen Sukuna will always be yours. And you made sure of that.

“To be honest, it wasn’t hard to get what I needed for it. You aren’t especially careful when it comes to-“

“It shouldn’t even be possible”, he interrupts you breathlessly.

“You…You little bitch.”

You laugh at him hysterically as he throws you against the wall and chokes you until you see stars.

“Congrats, dear Sukuna. I’m sure you’ll be the best dad ever”, you choke out while sticking out your tongue. ��

“And you’ll stay with me until the end of time.”

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slutforitoshi · 1 year ago

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rin itoshi - ink *:･ﾟ✧

ft. tattoo artist!rin x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: unprotected sex, fingering, oral m!receiving, head pushing, nipple play, choking

synopsis: you intend to get a tattoo on your rib cage, but your tattoo artist is eager to see more skin

wc: 2.3k

A/N: kicking screaming crying at the idea of tattoo artist rin also ty for 500 followers!

you swallow hard as you come face to face with your tattoo artist. rin itoshi was the one of the executive artists at blue lock arts and was usually booked for months in advance. your friend isagi had managed to squeeze you in since he knew him personally.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” he extends a hand, and you shake it lightly, hoping your own palm wasn’t clammy from nerves.

you didn’t know if you wanted to thank isagi or punch him. he warned you rin might be a ‘cold prick’, but what isagi failed to mention was that he was panty-dropping hot. and you were expected to keep still while his hands traversed your body for the next 2 hours.

rin reaches for his tablet before handing it to you, “so i took a look at your ideas and this is what i came up with, let me know what you think”

it’s gorgeous. it wasn’t for no reason that he had become so well-known despite only entering the industry a few years back. the strokes were drawn with precision, and it encapsulated your vision so perfectly he might as well have read your mind.

“rin it’s perfect” you look at him in awe, and it sends a wave of heat to his face.

he turns away to hide the unfamiliar pink color on his cheeks and murmurs a “thanks, it’s my job to.” he was usually nonchalant about his work, but something about your starry gaze made him lose composure.

you’re guided to his tattoo table and ordered to lay down, lifting your shirt to reveal your right rib that you intended to ink up.

“this your first tat?” he asks, noticing the how bare your skin was. something impure crosses his mind thinking how he’d be the first one to leave a mark.

“yup first one” you laugh nervously, “unless you count the failed stick and poke i did myself back in high school”

your anecdote earns an amused scoff from rin, “don’t tell me you used pen ink?”

“yeah and an unsanitized sewing needle, too. the thing got so infected and left a nasty scar,” you replied, lifting your leg to reveal the raised skin on your ankle.

“don’t worry, i’ll make sure this one stays” he’s approaching you now with the tattoo gun, “you’re in good hands here”

his words fill you with warmth, and you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

you both settle into a comfortable silence, with only the slight buzz of the gun to be heard. the lack of conversation allows you to focus your thoughts to another subject: rin.

the view of rin tapped into his artistic zone was comparable to the work he was currently imprinting on your body. his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, lips pursed in concentration. piercing teal orbs would switch their gaze between the reference work and your skin, unnerved by any other environmental stimulus.

another thing that caught your attention was the lack of tattoos he had on him considering his profession. many artists you knew of were covered and had no intention of hiding them, but you couldn’t spot a single spot of ink on rin.

“is there something on my face?” he asks, still not sparing you a glance.

“n-no. just didn’t know where else to look…” you stammer, embarrassed from being caught. you could’ve sworn his lips quirked upwards for a second, but he’s back to being expressionless within a blink.

“well we’re about 75% finished here so let’s take a 10 minute break and then come back to it” he wipes off the excess ink and discards of his gloves.

before he can retreat to his desk you ask, “so how do you and isagi know each other?”

“that bastard and i used to be rivals in high school soccer. he used to be real annoying you know, always talking about ‘devouring’ his opponents” he rolls his eyes, remembering old matches.

“honestly not surprising. i remember he threw a fit when he lost our class’s dance dance revolution tournament,” you laugh reminiscing on your own college memories, “i don’t even know why he tried so hard the prize was a fucking $5 gift card to McDonald’s and he hated that place.”

“apparently gives him debilitating shits” you two finish in unison before bursting into laughter. rin’s laughter is rich and deep, and you try to ignore the shiver it sends down your spine.

“so how are you unfortunately acquaintanced with isagi?” rin settles into a nearby seat, forgoing his intention to leave.

“we actually used to be coworkers at our college part-time job. and we were the only ones willing to do the night shifts so we got pretty close”

rin chuckles, “you must be pretty patient to be able to spend so many hours alone with him.”

“oh trust me he definitely drove me insane. he’s a good friend though, and i got an appointment with you through him so i’m definitely thankful for that” you give a warm smile.

“well, i guess i can thank isagi for introducing us too” he reciprocates your smile, which is quickly interrupted by his manager.

“my ears must be failing me because there’s no way rin is conversing with a customer for once.”

the manager then looks to you and adds, “well i guess it makes sense that he would open up to a pretty thing like you”

the new presence instantly wipes the smile from rin’s face, and he retorts “what do you want otoya?”

“just wanted to let you know that i’m heading out. make sure to lock up when you’re done” he instructs. he’s about to leave before he turns to look at you again, “hey if rin doesn’t end up asking you out i’d be more than happy to-”

“LEAVE OTOYA”

otoya’s hands go up in surrender, but he makes sure to shoot you a wink before turning the corner.

“well he is certainly um interesting” you laugh nervously, surprised at the scowl etched onto rin’s face.

“if you’re interested in him i should warn you that he’s a serial cheater” he mutters, but it only envokes laughter from you.

“trust me i can sense a sleaze from a mile away”

your response softens his gaze a little and he signals for you to lay back down on the tattoo bed to start the final session. you couldn’t help but notice that now that you two were the only ones in the building, the space felt a little more intimate.

as the needle presses into you again, you find the pain to be a hundred times more unbearable as a result of your inflamed skin.

the sensation has you forming tight fists, pressing crescent indents into your palm. and if that wasn’t enough your vocal cords started to betray you, with small whines escaping your lips. unbeknownst to you, those same noises are eating away at rin’s focus. blood is rushing to his head, and not the large one.

“you’re being so good for me, i’m almost done” he whispers in reassurance, rubbing his thumb lightly against your ribcage. his touch effectively distracts you from the pain, sending heat to your lower abdomen.

it’s not much longer before he’s sitting back, announcing that the piece is finished, and encouraging you to sit up and look in the mirror. what’s reflected back at you leaves your mouth agape.

“rin, it’s beautiful”

“yeah, it really is” he agrees, although his gaze never once shifted away from your face.

after a few photos, he’s wrapping up the new ink and getting ready to send you out. as you’re packing up however, you notice a dark trail at the edge of rin’s sleeve.

“what’s your tattoo of?” you ask, catching his attention.

he ponders for a moment before replying, “do you want to see it?”

you nod eagerly, expecting him to roll up his sleeve. however, he opts to discard of his top completely, revealing what could only be deemed as a masterpiece. between that and his incredibly toned body, you were mesmerized.

before your consciousness could stop your instincts, your hand is reaching out to trace over the ink. rin doesn’t stop you, though his skin is burning up from your light fingertips.

“i drew it myself back when i was an apprentice. my boss at the time did it for me.”

his voice snaps you back to reality and you quickly withdraw your hand, cheeks flushed. before you could issue an apology though, his own hands are wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in towards his chest.

“the things you do drive me fucking crazy” he mutters before colliding his lips into yours. the built up tension over the past few hours is cut so suddenly it leaves both of you desperate to get a taste.

your hands wrap around rin’s neck, pressing yourself deeper into his warmth. his fingers are tugging at the underside of your shirt now, itching to feel more of your skin.

he disconnects contact only for a moment to hoist you back up onto the tattoo bed again, lifting your shirt over your head soon after.

“you’re perfection” he growls at the sight of you before diving into capture your beaded nipple between his lips. the other one isn’t neglected either, finding solace between his fingers, rolling back and forth.

“a-ah. it’s sensitive rin” you whine at the sensation, which does nothing to halt his ministrations.

“take them off.” he whispers against your skin, and you need no clarification to know what he means. you kick off your shorts, leaving only your panties stuck against your soaked core.

rin peels them back, marveling at the slick gathered between your thighs. he quickly pushes you back until you’re rested against the bed, and aligns his fingers to your entrance, eager to be intruded.

he doesn’t give you the satisfaction immediately however, circling slowly around where you needed him most.

“rin, please,” you beg, “need you inside”

and how could he deny such an earnest request? two fingers push into you at once with little resistance, but it has you rolling your eyes back, leaning further into the firm leather beneath you.

