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misshugs · 1 year ago

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The Cameragirl || snc

You've been Sam and Colby's cameragirl for some time now. Usually, nothing too crazy happened to you in most investigations, but this time...

warnings: paranormal activity, reader getting attacked, near death experience, strangling(?), cursing, angst?

a/n: took a bit of inspo after watching the boys' video of the asylum, but nothing exactly like it. just the fact that the place is an asylum

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

word count: 3.6k

[u n e d i t e d]

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As they were making their iconic intro and explaining what this new place was about, you made sure to have a sturdy pulse whilst filming them.

"Today, it's just me, Sam and our lovely cameragirl, Y/n." Colby said, letting you shift the camera towards your face and smile at it.

"Hello there." You said, making sure your face was extremely close to the camera, merely because it has become your way of introducing yourself.

"And since it's only us today like the good old days, we decided to make something fun. ALL of us." Sam explained to the camera and smirked, looking directly at you.

You batted your eyes, looking at them while they kept on smiling menancingly at you. "This wasn't a part of the contract." You said, gaining a laugh from both of them.

You zoomed onto his face and began talking with this soft, almost narrative voice. A voice you very well knew they enjoyed. "What is this oh so fun idea you seem to be hyping about, mr. Golbach?"

"Why thank you for asking." Sam nodded slightly, moving his attention towards the camera. "The three of us are gonna do a little challenge tonight." He clapped his hands together as you began unzooming the camera, putting Colby back on frame.

"That's right, we're going to walk alone, lights out throughout some of the most haunted corridors from this place." Colby continued. "The owners of this place told us it gets freaky when people are alone, so we thought this might get us some good activity."

"We have some cameras with nightvision but we're not gonna see shit." Sam added, "After a while, we all should find our way back to the main lobby."

"So stay until the end to see how that's gonna turn out." Colby says, getting close to the camera before covering it with his hand, making you stop the recording for the cut.

"That was pretty good." You said, looking at the video slightly.

"You're still good with the challenge, right?" Sam asked, looking at you. You scoffed.

"Please. I wouldn't have come if I wasn't sure about it. Remember you told me about it before the video?"

"I know, I know. Just making sure, you know how I am." He laughs. "Wouldn't want you to do something you're not comfortable with."

"You're saying that like we haven't known eachother for how long?"

He chuckles. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Alright, so since we're all settled, should we start right away?" Colby chimed in, looking at both of you.

"Not yet. This place has some good cinematic potential, lemme cook first." You said, looking around with your flashlight.

"Aight, we'll let you do your thing, I'll go ahead and look for the equipment." Colby said.

"Oh, shoot. I forgot to ask the owners about something." Sam said, taking out his phone.

"Go out with Colby, I'll be here waiting." You said, fixing back your camera to start recording.

"Alone?" They both asked, looking at eachother and then at you.

"I do my best work alone, gentlemen. You know that." You begin walking towards the shadiest corridor you've seen in your life, without even looking back.

"Oh wow. Fearless. She's trying to do the challenge before us." Colby laughed.

"Alright, I'll be super quick. If anything happens, just yell. As loud as you can." Sam said, smiling.

"Copy that." You laughed.

In the blink of an eye, you were left alone. You were used to these type of things, so it didn't bother you much. You've somehow become numb to all of this paranormal adventuring.

And that was one of the main reasons why you liked to take control of the camera, since you were able to keep your cool in stressful situations, making it easier for the viewers later on.

Plus, you didn't know how to act on camera and they were the professionals... allegedly.

Whenever something odd happened, you made sure to try and record as much as you could, in the best angles possible. You liked to joke around and call yourself a professional in your craft, although sometimes it wasn't even a joke.

You were passionate about it. The videos and the ghosts, it was only natural to try and do more, risk yourself to do something more interesting and outgoing.

That's a piece of yourself they loved about you. You were simply a perfect match in their combo.

As you began to do your cinematic, you began to have shivers. A sudden draft of air passing through you, as if a window suddenly opened.

Looking around, there was no possible way of that happening. You were in the middle of the corridor, absolutely no chance of an air draft simply passing through so randomly.

You thought it might've been a bit odd, but nothing you haven't felt before anyways. While you kept on making some videos, an eerie feeling of someone watching crossed over your spine.