“looks like you need more” he smirked before a third finger made its entrance. a long drawn out rinnn from your lips has his cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he still remained relentless in his pace.

his digits pumped with such vigor it was impossible to slow down the coil building in your abdomen. his lips attaching to your still-sensitive nipple is what makes you come undone though, and your back is arching against the bed as he’s muttering a, “that’s right, go ahead and cum for me”

with barely a second to recover, you’re ordered to go on your knees as he unzips his jeans to reveal a length you couldn’t fathom fitting within you. the way your mouth watered overrode any fear though and you lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip.

his hand goes flying to your hair, coiling it around his fist tight. he guides you deeper, inch by inch until tears are pricking at the corner of your lashes.

“come on baby, i know you can take more” he encourages, and you relax your throat to take an additional 1-2 inches. the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that ran through you hearing the gutteral moan that escaped rin’s lips.

you built a rhythm going in and out, making sure to circle your tongue at his tip to feel the shudder that ran through him every time. your hair was still gripped between his fingers, so tight his knuckles were turning white. he was getting dangerously close to finishing, and as tempting as that was he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

“that’s enough,” he orders, pulling you to your feet. before you could process the new emptiness, he’s flipped you around, pushing your chest forward into the leather bed.

his guides his tip between your dripping folds, and then pushing once he felt the catch of your entrance. the stretch has you letting out a sigh, and it isn’t long before he’s pulling strings and strings of moans out of you.

one hand is firmly placed at your waist, pulling you against the snap of his own hips. the other is fondling your breasts again, addicted to the plush spilling against his fingers.

“more rin” you plead, and his fingers travel up to your throat, wrapping them tighter until you’re lightheaded. the feeling was intoxicating, clearing your mind of everything but the pleasure.

“so fucking good for me, taking it all” he groans, and his own mind is going to a haze at the squeezes your walls kept inflicting on him. he wouldn’t last much longer at this pace, and it would be such a shame not to cum to such a pretty face.

he quickly pulls out of you, turning you over to face his piercing teal eyes. barely a second passes before he’s entering you again, thrusting with intensity that threatened the bed to tip over.

“want you to fill me up” you moan, sensing that he was close. the request has him releasing any restraint he once held, painting your walls with strips of white. the sight of it leaking past your folds once he pulled out had his cock twitching in pride.

the contrast between rin’s behavior within a span of but 2 minutes was stark, as he took a towel to gently wipe up the mess he left behind.

he places a kiss on your temple, “wait for me in the front ok?”, and turns to start clearing up his work station.

once you had finished trying to make yourself look like you hadn’t just been fucked silly, you waited for rin in the lobby to pay the cost of your tattoo. he simply shut off the register though, leaving you all the more confused.

“wait i still need to pay the rest of-”

“the deposit was plenty,” he shrugs off your concern, “and if you want to tip…you can do it in the form of dinner next week.”

little did you know that he had no intention of letting you pay for that either.

#rin itoshi #rin #rin smut #rin itoshi smut #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk smut #blue lock smut #blue lock imagines #itoshi rin

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applejuicewerewolf · 3 months ago

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Just watched M27 (in cinema! That was cool!!) And oh boy, thoughts!

First of all, I was sooo excited to watch this anime movie in an actual cinema, with other people who were also there to watch an anime movie (in an actual real cinema). Idk, I often still feel like liking anime is something embarrassing, even tho it becomes more and more mainstream, so seeing 20 or so people who also openly announced that they liked it was amazing.

Now, to the actual content of the film:

Love Love LOVE Heiji and Kaito's dynamic here. He was so angry that he drove his fucking motorbike through a window!!

The fact that the KaiShin same face thing is something Heiji is surprised by is very weird, considering that he knew that Kaito always disguises as Shinichi in movies (and yes, the movies have their own continuity, see the fireworks-soccer-ball!!)

Additionally, I watched this film in the German dub. In German, Conan and Shinichi have the same VA, and Ksito has a different one. Still, Heiji makes a note of Kaito sounding similar to Conan (their German VAs do NOT sound similar!!!)

(On that note, they replaced the German VA for Kogoro and I am scared to google why :(( )

Also in the German introduction, Conan LITERALLY calls Kaito his "fated rival" ("schicksalhafter Gegenspieler"), which is very gay for the movie that completely reveals them as cousins.

Kaito feeding seagulls. Just that. It was funny. This is what happens when he has to leave his doves at home. He is a disney princess but only for birds.

Loved the scene where Kaito was attacked while on the ground and was shown to be out of his depth. Catch him on the ground and he is a wingless bird.

Additionally loved that scene because Heiji and Conan jumped in to save him. Their dynamic was so good, with Heiji attacking front and center, Kaito trying to shoot the attacker, and Conan coming clutch with his soccer ball. These three are so much fun together, and I love how throughout the movie they hunt Kaito in one scene, and work with him in the next.

They also alway immediately recognize his disguises??? That was hilarious. These three are one the same wavelenght and I'm all for it.

Oh speaking of disguises, I am VERY surprised nobody even mentioned Okita being the third same face triplet. Would've probably taken away from the KaiShin cousins reveal, I guess?

Minor mention: idgaf about Momiji and I never will. Useless character. Why does she even exist at all. Focus on the main characters...

Okay, I cannot keep quiet about it anymore. The entire "Ginzo gets shot" scene was THE BEST THING EVER. Kaito literally reliving the trauma of losing his parental figure again, and being unable to even SHOW IT OR VISIT HIM? Him having to silently watch as Aoko (MY GIRL IS ON THE BIG SCREEN I ALMOST CHEERED) is going through this all alone??? She probably was still in Ekoda. Did she get a phone call and was flown in to Hokkaido? WHERE THE FUCK IS MIDORIKO IN THIS?!?!?! GOD. This scene. I want 500 character studies of this scene on my desk by tomorrow morning.

That being said, with the Toichi reveal at the end, NOT ONLY did Kaito hide his emotions as he visited his mortally injured father figure in the hospital, his actual father was RIGHT THERE??? TOICHIIII YOU RAT BASTARD I WILL KILL YOU!

Why even WAS Toichi there. Legit. Ugh, I wanna do this in chronological order.

Anyways, AOKO SCREENTIME MY BELOVEEEEED

I feel like she was underused tho. Her only contribution was calling Conan Kaito's twin, and that was it. Feel like that's a running theme with DetCo focusing too much on random murder of the day and not its actual characters (something that also HIGHLY annoyed me during the Scarlet Schooltrip >_<)

Speaking of, that plotpoint was also kinda never mentioned again after the half point of the movie?

Coming towards the end of the story, the car chase with like 5 different parties through the city was hilarious. This is the stupid Shounen action I expect from DetCo movies (but not the stupidest Shounen action we'll get!)

As for the actual plot, I don't really care for that in DetCo movies, I'm more interested in the established characters doing fun and wacky shit.

Also so not a fan of the "murderer misunderstands or misreads a situation, making their murders pointless" storylines in DetCo. Tho M19 was probably the worst one in that reguard (girl what!)

Okay, so the Kendo guy. His mother died to a bombstrike, so he wants to blow up a mountain with lots of civillians on it. Because he's anti war. Girl what.

And now to the peak of Stupid Shounen Battles: swordfight atop a flying airplane, one of the combattants wears no shoes.

Absolutely LOVED Kaito catching Heiji midair. He does it with Conan, he did it with Heiji. Hakuba, you're next.

Sure, Iori just randomly DROPPED A FLASHBANG right in front of Heiji and Kazuha. Tho shout out to my girl Kazuha who was quick and smart enough to cover Heiji's ears as she "Get down Mr President"ed him.

At this point, shoutout to Ran. She gives it her all to make this Ship a thing. Loved her "casually but ominously deduce Heiji's true intentions" thing she did. Go be a love detective, honey!

Okay, the after credit scene. VERY NATURAL REVEAL you guys did there. Just casually have Yusaku suddenly say "yes, my wife whom I have been married to for at least 18 years, I have a twin brother i haven't seen in 2 decades." Wow.

HE REGULARLY TEXTS TOICHI??? TOICHI WHO FAKED HIS DEATH. THEY TEXT! THEY! TEXT!

YOUR SON BELIEVES YOU DEAD AND WANTS TO AVENGE YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE

WHY WERE YOU THERE! WHY WERE YOU IN DIGUISE THIS ENTIRE TIME!

I HATE TOICHI EVEN MORE NOW WTF

Conan kill your uncle with a soccer ball please.

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soapybutt17 · 7 months ago

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Go Easy On Me

Summary:John Price was the most horrible and obnoxious man you had the misfortune of ever meeting in your life, but somehow that was what made you love the man too much for your own good sometimes.. Character: John Price x F!Reader (Call Sign "Sapde") Word Count: 1,663 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Near-Death Experience. Slight Angst. Mention of injuries Mention of Gunshot Wounds. Slight Angst. Happy End. Slight Fluff. Ideas:

Oh, by the way, don't be late for dinner

You're Important to me

You can't get rid of me that easily.

Masterlist | Request are Open || Join My Taglist || 500 Followers Celebration

You laid on the dirt-strewn floor of an abandoned factory, your cheek pressed against the cold concrete. The smell of rust and gunpowder filled the air and the hint of your own blood against your nostril. Each breath a struggle as the pain shot through your shoulder and stomach. You could hear the distant echoes of your team running towards the extraction point, their boots pounding against the ground, fading against the night. You had made sure they got out. That was the only thing keep you grounded in the pain you were feeling.

A dark pool spread beneath you, warm and thick. You tried to move your fingers, but even the simple motion sent a jagged spike of pain through you. You gritted your teeth, closing your eyes to the blinding flickering lights in the rafters above. There was a part of you that wished the gunfire had ended it quickly for you—like ripping off a Band-Aid. But no, it had to be this pathetic slow bleed out, the drawn-out finality on your situation.

Each shallow breath was a reminder of what you haven’t yet done. There were missions you’d planned, the threats you haven’t tracked down, the promises you’d made to your team. A future you might never see. It wasn’t supposed to end like this—not here, not now. You were the one who made the tough calls, who stood strong when others faltered. Now all you could do was listen to the distant sounds of combat and wait for the final moments to come.

Your vision blurred as you looked towards the door where your team had disappeared. You wondered if they made it. If they understood why you forced them to leave you behind. Would they see it as the ultimate act of sacrifice, or would they ever feel guilty for abandoning you? You hoped for the former. It had to be. You couldn’t let your last act be something that haunted any of them.

A faint smile tugged at your lips, the best you could manage. In the midst of the searing pain, there was a flicker of pride—the pride in your team, pride in your career. You led them through impossible situations, inspired them to be their very best. They’d remember you for that, right?

The light overhead flickered again, the bulb straining to stay lit. Your eyes grew heavier, your breathing more labored. Your fingers curled into the concrete, desperate to hold on, to fight back against the inevitable darkness. But the world was slowly slipping away, the sound growing softer, the pain dulling to a numbing ache.

In your final moments, you found yourself thinking about the people you’d never get to see again, the friends and family you’d leave behind. The annoying Co-captain you were forced to work with for this mission was also someone you knew you would miss. Try as you might, you grew found of the man even as he tried his best to get on your nerves every chance he got. The things you’d wanted to say to him but never did. Regret mingled with acceptance as your body grew colder, the life draining from you with each passing second.

The door creaked open, and a faint light spilled into the room. Your eyes fluttered open one last time, your gaze drifting towards the familiar silhouette in the doorway. Price.

“John.” You whispered.

“There you are, Darling.” He began approaching you. His hand holding onto the wound in your stomach, stopping from the blood seeping out. “Let’s get you patch up.”

He tried to maneuver you even with every movement you made was painful all over again. It ended with you being carried Bridal style in his arms.

“Why did you come back?” You questioned him, with him now in your presence, you tried your best to keep your eyes open. You looked at the man, the man that radiated confidence and often times, arrogance. But you saw none of it from where you laid in his arms.

You saw fear and worry.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He answered walking a bit faster knowing the urgency of your injuries. “You’re important to me and I would never allow anything to happen to you.”

At those words, the full meaning of his words you found yourself drowning into the darkness as the images of a life you can still have was now filled with waking up in the arms of the man you had thought was worse human being you had the misfortune of ever meeting in your life.

Your consciousness was in and out, glimpses of screaming and crying was ingrained in your unconscious state. Some were from your team, some were from the Captain but the next thing you heard was the rhythm of your breaths. Slow and shallow. The beeping of medical equipment became more consistent as you regained your sense of self, your awareness fighting against the haze of painkillers and the show from your injuries. You felt like you were underwater, everything blurred and muted.

The first thing you noticed was the sterile smell of the hospital room and the warmth of a soft blanket draped over you. You slowly blinked your eyes open, your gaze focusing on the ceiling’s bland whiteness. Your shoulders throbbed with dull pain, your stomach ached, but you were alive. The realization was both a relief and a shock, your memory flashing back to the gunfight, the blood, the desperate choice to stay behind.

There was movement in your left. You turned your head, grimacing at the stiffness in your neck, and saw Captain John Price sitting beside your bed. His face etched with concern, his cap resting on his knee, his weathered eyes fixed on you. The lines in his face seemed deeper, as if the worry for you aged him overnight.

“Welcome back, Spades.” He said, his voice low and steady. It was the kind of voice that had pulled many through the darkness of times, you had becoming a believer of it when he came back for you that night.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and tight. Instead, you gave him a faint nod, a weak smile playing at the corner of your lips. The effort was exhausting, but you didn’t want him to see how much pain you were in.

"You scared the hell out of us," Price continued, leaning forward slightly. "Thought we lost you back there." He glanced down at his cap, turning it in his hands. "But you held on. Tough as nails, just like always."

Your memories came back in fragmented pieces—Price’s voice in your earpiece, the gunfire, the shouting, and the last thing you remembered before everything went dark: his arrival and his confession. He told you how important you were to him, just as you slipped away. It had been so sudden, so unexpected, and you didn’t have the strength to respond.

Your eyes locked with his, searching for the same emotion he’d shown back in that factory. You saw it there, a mix of relief and something deeper, something more personal. Price seemed to realize what you were thinking, and he sighed looking down at this cap again.

“Look, Spade,” He sighed, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. This was not the same Captain that thrived in arguing with you constantly. “I meant was I said before you…you know.” He gestured in the air vaguely, his hand indicating the medical equipment surrounding your bed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d heard me, but I couldn’t let you go without saying it. I know it’s not the best time or place, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.”

You swallowed, the words finally coming to you. “I heard you, John.” You said, your voice. I just couldn’t respond.” You took a shaky breath, gathering your strength. “I—” Your voice faltered, but you managed to steady it. “I don’t know what to say but you’re important to me too, Price.”

Price nodded, his expression softening with relief now. “It’s okay. We don’t have rush into anything. You just focus on getting better, and we’ll figure out the rest.” He gave you a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re back with us.”

It took months before you were medically cleared and even allowed back in base. You were welcomed with the sight of your team, wrapping you in their arms, tears falling in each and every single one of them when you returned back better than ever.

“Welcome back, Spade.” It was Price that had interrupted the mini reunion with the rest of your team.

“Captain.” You smiled, for once you weren’t here to argue about him with what had transpired in the mission that left you injured and almost at the brink of death.

“I think there are some paperworks that need your attention at the moment.” He announced ruining your reunion.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the man. Typical for him at this point.

“Oh, by the way, don’t be late for dinner.”

You raised your brows at his last statement before he left you at the hands of your team, each and every single one of them wondering what has transpired during the mission and your recovery.

“What does he mean by dinner, Cap?” One of your Sergeants turned her attention towards you.

“Since when have you been buddy buddy with the worst man you had the misfortune of meeting, Spade?” Your lieutenant added.

“Go easy on me.” You sighed knowing so much has changed between you and the Captain, but it was a good change.

Who would have ever thought it would take a near death experience for you and one Captain John Price to be on good terms and eventually start a relationship that most of your team as well as his own have guess to eventually happen between the two of you.

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abbysbasement · 2 years ago

Text

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

— PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table.

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends.

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean.

And somehow, despite everything, it worked.

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago.

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!”

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed.

“Not interested, sorry.”

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off.

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit.

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?” She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence.

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay. She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way.

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod.

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns.

“-And, and! I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.”

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one.

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed.

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily.

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest.

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery.

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed.

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house.

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off.

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room.

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs.

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

It’s fun being sardonic sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass. She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well. Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell.

–

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right?

Whatever.

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.”

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely.

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing.

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body.

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in.

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall.

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies.

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum. Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up.

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line.

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it.

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.”

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity.

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin.

You jumped.

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage.

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself.

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.”

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed.

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants.

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands.

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness.

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips.

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots.

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.”

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real.

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly.

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more.

She obliged.

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else.

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection.

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly.

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it.

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold.

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow.

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers.

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it.

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again. You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes.

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone.

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile. Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants.

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips.

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint.

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on.

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming.

Yeah.

#tiki writes #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson ff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby tlou smut #abby smut #abby anderson x female reader

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olivianyx · 8 months ago

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UPDATES ON MY JOURNEY

Heyy all! I've been focusing on my senior professional medical year and it has been stressful. So here are some things I manifested effortlessly and a few things without me thinking about it. Long ass post ahead! ⚠️⚠️

1. Getting more pocket money than usual. Like my parents usually transact in my account like a $80 or $100 AUD per month. But in both feb and march this year, they transacted me $500 and $700 AUD! Plus! I occasionally find $10 or $50 cash in my classroom or on the streets sometimes (and they come lie next to my feet 😭) I'd ask everyone in my class if it's theirs, and they say no. What do y'all expect me to do? Like go and give it to the university management?? 😭 hell no, so i kept it lol.