The sensation of a presence slowly getting closer to you behind your back.

Almost feeling the heat of another person behind you, towering over you.

Hurriedly looking back, you were met with Sam's hand almost touching your shoulder. He stopped midway, knowing he got caught trying to scare you. "You bitch." You spit out, making him laugh.

"Damn it!" He said mid laugher. "I was so quiet this time, how do you always seem to know?"

"I can feel you lurking closer, you stalker." You looked away from his gaze, trying to ignore the thoughts of his pretty face. You began walking back to where he came from, meeting Colby in the process.

"I'm not a stalker, if anything, I'm protecting."

"Quietly from the shadows, sounds like a stalker to me, but you do you." You smiled softly, looking at the confused Colby.

"I left for a second, what did I miss?"

"Stalker behavior, nothing else." You said, putting your camera up again and ready to record.

Colby shook his head from side to side, already being on your side of the story without even asking further questions. "I can't believe you brother."

"Wha- it wasn't-..." Sam sighed, defeated. He knew you were joking, so he wasn't going to win anyways.

You laughed and pointed the camera at them. "Ready when you are." They nodded and you began to record.

"So as you can see, in our hands we have some devices that we'll scatter throughout this first room. If you've been here before, you'll probably be familiar, but if you haven't, these are basically some motion censor devices that will let us know if something walks infront of it." Colby explained, turning one of the devices on and showing to the camera how it worked.

As they organized everything, the REM-POD immediately began beeping. "Oh, shit. That's the rem pod." Sam said, stopping on its tracks. "That was the temperature dropping."

You made sure the camera caught that as you got closer to it. "Oh fuck. I was feeling a bit cold since we got here." Colby added. "Alright. I think we're ready."

"Okay. If there's any spirit around that would like to communicate with us, we would like for you to use any of these devices we've put up for you." Sam started, as you made sure to get far enough from everything for the shot.

"You can touch these lights on the floor, or maybe this device I have on my hand." Colby continued, pointing towards the EMF reader. "We mean no harm, we'd just like to talk to someone."

A couple of seconds passed, looking around, waiting for something to happen.

"Maybe they don't want..." Sam began, before getting interrupted by the REM-POD beeping, making you hurriedly move your camera angle. "Oop. Nevermind. Thank you very much. Can you do that again if you're here with us? To let us know it wasn't something else?"

Silence filled the room for a while, before the device started to beep once again.

Excited, they began asking questions to this entity, expecting for it to be somewhat intelligent enough to give answers back.

Luckily, it was. It seemed to be someone that died inside the asylum, a woman. Curious about the story of this woman, they kept on asking questions. Some of them being answered, others being completely ignored.

Asides from the constant beep from their device, you heard a knock coming from one of the corridors. Quickly looking around, they stopped talking. "What?" Colby asked.

"Heard something." You whispered. The room went silent, followed by what sounded like footsteps getting closer. You turn the camera back at them and their faces were shocked.

"Holy fuck." Sam whispered.

"That was like... thumps. We're the only ones here, right?" Colby asked him.

"Yeah, we're supposed to be." Sam says, walking towards the place they heard the sound, quietly. You followed close behind. "Hello?"

Nothing. They kept on looking around, searching and at the same time waiting for something else to happen. "There's no one here." Colby says. "But that was clear as day."

"Super clear, the camera must've have heard that, for sure." Sam said, looking at you as you nodded. "That was crazy."

"Yeah, let's try something else but closer to this area, maybe it's more active." Colby said, and all of you nodded.

A couple of minutes later, and you were all set up. This time around, they turned on a spirit box to try and communicate better.

The idea was to first use it as normal, then for Colby to do the Estes Method.

And so, the spirits began to talk.

"What's this." It spat out. Colby and Sam looked at eachother, smiling.

"Hello, this is a spirit box, you can use it to communicate with us. Would you mind telling us who you are?" Sam said, looking around.

"Hello?"

"Hi, hello." Colby responded. "Who are we talking to."

"I'm scared."

"Scared? Scared of what?" Colby asked, furrowing his eyebrows whilst looking at the camera.

"Behind you."

They quickly looked behind them. "Oh, fuck. I hate that." Colby said, as you smiled at their gestures.

It quickly faded away when you felt the familiar presence of someone behind you.