2. MANIFESTED DIOR'S LIP OILS!! 😭😭 LIKE 5 OF THEM 😭 YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE OBSESSED WITH LIP OILS 😭😭 AND I WANTED THE RASPBERRY ONE SO BAD, AND GUESS WHAT? I MANIFESTED IT ALONG WITH 4 OTHER SHADESS OMGGG 😭😭😭

3. My crush giving me hints that she's obsessed with me 😭 like she literally told me 'you're so sweet and caring, I've never met a person like this after my grandma' cus her grandma passed away recently and she was so depressed. She even had an eye infection, so she stopped coming to the uni. So i had to make sure she's alright, and met her everyday cus she needed someone real bad. Like she needed to talk to someone and get that thing bothering her outta her head. I was there all along whatever she was going through (don't come at me y'all, ik if we help someone they would say all these things but she's my crush lol so) She's also getting real close to me, like she tells me how annoying people are lol. She loves skin ship, physical touch, being clingy around me, and complimenting me 😭😭 so these are the hints 😭 like friends wouldn't do that right? Would they?? (My friends diss me right in front of everyone 😶)

4. I've always been the type to care too much for the silliest things, nowadays I don't really put my energy into it and become all anxious. My anxiety levels have completely gone down like I'm literally cool asf?? Even while being in public?? Literally yess

5. Manifested getting my hair coloured next week! and my mom permitted me! For my cousin's engagement in april, I wanna be there like the hot younger sister I am lol. I just wanna make my relatives and their kids jealous cus they made fun of me when I was younger (my younger self has been dreaming for this moment) so why not a revenge glow up?? 😭

6. Losing weight even though I eat like a pig due to my study stress. Like literally I ate a 5 course meal one day and lost 2 kgs the next day? (cus I randomly checked my weight for 2 days cus I had to submit my height and weight to the university student records)

7. Getting a natural blush on my face! Like it's such a game changer, I look like a movie star y'all 😭✋🏻

8. My teachers complimenting me for my discipline and high scores. As yk uni professors don't even give af bout students and they complimented me??

9. Getting into a new friend group! My old one was too toxic and they would always bully me (verbally) my new friend group is literally soo damn enjoyable! Like they're the cool kids of the year 😭 and now I'm one too!

10. As I mentioned in my older post that I'm moving into an apartment. We moved in and it was too difficult for me to sleep as the place was new and also there we're disturbances in the night time like stomping noises or playing loud music at night. So the neighbors there were too sweet that they introduced and comforted us that it's okay and if something's bothering us they'll take care of it. And they literally made the people who we're causing those disturbances to vacate out 😭😭✋🏻

11. My hair getting shinier! It was brittle before as I was severely anemic, now my baby hair is back and it's shining ✨

12. I overheard my parents conversing that they should make me audition for an entertainment company....like what? 😭😭✋🏻 when I asked them once years back they denied giving me a 4 hour lecture and now they wanna make me audition?? Like literally 😭 y'all watch me at the Grammy's (after 5 years lol)

13. Getting into the void on command or intention.

14. I literally get free foods everywhere I go 😭😭

15. I got free gifts from my uncle who's living in France! He works at a fashion company and he sent me perfumes and a few outfits (I can't reveal it I'm sorry)

I ONLY WAS THINKING ABOUT GETTING MY LIP OIL, GETTING CLOSE TO MY CRUSH AND FOCUSING ON MY STUDIES. THE REST, I MANIFESTED WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT.

SO WHAT NEXT?

I've decided to respawn to my waiting next month. I'm still scripting how my waiting room should be... So it might take time for me. So till then I'm gonna be strengthening my self concept even more, and also getting more and more excited to be in my waiting room! I want my waiting room to be like a more like a sci fi movie and a princess fairytale combined 😭 (ik I'm weird). Like I just want my favorite anime characters to be there to help me script my DR ✋🏻 So I'm kinda in a more excited mode lately to script my waiting room! Will give you updates on how my waiting room will be in a future post! So until then take care, love you, byeeee byeeee!

- olivia 🤍

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quixotical-lymbo · 4 months ago

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Hi- I was wondering if I could request separate Wukong and Macaque headcanons for a reader who forgets to do important stuff? Not like work stuff or anything like that- but like- vital stuff? Like sometimes they forget to eat or sleep or take care of themselves properly. It’s not that they don’t want to, they just forget sometimes. But with their friends and people they care about, they never forget. Always reminding the group to eat and rest and stay hydrated while pushing their own needs to the side? only if your comfortable doing this of course!

Pairing: Wukong, Macaque & gn!Reader Rating: SFW Warnings/Tags: Y'know the drill, fluff, brief mentions of starvation, lack of sleep, and some crack from you-know-who. Word Count: 500+ words 🍜 - didn't know if you wanted romantic or not, but I guess you can decide for yourselves if want it to be either or!

WUKONG

☀️ At first, Wukong thought you were playing some long con joke. I mean, there's no way you could forget to take care of a few important factors in your small, mortal life? I mean, even he knew not to miss a meal or nap if he could help it!

☀️ However, Wukong managed to witness it himself whenever he had the opportunity to visit PIgsy's shop. You seemed fairly normal, save for the heavy dark bags under your eyes and the way you took a few seconds to reply to anyone, but overtime Wukong could tell you hadn't slept a wink last night.

☀️ He'd bring it up in a joking manner, and when you sheepishly reveal that you forgot, his joking tone would turn into that typical older brother tone and remind you about the importance of sleep and how your body is a temple yadda yadda yadda.

☀️ After it happened a few more times, Wukong would feel a bit exasperated ESPECIA-FUCKING-LY when you would remind MK or Mei to get enough sleep or eat their meals on time.

☀️ Literally would be like, "Oh, you're one to talk." or "Are you sure you aren't reminding yourself to do these things?"

☀️ At this point, he's gonna bully you into remembering.

☀️ Overall, underneath all the teasing and playful gestures of him forcing food into your mouth–Wukong is worried about your forgetfulness, even if you don't mean to forget.

MACAQUE

🌙 Assuming that the two of you tolerate each other to be above the acquaintance stage, he wouldn't care at first. I mean, people normally forget to do things in favor of other responsibilities–and he wasn't your warden, so who was he to remind you to take care of yourself? Plus, with how often you remind the others to eat and drink water, he assumed you were on top of your shit.

🌙 Oh, how wrong he was.

🌙 Macaque didn't think he'd end up being the one to supervise how much you ate, drank, and slept without your knowing. Without being obvious, he'd sometimes slip a cup of water in your general vicinity, an apple here and there, or even kidnap you and bind you to your bed until you closed those annoying eyes of yours.

🌙 You were very…persistent in your forgetfulness that Macaque stopped keeping an eye on you just to see what would happen.

🌙 Well, you passed out in the middle of the street due to dehydration.

🌙 Never again.

🌙 Anyway, he learned to not stress himself out with this problem as he turned to MK to take over his duties as your 'mom.'

🌙 From time to time he'll check up on you, but he'll keep his distance unless the situation calls for him to step in and make sure you're safe.

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

#lego monkie kid #lmk & reader #lmk six eared macaque #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong & reader #macaque & reader #thanks for requesting!

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projectbluearcadia · 4 months ago

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[P1] Heart of Blue

Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

[ Scenario: After a sweet and short date, Lucifer gets a l'il greedy and wants to spend some more time with you. With cuddles straight into caring sex, Lucifer wants to savor every moment.

Part 1 is fluff; Part 2 is fluffy smut. ]

I am publishing before my self-imposed due date for once, but it comes at the price of two parts. Here's to all the vanilla Luci-lovers <3.

Wordcount - 1178

“I was just thinking about getting...” What—Where the hell did he go?! you think as you look for Lucifer through mounds of antiques. Bizarre china, paintings, books, borderline ancient tools, rusty plant holders, old clothes, and no sign of your (stupid) boyfriend. He was right next to me! you think, annoyed as you wander back through the way you came.

“Look at this,” you hear him say, before you feel his hand around yours—half-shocking you to death—before he drags you in the direction he's been looking. A wall full of pans. What in the ninth hell is he… “It’s Dead Steel,” he explained, hefting one such pan off the wall before he placed it into your hands and nearly made you drop to the floor in the process. He laughed softly as you struggled to hold it, shaking as you carefully set it down onto a dangerously creaking floorboard.

“And… And why is that so fascinating?” you ask, trying to conceal your exasperation with him, and he turned to look at you, bemused.

“It’s Dead. Steel,” he said, again, before he effortlessly swung the pan up by the handle and inspected the engraving. “The Devildom long fazed out of using it because the material is highly resistant to being enchanted. It’s heavy, it’s damn near indestructible, great for hitting people…” He flipped the pan over, fascinated as his burgundy eyes roved over it. “I haven’t seen one of these in thousands of years.” His eyes widened at the dark red, nearly invisible squiggle on the bottom. “Wait, this is my pan. I was wondering where that went.”

“...you really are an old man,” you can’t help but snicker. To think he was so old that his possessions were ending up in antique shops that sold only items that were at least 500 years old.

“Oh, shut up, you,” he grunted. “You aren’t even the sperm cell that squirted from your father’s penis.” You find yourself furtively looking around while you cringe, hoping to low hell that no one heard that.

“Lucifer!” you scold, and he chuckled.

“Aw, does this old man embarrass you?”

“Yes, but more importantly, please do not talk about my father’s genitals.” Some things are better left to the imagination, although Lucifer hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that concept yet.

“You started it,” he hums, apparently pleased with your reaction nevertheless as he takes the 25 kilo pan in one hand. Child. He is actually a child, you complain in your head as he swings the handle on one finger. I guess he’s buying it. And how is he doing that? “MC, if you don’t pick something, I will buy something for bed,” he teases, picking up a cat o’ nine tails and shaking it tauntingly at you.

“Now that you mention it, I was very interested in something before you ran off, thank you,” you answer shortly before you take him by the hand instead, dragging him back to where you had been roaming before he went and disappeared, shoving him in front of a small, glass case. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and his leather-gloved hands rest lightly on the case.

“You really will melt my heart one of these days, MC,” he says solemnly, confusing you as you look back at the case. It’s just a pair of fountain-tipped pens that were completely unremarkable aside from what appeared to be two different snakes wrapped around them. One was the color of the ocean, and the other was the color of the sky. It wasn’t one ocean or one sky, because the snakes’ scales had been painted one by one into a satisfying gradient.

“Is it because they’re cheap?” you guess, and Lucifer shakes his head as he takes the glass case with a faint yet bittersweet smile. Reminiscing, but it’s not the same. Did I find a precious memory by accident?

“No, not at all,” he replies as he takes the case with him, still faintly smiling as he brings both items to the register, paying for them both (He got a discount just because of who he was. Bastard).

“So are you going to tell me?” you prod as he hands the case to you, turning the pan in his hand as he walks in the direction of home with you. “Did you own these too?” He inclines his head. So he just bought back two old possessions. I’m almost surprised he didn’t demand that he receive them for free.

“I gave them to Lilith as a gift,” he replies wistfully. O-Oh. Wow. Out of all the pens in the world I could pick… “I never really liked the man whom she would eventually call her husband, but I wasn’t stubborn enough that I couldn’t see how happy he made her. I gave them to her so that they could write to each other discreetly.” His tenderness, his kindness and his rich smile in that moment make you remember exactly why you fell in love with this prideful little bugger.

“So… it’s a fond memory,” you clarify, and Lucifer softly chuckles behind his fist, his eyebrows scrunching together as he walks next to you, his step slow as if he never wanted to stop walking with you.

“Fond, stupid, sweet… she actually argued with me about it because she said I’d be punished too if she was caught using them. I ended up yelling at her.” Lucifer smiles a little bitterly. “I would have rathered that God held me responsible as her older brother…?” Lucifer glances at you in confusion as you shake your arm in pain. “MC, did you just hit me?”

“Really need to make it a habit to use magic to protect myself when I do that,” you grumble to yourself, rubbing your elbow, which had made contact with his oblique. Like elbowing a wall, Jesus... “Yes, I hit you. You’re doing the thing again. What’d we talk about?”

“‘You are not at fault for your sister’s death, you do not deserve to be punished for your sister’s death, and no one blames you for your sister’s death. God can eat shit and go fuck himself,’” Lucifer parroted, word-for-word.

I’m happy you remember, but you really should be saying that from a first-person perspective... “I’m sorry. I know she’d hit me herself just the same. It’s just… difficult sometimes.” Lucifer shifted the pan to his other hand and offered his now-free one to you. You squeeze the glass case in your left before you lay your right in his, smiling with contentment as he looks at you fondly. “All the more reason to prize the things I have.” He gave you a surprise kiss on your temple as he leaned closer to you. “I have a meeting with Diavolo in half an hour, but…”

“But?” you prompt, and he rests his head against yours.

“If… you’re not busy, then we’re cuddling up somewhere.”

“Big softie,” you accuse lightly before you kiss his cheek. ‘If you’re not busy’; what a load of nonsense, you think with a smile. He already knows I don’t have anything to do today. I guess Diavolo’s just going to have to wait…

#and Diavolo doesn't care #because he's a good friend #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #fanfiction #obey me!#shameless self indulgence #obey me #lucifer brainrot #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer fluff #obey me lucifer x reader #cuddle monster #soft luci #nostalgia

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miss-starlet · 1 year ago

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♡ Pet Play W/ Minnie ♡

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 500+

Warnings: Punishments, Bondage, titles such as master & owner, mentions of spanking and degradation.

Kitty Minne (Receiving):

♡ I know everyone loves a good bratty Minho (Guilty ✋️), however I want to say it's not often the case. On a scale I probably would say 70% good boy and 30% a brat.

♡ He just wants to be loved and spoiled. Which might lead into bratty kitty territory when he doesn't get his way.

♡ Licks and nibbles at your hand and fingers. All the love bites from him.

♡ When he is good, he is your prize kitten who want to be pampered. Pls help him put on his collar w/ a little bell and ears. Brush his hair, give him tons of pets, and kisses. An absolute cutie when he is all dolled up!

♡ He is a big fan of bondage, especially loves when you bind his legs and elbows so that they are forced to stay bent and have to crawl around.

♡ One of Minhos favorite things is to cum. When he starts to get bratty and misbehave, taking away his orgasms is a good way to get him back to acting like your good kitty.

~♡~

Minho was seated by your feet on the floor. Dawning his fluffy kitty ears and baby blue collar. All day he has been naughty, but you knew just what to do to make him behave again.

You gently patted your thighs to catch Minho's attention, making soft "psk" noises to get him to join you on your lap.

He gazed up at you with those honey-brown eyes, scrowling at you; clearly annoyed.

"Does Minnie need help getting up?" You asked teasingly, putting your hands under his armpits and lifting him up into your lap. "I didn't need help."

"Don't get all grumpy with me mister. Doesn't my kitty want to feel good? " You asked. Your hand wraps around his dick, starting of with slow tugs before jerking him off merciless. Minho's moans starts to get louder and louder as your speed increases.

"Y/Nnie p-please" Minho's body squirms between your legs as your other hand comes around his waist to still him.

"So loud baby and so needy too." Your hand stops and he whined loudly. His hips started to thrust up against the air, trying to feel some type of sensation.

"My bratty little baby just doesn't deserve to cum, does he?" You ask as your fingers grabbed his chin, shaking his head no.

Owner Minho (Giving):

♡ A very strict, but loving owner. Will spoil you rotten by letting you have whatever you want as long as you are good for him. Buys you a new collar and toys almost every week because he loves how excited you get when he gives them to you.

♡ He doesn't mind whatever animal you want to be, but it will change how soft or rough he plays with you. If you are his kitty, he will treat you just like his own cats. If you are his little puppy, he will be a lot more rougher with you.

♡ Minho has many rules he expects you to follow, and he isn't very lenient with them. Some of his rules include not speaking unless asked, always calling him by his title (master or owner), and respecting him.

♡ He doesn't like to be disrespected, and he doesn't mind training that brat attitude right out of his pet.

♡ Will spray you with a water bottle.

♡ When you misbehave, he turns into a big meanie. He does give you a chance to correct yourself depending on what rule you broke, however, if you keep on he will punish you. He is mean and vile with what he says when degrading you. Spanking is his favorite punishment to give you, especially when he is able to use his belt or get out his favorite paddle.

~♡~

Minho had came home and surprised you with a new tail plug that had a vibrator setting. He made sure to get his little pet ready by helping you put on your collar and new tail.

You were kneeling in between his feet trying to be good and not squirm. He set it to the lowest setting, and to say you were desperate was an understatement. You rubbed your head against the fabric of his jeans, whining softly.

"Aw, my poor kitten. Don't worry, your master will take care of you."

"P-please" You whine out, Minho hand find their way into your hair, pulling your head back.

"Kittens don't talk." Minho said as he unbuttons his pants, following the action by unzipping his fly and pulling his cock free from his underwear.

"Does my kitty want a taste?" You nod, while letting him move you head close to the tip by your hair.

"You been so good for me, how about you enjoy your reward?"

#skz smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #sub stray kids #sub skz #sub lee know #lee know smut

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qqtxt · 2 years ago

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[🌸] love bites w/ txt

✿ pairing: ot5 x reader / slightly crack (?) mostly cute fluff / mentions of food and eating ✿ mini-fics with each member for the same situation / less than 500 words for each member / altogether, word count: 1,187 words ✿ in which you have a cute habit of biting them... ✿ my love language is biting people i love, so here’s how i think the boys would react >:) [masterlist 🌸] / other members under the cut! / @kflixnet📍

eating together with the guys was a normal and regular occurrence. it’s like they’ve adopted you into the group and whenever time allows, it’s a thing to have you over and order in to enjoy one another’s company in the privacy of their dorm. as you’re all seated on the floor, surrounding the coffee table and enjoying the meal...