Heart racing, you looked around for a second, but there was nothing there. It didn't mean the feeling went away, though.

"Monster. Care..." It seemed the audio cut before finishing the whole word.

"Monster... care?" Sam asked, confused.

"Or maybe it meant careful? Like, careful of the monster?" Colby questioned.

"It would make sense. What monster are you talking about? Is it harming you? Are you scared of this monster... or... person?"

It took a while before responding. Last thing it said, before a screech filled the radio was... "Run."

Quickly, they turned it off. They looked at eachother. "That was terrifying." Colby said. Sam nodded and sighed.

"Let's try and look around for some other place. This doesn't feel safe." Sam said and everyone agreed.

For the past hour of recording, moving around and joking here and there, you felt a bit uncomfortable. Usually, you weren't the type to get scared over the paranormal, but this place felt more eerie than usual.

You heartbeat has been increasing slowly, as well as a slight pain in your chest that quickly faded. You felt watched.

There was a point where you even felt slightly touched, quickly warning the boys about it.

Due to this, they almost discarted the idea completely, thinking you might be getting targeted, scared that it might do something to you. It took you a couple of minutes of convincing them to keep on recording before the conversation was dismissed.

You tried to brush it all off, as 'something you've felt before', but deep down you were really anxious about it. Perhaps it made you feel better to think about it being just the nerves.

But you weren't the type of person to feel these nerves for no reason.

"Hey, you good?" Colby touched your shoulder and whispered to you, noticing you seemed a bit weird. "You seem out of it today."

"Yeah, I'm good. I was just zoning out."

"Yeah, I noticed." He chuckled, looking into your eyes. "You sure you're okay though?" He raised an eyebrow, seemingly concerned. "You don't look well."

"What? Do I look like a ghost to you?" You asked, smiling, which quickly made him show that gorgeous smile you loved.

"More like you've seen one." You shook your head.

"I'm fine. I've just seen some shadows running in the corners of my eye, but nothing too big to point out."

He batted his eyes. "You've what?"

"Calm down, you know I see those things all the time. It's nothing new." Half of it was true. The other half, well... there was a chance you might've seen a whole figure standing close to a doorframe, but you felt your imagination was tricking you too much tonight, so you didn't say anything.

You weren't a psychic or a medium or something close to it anyways. If anything, you'd probably consider it more like a hallucination due to the constant lack of sleep you've been having lately.

"I know, I know, but still. You could tell us about it, you know? Maybe we all see the same thing you do and since you don't point it out, we don't notice."

You rolled your eyes playfully. You were about to say something, but a breeze passed through your ear, a soft whisper saying "Come play."

You jumped, covering your ear and walking closer to Colby. "Shit." You whispered.

Confused, he held your shoulders. "What? What? You heard something?" His worry was enough for Sam to stop setting the cameras up and walk closer.

"What happened?" He asked. You looked around where you were standing.

"Did you guys not hear that?" You asked, the shook their heads. "I heard something like... right next to me." When you said that, Sam began recording once again.

"Alright, so... apparently Y/n just heard something right next to her." He began explaining to the camera, pointing it at you.

"It was like a whisper, it.. uh... it just said 'come play', like, the creepiest shit you can say. I even felt the air on my ear, that shit made me jump." You tried laughing about it to not let the mood down, but it wasn't working much.

"Although I really want to, maybe we shouldn't do the challenge." Colby said, looking at Sam straight in the eyes, genuinely worried.

"Guys. Come on. Don't back down when we're this close." You said. "We're basically done for tonight, this is the last thing we're doing and we're out, right?"

"...yeah." Sam whispered. "Let's..." He sighed. "Let's do it. Just like she said, we walk through the corridor and come back straight away."

Althought skeptical, Colby nodded. "Fine. Let's hurry up then. The quicker we begin, the quicker we're leaving this place."

And so, everyone held their cameras and said their goodbyes. The three of you went through your respective corridors and began walking, alone, with no light.

"Alright guys. I'm not good at, like, talking to the camera but I'll try." You sighed, pointing the camera at your face while slowly walking the dark corridor.

"Honestly? I'm usually not as creeped out when we come to places like this, but this one is like... up there. It's giving me the chills, making me paranoid, I feel like I'm... seeing thing. Or maybe I'm just sleep deprived. That's... that's also an option now that I think about it."