[🐰] soobin soobin’s next to you, relishing the bites of chicken with one hand, the other resting on your thigh. you had no idea where the urge came from, but you lean over towards soobin’s hand holding the piece of chicken. he’s already ready to share with you, trying to align the chicken to your lips, only to yelp with a ah! when you bite his hand instead of the chicken right in his hand.

yeonjun laughs, watching the whole thing go down and claps in amusement. soobin looks at you in bewilderment, only to shake his head with the roll of his eyes as he goes back to eating. your laugh laces over with yeonjun’s as you two high five across the table. though soobin looks annoyed, he breaks out into a small smile after chewing his food.

tl;dr: soobin thinks it’s so adorable that he’ll bear through the pain (not that it actually hurts). potentially would feign annoyance but would love for you to do it whenever you pleased. might bite you back if he feels like it.

[🦊] yeonjun yeonjun’s enjoying the soda in small sips from his cup, occasionally taking yours in the process. he accepts the way you feed him a mouthful of ramen and giddily shakes his body (the guy loves ramen through and through) in appreciation. after you take a gulp of soda, you set the cup down and watch as he reaches for your hand to hold in the midst of the guys’ chit chat.

seeing your hand in his, the temptations strike and–yeonjun’s not fazed by it, only scoffing a laugh as he turns to you. you bring his hand to your lips again, this time biting his wrist lightly and he can’t help but smile at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair before focusing on the conversation at hand.

beomgyu proceeds to turn the spotlight onto the both of you, clearly stating favouritism when yeonjun gave him an uppercut for biting his calf once but here you are, nom-nom-ing away on his hand and yeonjun isn’t annoyed? gasps–the privilege.

tl;dr: yeonjun doesn’t mind it. thinks it’s adorable. wouldn’t necessarily bite you back but would resort to other means to get you to stop like hugging you tight or making sure he can grip onto your hand so that you can’t easily pull his hand to bite.

[🐯] beomgyu he’s leisurely playing with your fingers as you rest your head on his shoulder. food coma was about to hit hard and you’re certain you’d nap later in his room. for now, as the guys chat about games and upcoming movies, you turn the cheek and–beomgyu lets out a whiny ah! when he feels your teeth lightly biting his shoulder.

soobin’s attention is drawn from taehyun and kai animatedly talking about a game they want to play, seeing how beomgyu pouts at your chuckles. you lean forward to do it again, biting his shoulder and beomgyu pretends to get hurt, clutching onto his shoulder where you bit him.

“do it again, bite his arm off.” soobin nudges you by the knee, and you’re tempted to bite beomgyu’s shoulder again. he allows you to do it only because he’s able to see that sheepish grin of yours after; a mix between shyness and playfulness that he loves to see. plus, it didn’t hurt when you bite him, anyway.

then it was soobin’s turn to yelp when beomgyu throws himself over to bite soobin’s shoulder. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry! stop biting me!”

tl;dr: loves it. lives for it. only because he’s able to see how you’re cheeky yet shy about it at the same time. likes knowing that you can be playful whenever you want around him and would bite you back too if he feels like it. though, he might make a bargain with you that each time you bite him, you’d have to kiss him to make up for it (not that you mind...)

[🐿] taehyun he hadn’t realised the boys were looking at him until he takes a mouthful of rice to accompany the piece meat you’ve fed him, now eyes widening at the attention. it was more surprise than shock when the boys then start to laugh, kai pointing at taehyun’s arm from across the table and–”oh,” taehyun snorts, patting your head and showing no reaction when he sees your mouth is quite literally on his upper arm.

“told you. zero shit given.” you pull away from his arm and chuckle, proceeding to lean against him as taehyun continued to eat. it’s like it didn’t even happen when taehyun reaches for a piece of kimchi, directing it towards your mouth that you accept willingly and he smiles seeing you eat.

he doesn’t miss the murmurs coming from next to him, though. because just as beomgyu tries to lean over with his mouth dangerously close to the other side of his upper arm, taehyun holds his hand up–”unless you want my fist to your face, don’t do it.”

tl;dr: taehyun doesn’t really care and is unaffected by it. doesn’t really react much but inside, he likes knowing he has your affection in any possible way or form. might lightly bite you back once in a while if he’s feeling playful but most of the time would look at you endearingly (or weirdly, depending on his mood) as you bite him wherever you wanted.

[🐧] kai the boys know what’s about to happen when kai tries to feed you a piece of french fry, only to have you willingly eat the food but also bite his finger in the process. when kai inhales and exhales out cuteness, the kind of cuteness thats: augh, why did you bite my hand? are you still hungry? is my baby still hungry?

the spotlight momentarily lands on the two of you as you start to laugh, as kai does and everyone’s laughing like a domino effect. it’s not until you reach to kiss his cheek, but then decide to bite his cheek that he’s about to go full on cute mode that yeonjun puts a hand on kai’s head: “for the sake of everyone’s sanity here, please stop.”

kai’s only laughing because you’re laughing, and you know he can’t stop unless you do so yeonjun uses another hand to put on your head as well, “the both of you, please.”

tl;dr: the biting war meets the cute war begins to take over. loves it because he finds it adorable but would resort to acting cute to combat your acts of trying to bite him. either one, the rest of the guys don’t know if they want to barf or squeal over the sheer amount of cuteness overflowing from the both of you.

#kflixnet #txt scenarios #txt reactions #txt imagines #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader

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ireadwithmyears · 9 days ago

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Hi! Would you be able to write something for the clones (any of them) with a reader who has a guide dog. I've been running into a lot of issues with people trying to distract her and borderline harassing us (the president of my university follows us around with his unleashed dog running up to us, someone grabbed her nose when we were on a bus and then screamed at us, I'm a biology/genetics major so we get some subtle discrimination in academic opportunities like research projects, etc). Also I don't currently live somewhere with public transportation so I have to take Uber to get anywhere which is a whole other nightmare (a driver dropped us off at the wrong location and I was stuck in a sketchy part of town for 45 minutes while drivers kept denying us a ride). Maybe something with how the clones would comfort/handle their SO dealing with these things. Obviously you don't have to write about all of these scenarios, just some ideas

You don't have to of course, but I figured it was worth an ask:)

Looking Out for You:Part 1

Pairing: Commander Fox/fem Reader

Visually impaired reader masterlist

Word count: 4.1 K

Tags/warnings: Visually impaired reader, meet cute, grumpy x sunshine vibes, denial of feelings(Fox falls first, he falls hard, and he denies it every single step of the way because he’s Fox), guide dog cuteness, brief mention of ableism(this chapter is pretty tame, but in future installments, I intend to explore these elements more deeply, specifically as they pertain to service dog users. These topics aren’t always the most comfortable to discuss. But I feel they are important to bring awareness to)

Summary: Making the transition from your small, rural homeworld to Coruscant already promises to be tough. But when you’re employed to work at the Senate buildings directly under senator Organa and you’re also a guide dog user, things quickly become more complicated, in a variety of ways. Luckily, you seem to have caught the eye of a certain Marshal commander, who swears up and down that he’s not falling in love with you, but who, regardless, always has your back, and is always looking out for you.

A.k.a.

The three times Fox makes sure that you get home safely. Plus the one time he ends up following you inside

Authors note: Hii anon. I was so happy to hear from you and received this request. As a fellow guide dog user, I have so many different experiences that I feel are worth sharing, so that more people are aware of the trials we face because as amazing as it is that we have these incredible animals, it isn’t always just a nice walk in the park. Which leads me to my next point. Because of all of these experiences that I want to highlight, this 1shot quickly evolved into a four part series, to give it the proper breathing room that I feel it deserves. I hope that’s okay, and I hope you still like this one. If you’d like to message me privately so that I can make sure you’re tagged in each subsequent update, please do. I’d be happy to do that

The first time it happens, Fox is admittedly running on his default, which is to say in plain terms that he is annoyed.

“Why is this my problem?”

Fox winces upon hearing the barely concealed snarl in his own voice through his helmet speakers. He could have phrased that better. He should have at least taken the courtesy to add “with all due respect” when leading into that sentence, even if both he and the trooper who has the misfortune of being at the other end of the line are both fully aware that he doesn’t intend to sound respectful in the slightest.

There’s a pause, a hesitation on the other end of the coms, which causes Fox to silently berate himself for his initial sharp tone. He reminds himself, as he does about 500 times daily, that he needs to be more careful with it.

This warning, for some reason, always falls on deaf ears. But still, Fox wagers that he at least keeps trying, and who knows, maybe one of these days, it’ll actually stick. It probably won’t.

“It’s just that the issue is occurring at the entrance closest to your office, sir,” the trooper begins before rushing to add, “but if you’re busy, we can send—”

“Don’t bother,” Fox sighs. “I’m already on my way there.”

Maybe he shouldn’t be on such a high horse, but really, being sent to investigate a loitering complaint is far above what he, as a marshall commander, should be doing. Despite this though, he privately admits that he’s been looking for an excuse to stand up from his desk chair and stretch his legs. Maybe if he’s lucky, he'll manage to shake off the aching twinge in his left shoulder, hunched from filling out a last-minute stack of crime reports that he had been on the scene of, all from the previous night between the hours of 1 to 3 in the morning. So really, he rationalizes, can anyone blame him for being more than a little bit pissed off at the interruption?

Maybe it’s a sign that he needs a refill on his caf.

He rounds the corner and, with what is in hindsight probably more force than is necessary, smacks a hand against an access panel. The door slides open, and a cool breeze hits him as he steps outside into the open air.

His eyes scan through the visor of his helmet, and to his annoyance he doesn’t see the suspected loiterer that he had been warned of, at least not at first.

Sighing, he steps further out and past the awning above the entrance. Though the air is cool, the sun still shines, and the slight glow causes his eyes to catch on the gloss of your hair as you walk past, eyes nervous as they flick around. Sensing his presence, you pause, shoulders stiffening slightly as you turn to face him with trepidation. Fox also takes notice, his eyes widening in momentary surprise when he observes the guide dog harnessed at your left side, looking up at you with big brown eyes, as if silently trying to understand your sudden hesitance.

You, of course, have every reason to be suspicious of any unannounced or unidentified presence in your vicinity, especially now that you’re living on Coruscant. But, if you’re honest, you’re already on edge, and even though it’s still morning, the day has promised to be shit if the beginning of it is any indication.

Senator Organa isn’t in the habit of firing his junior staff for small mistakes like this, you remind yourself. Still, the thought, no matter how many times you’ve repeated it like a mantra at this point, doesn’t manage to calm your growing nerves, because regardless you’re still lost, and you’re still running late. You silently curse the pitfalls of being blind and using a ride-sharing service, and then you have to restrain yourself from cursing aloud when your eyes land on the silhouette parked a few meters in front of you.

You don’t have much vision. But with what you do have, it’s enough to deduce bright, contrasting colors. And the red splotches against white armor has you stopping dead in your tracks, because within the span of two seconds, a cold clarity settles within your stomach, because the red and white armor is distinctly and unmistakably that of a Coruscant Guard member, the visor of his helmet tilted, looking no doubt with suspicion directly at you.

Resisting the urge to bemoan the shortage of orientation and mobility droids designed to assist with transitions like this—which would have ensured that you would have been able to smoothly get yourself out of this situation in the first place—you bring your guide dog to heel before gesturing for her to sit, then slowly and hesitantly raise your eyes to the trooper, already feeling a mix of anxiety and guilt stirring in the pit of your stomach.

There’s a small sound from his helmet, a hesitation as he seems to clear his throat before speaking.

“Personal Senatorial aides aren’t permitted to use this entrance,” he says, gesturing to the badge on the lanyard that hangs around your neck.

He speaks as if this is a reminder that he’s given more than once, which you’re sure he has. Still, there’s an underlying sharpness to it that makes you jump despite your efforts not to react.

“I, I know,” you say, swallowing before rushing to continue. “I didn’t mean to be dropped off here, sir. I took a Speedershare to get here this morning, and I didn’t realize the driver dropped me off at this entrance until I got out, and by that point it was too late, and I should have asked to verify which one he was going to but—”

“Hey, easy. Slow down.”

The trooper steps closer to you, and it’s only then that you register that you’ve been rambling, your anxiety ratcheting up with each word. Now that you’re silent, you can feel the way your heart is pounding. You’ve seen the Guard around, of course, but you’ve never really interacted with any of them. He’s tall, you realize as he stands in front of you and you look up into the visor of his helmet. Tall and broad, and you were already nervous before he showed up.

But his hands are raised, in supplication or as an offering of peace, you’re not sure. But regardless, he doesn’t seem on the verge of scolding you further for your silly mistake, which is good, because your nerves are still so frayed from getting out of your ride only to realize that you had no idea where you were, and that apart from knowing that you were somewhere at the Senate building, you were effectively lost and alone. A scolding, delivered with just the right amount of displeasure, would probably be enough to make you start crying, which would make this day go from being the worst to certifiably irredeemable.

“Speedershare isn’t always the most reliable service. Your employer is Senator Organa,” he says, eyes once again scanning over your badge. “I’m sure he could arrange an alternate transportation service that is much more consistent and professional for you to use.”

“I don’t want his charity,” you say, and you can’t help the hard edge that creeps into your voice when you speak.

But really, you don’t. You know that he could, and knowing Senator Organa, he would be happy to do so. But it’s unnecessary. You grew up needing extra accommodations and things that, despite your teachers’ constant stream of reassurances, always made you feel singled out.

You’re an adult now, and you don’t want that. You don’t need his charity, his pity, or to be added to his ever-growing list of things to worry about at the beginning and end of each day—an item to be checked off.

As far as you’re concerned, the best thing you can do for the both of you is to keep this to yourself, and you’ll figure out how to manage sooner or later.

Fox takes a step back, able to recognize your quick deflection of his suggestion as a sign that he’s slightly overstepped, and he nods, glancing towards the door.

“Well,” he says, forcing his voice to sound lighter. “I suppose I could let you off the hook this once and let you use this entrance.”

“Thank you,” you say, before hesitantly adding, “I, I’m not familiar with the route to get to Senator Organa’s office from where we are. Would you, I mean, you don’t have to if you’re busy, but—”

“I’ll take you there,” he cuts you off, finality in his voice. “Do you, uh, need a guide or anything?”

Fox internally kicks himself for not knowing how to handle a situation like this, but you give your head a small shake, which allows him a moment of relief.

“The color on your armor is bright,” you respond, and for the first time in this interaction, you smile. He can’t help but admire the way it seems to transform you, your previous nerves and worry disappearing like the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s quite lovely, he observes, and then internally kicks himself just a bit harder as punishment for that traitorous thought.

Useless, he scolds. Unnecessary. But it’s already been thought, and he can’t take it back. He’s grateful for the helmet concealing his face, hiding the way his lips repeatedly twitch in an effort to turn upward as he hears you, your voice giving a soft, encouraging command, and the slight pitter patter of paws against pavement as your guide dog leads you to follow after him.

He firmly resolves not to speak unless necessary until he’s taken you to the senator's office.

This resolve lasts for less than two minutes before he feels the slight brush of a wet nose against his hand and hears a small sniffing sound at his hip. Turning his head, he finds your guide dog, who has stopped walking and is sniffing at a pouch around his waist, and you looking sheepish as you stand behind him.

“Mandalore, leave it,” you scold, your voice lower than he’s heard it and with a suddenly authoritative edge that has his eyes widening slightly. You’re so little, he thinks, and all you’ve ever been whilst interacting with him is timid and quiet like a mouse. Seeing that side of you, as if flipped on by a switch, well...he can’t help but be taken by slight surprise. You pull back the harness, giving it a slight shake and the dog, with obvious reluctance, backs off, abandoning its curiosity.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, your cheeks heating with a blush. His hand twitches of its own accord, struck with an unexplained urge to reach out and touch, wondering if he would feel the warmth of your cheek beneath his gloved fingers.

Kriff, his internal monologue groans, disgusted. What the fuck is wrong with you today? He refocuses, looking down at you and shaking his head.

“Your dog’s name is Mandalore?” he asks, genuinely curious and unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

You laugh, nodding your head. “The one and only,” you grin. “Certain training schools do things differently. But the one we went to likes to name each litter by theme, and hers happened to be planets.”

You lower your voice, leaning in conspiratorially with a slight twinkle in your eye.

“You know, for a Mandalore, she doesn’t look very intimidating, does she?” you ask, and he’s surprised, startled even, to hear the snort of laughter that is pulled from him as he nods his head, looking down at the guide dog who’s unaffected, her professional mask barely concealed behind a tail that wags at him and big, pleading eyes that seem to pierce through his soul.

“No, she really doesn’t,” he agrees, and your grin widens.

“I’ve always joked that if a burglar broke into my house, she wouldn’t bark or growl or try to bite at them,” you say, still smiling as you continue to walk. “She would simply flop down on the ground at their feet and roll over to demand a belly rub.”

“Well…” he says, and faintly, in the back of his head, he registers that he’s

actually smiling. Huh, he thinks, taken slightly off-guard by the strange feeling. He can’t remember the last time that’s happened. It’s almost slightly disturbing. “If she’s not a fighter, she at least has some good distraction tactics.”

You laugh, your previous nerves surrounding getting lost and being late all but forgotten. It’s a nice sound, bright and lively, and Fox, the Maker help him, finds that he wants to hear it again.

“She probably smells the treats I keep in my pouch for Grizzer,” Fox explains, slightly rueful. He rolls his eyes and pretends to dislike it every time Hound brings the massiff to his office, citing that his panting is distracting, and that his drool gets everywhere, which is disgusting. Those things are both true. But Fox also can’t help but appreciate the warm weight of Grizzer’s head against his leg or the large, imploring eyes the massiff gives him when he knows that Fox has food.

“I figured it would be unprofessional of me to offer one to her,” he continues, and you nod your head, glancing down.

“It would, but...” you begin slowly, calculating as you clock the staircase you’re approaching and turning your head to look up at him as a slow smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “If you give it to me, I could give it to her by proxy if you want.”

He nods, unzipping the small pouch, guiding you to hold out your hand as he places several small treats on the palm of it, which already has the dog vibrating with eagerness. But you don’t give in right away.

“Forward,” you say, gesturing your head to the small set of stairs. The added incentive makes the dog quick on her feet, and you have to tell her to slow down as she rushes to comply, guiding you towards the stairs, barely able to contain the excited trot in her step. “Okay, Mandalore, show me where the railing is.”

The guide dog turns slightly, changing course to lead you towards the railing on the far right, placing her front paws up on the stairs and pausing, turning her head to look up at you for approval.

“Yes,” you beam, stroking a hand along her head. “You learn so fast. Good girl.”

Fox watches, a smile on his face as you hold out your hand with the treats, giving it a few taps against the railing before opening your palm, offering it to her. She eagerly gobbles them up without hesitation, her tail never ceasing its happy little wiggles, which makes Fox want to laugh.

“You know,” he says, stepping up beside you and beginning to mount the stairs. “On second thought, maybe she is a fighter. I mean, she looked like she was ready to take off your fingers along with the treats.”

“When it comes to food, she definitely is,” you say with a grin, following after him. “If only all burglars came covered in peanut butter or dog treats, I’d feel much safer about our odds.”

You both snicker, and the rest of the journey up to the senators’ offices passes in a relatively comfortable silence apart from Fox giving you a few quiet directions as you make your way through the halls. You never fail to turn your head and smile at him each time he warns you of a crowd of people incoming so you can maybe take a step to the side, or if you need to turn left or right at this next intersection.

He isn’t sure how to describe it, but his heart does something strange each time you do.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience...” you trail off, uncertain of the trooper’s name as you stand outside the doorway to Senator Organa’s office.

“Fox,” he responds, and he’s quickly struck by the strangeness of how he felt compelled to give you his chosen name first instead of his rank. That, he thinks, is definitely odd and out of the ordinary, but he recovers himself quickly. “Commander Fox,” he adds, and your cheeks rapidly heat with a blush.

“Oh, Force,” you groan, covering your cheeks with your hands and closing your eyes, mortified. “I’m sorry, Commander. I didn’t mean to inconvenience so much of your time.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, and the brush of gloved fingers against your arm is barely there, brief and gone in an instant, but it’s enough to startle you out of your embarrassment, your eyes widening as you look up at him. “It wasn’t an inconvenience,” he says, sounding so sincere that you lose any ability to respond to that, falling into a silence in which the both of you simply stand, contemplating each other.

Fox, for his part, is struck by the realization that, for once, he means every word he’s just said.

“Well,” you say, blinking as you try to shake yourself out of your stupor. “Regardless of the circumstances, it was lovely to meet you, Commander, and if we ever encounter each other again, you may want to introduce yourself by name if we speak. Every trooper shares the same voice, which makes it much harder for me to differentiate between you all, and I’d hate to mistake you for someone else and embarrass the both of us any further. At least, more than I probably already have.”

“Right,” he says, equally as slowly and strangely hesitant for this conversation to end but not knowing what else to add. “Understood.”

“I should go,” you say, feeling suddenly shy as you give him a small smile and turn to the door. “See you around, Commander,” you murmur, giving him a playful wink.

You step into the office, not waiting for his response. It takes him a full 30 seconds of just standing there out in the hall listening to the sound of dog paws tapping against the floor, growing distant as you move out of his listening range, to realize that you left him—completely and deliberately if the smirk that was pulling at the corners of your lips was any indication—with a blind joke.

He chokes, uncertain of if he’s allowed to laugh—of if it would be completely inappropriate for him to laugh. His cheeks heat with belated awkward embarrassment. He shakes his head, making a note as he forces his feet to move and forces himself to walk away, heading back in the direction of his office.

The next time he sees you—and he can’t help the strange and foreign hope that twinges in his chest at even the thought of seeing you again—he’ll have to ask you.

Until then, he thinks, giving himself a firm shake as he maneuvers himself through the halls of the Senate building. He resolves to keep you—the girl with the pretty smile, the hair that looks like it was made to run fingers through, and the infectious laugh that he still hears clear as a bell even now that you’re gone—far from his thoughts, ordering himself to stop acting like some sort of lovesick puppy and for kriff sake to just get back to work.

Fox, to his consternation, is unsuccessful.

The whole day, as he goes about his tasks—filling out reports, sending requisitions to the Senate, doing patrol—he can’t stop thinking about you.

Your smile as you tilted your head to look up at him, your warm, encouraging demeanor as you worked with your guide dog, the excitable pup looking up at you like you’re her whole galaxy, the way that he had been able to make you genuinely laugh...

Okay, maybe his bar for sharing friendly interactions with natborns was insanely low up to this point. But knowing that he had brought that out of you had felt strangely good, leaving a warm, unfamiliar feeling in his stomach that lingered every time he thought of it.

He’s so unsuccessful at keeping his mind off of you during the workday that it’s still early in the afternoon when he pulls up your file on the database, scrolls through your work schedule, and at the end of the day is standing outside of Senator Organa’s office waiting for your shift to end.

When he sees you come out, Mandalore, sensing his presence before you do, happily begins to waggle her tail, her footsteps quickening as she leads you out of the office. He calls out to you, and you turn, searching for the voice.

“It’s Fox,” he says, removing his helmet and tucking it beneath his arm. “From this morning.”

Is he imagining it, or do your eyes actually light up when you spot him?

“I just wanted to make sure that your ride picks you up without complication,” he continues. “Not that I don’t think you can do that on your own,” he rushes to add, his cheeks heating slightly. He’s already gotten the sense that you don’t like being underestimated, and he respects that. “I can make sure that you have detailed instructions in the app so that your driver knows exactly which entrance to collect you.”

“That would actually be super helpful!” you exclaim, and there’s no masking the relief in your voice as you pull out your comm, fiddling with it for a second before passing it to him. “I’ve been meaning to ask someone to update them, because I have a vague idea of what each entrance looks like and how to describe them, but honestly, I don’t think it’s enough to be helpful.”

He takes the device from you, and working quickly, types up detailed directions on how to get to the staff entrance along with a description of its surroundings. He pastes a copy into your notes for good measure so that you’re able to keep reusing it at your convenience. He explains all this to you as he passes it back, letting you know your ride is booked.

“You’re an angel, Fox,” you say in a relieved breath, beaming up at him. “Moving here has been so stressful as it is, and getting used to the transit options is just one more thing on top of that.”

You miss the way his cheeks go pink, but you do catch his quiet, breathy chuckle as he awkwardly avoids your gaze.

“Right, well,” he scratches at the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. “Your ride should be here soon. Want me to come with you and make sure it shows up?”

“I don’t want to hold you up if you have other things to do,” you say uncertainly, biting your lip.

The truth is, you so badly want to say yes. Waiting for a Speedershare on your own can be anxiety inducing. So many things can go wrong. Your driver might not be able to find you, and when they call and ask you for directions, you aren’t able to provide them with much help. They could drive past and cancel altogether once they realize you have a service dog. Or worse, they can turn it into a full out yelling confrontation. In all cases, you’ve learned, your anxiety is significantly lessened if someone else is with you, ready to back you up at a moment's notice.

It’s true, you’ve only met Fox today. But his presence is steady, safe, and you get the sense that he would stay without question and without hesitation. But you also don’t want to become his burden.

“You’re not,” he states, hooking his helmet to his belt. “And I’m not. Come on, let’s go find your ride.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

He leads you out towards the pick-up point, and when the speeder gets there, he verifies the plates, opens the door, and helps you inside, waiting patiently for your guide dog to tuck in her tail before beginning to let it close. Before it does though, before it drives away and you’re left wondering if and when you’ll ever see him again, he speaks, his voice low and carrying the softest, lightest undertone of teasing.

“See you around, mesh’la.”

It takes you a moment, but as you drive off, the echo of the words you had jokingly thrown over your shoulder at him just this morning flashes through your memory, and before you know it, you’re tipping your head back against the headrest of the seat, quietly laughing to yourself, uncaring of the driver giving you a funny look from the corner of his eye as he picks up speed, driving away from the Senate building.

You’re still smiling as the speeder rounds the corner, and the building, as well as Marshall Commander Fox, disappears from view.

If you like and enjoy this story, please consider dropping a reblog, as you might help someone else find something they enjoy just as much. Thank you :-) and thank you to @strangergraphics-archive for such cute puppy dividers

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