Looking around with the camera, although it's absolutely useless, you started feeling out of breath. Almost as if the air didn't reach your lungs anymore. "It feels... hard to breathe." You took a deep inhale and shakily exhaled.

You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling dry as the lack of oxygen was evident.

"I'm just gonna walk... faster. I wanna get this over with..." And so, you did. But the further away you got, the worse it all felt. You felt your vision starting to get blurry although you could barely see anything.

You paused as your vision began to get used to the darkness.

At the end of the corridor, what you could shape out like a human figure was standing there. Seemingly the same one you barely saw before.

This time, it didn't seem to go away.

You were also alone.

Unable to breathe.

You don't know when it started, but you were unable to breathe properly. You choked, trying to regain yourself from the feeling.

Your neck feeling tight, your stomach hurting at the sudden feeling.

Putting your hands on your neck, you coulnd't feel anything that would make you feel this way. You started to get worried.

You felt as if you were being choked. You tried to scream, but all that you could spat out from your lips was a soft, quiet, 'help'.

Trying to turn around and walk back, you saw the figure again and got scared, falling towards the floor. You coughed for air, sucking back as much as you could but being unable to.

Leaving the camera behind, you tried to crawl back to where you came from, but the lack of circulation on your body failed you as you coulnd't handle it anymore.

Your body falling on the floor, the camera seemingly recording your movements come to a halt.

Your eyes closing, leaving you unconscious.

It didn't take long before Sam and Colby got back to the lobby. Waiting for you, something seemed off.

They knew the corridor wasn't as long as theirs. You should've been the first one out by that logic. They've been waiting long enough and they were starting to get worried.

Even though the concept of the challenge was to be alone in the darkness, the idea of you being in trouble was too much to bare.

Heck, even if you were pranking them, the anxiety of you not coming back on time was driving them insane, they were ready for a scare if it had to come to that.

But the scare they were expecting wasn't the one they got.

Minutes of walking and calling out your name came to a stop when they saw you on the floor.

Hurriedly, they ran towards you and fell to the floor, yelling out your name. "This isn't funny, Y/n!" Sam yelled, moving your body, only to notice how cold you felt. His heart sank.

"Y/n, come on!" Colby said, putting himself on the other side, looking at Sam. The color from his face was gone when he felt her body. Colby, worried, touched your body and understood why he looked that way. "Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

Throwing the camera to the side, Colby quickly checked your pulse. "Sam. Call 911. This is serious." You still had a pulse, but you weren't breathing. First thing that came to his mind was CPR.

While Sam began to call, Colby was trying as hard as he could to help out. He began doing mouth to mouth, trying to bring some oxygen back to your lungs.

Tears streaming down both of their faces. Colby started making compressions to your chest, while Sam was talking to the 911 dispatcher and using the flashlight to illuminate Colby.

Luckily, they weren't too late. You began to cough and moved to the side to spit out some saliva. You breathed heavily and both of the guys sighed in relief.

As you tried to catch your breath, they softly held you up in place while your color came back to you. You blinked a couple of times, adjusting your view to your surroundings.

When you looked at them, they hugged you tight. "Fuck..." Sam whispered. "Let's get the fuck out of here right now." He held you softly and helped you out, as Colby grabbed all of the cameras.

It was hard for you to walk. It felt as if a ton of weight was keeping you from even standing up. It felt as if your limbs went numb, the lack of oxygen probably acting up.

Sam noticed, and didn't hesitate on holding you up and putting you on his back so that you could rest. They began walking as fast as they could, reassuring you that you will be fine.

You were focused on getting your breath back while listening to them scream at the spirits.

"You are not allowed to follow us home." Listening to Colby talk like this, while taking all of the equipment made you feel light. You started moving your arms and made sure to hold onto Sam, closing your eyes.

"You'll be okay. We're leaving." Sam reassured you, waiting for Colby to grab everything and get out of there in a rush.

After the police arrived and handed you an oxygen mask, you started feeling much better. You had some marks on your neck, like some hands were just squishing the air out of you.

Your body... at first, you could even see your veins pop out of your legs because of your lack of color. The poor circulation that ran through your body for a couple of minutes really drove your body to its limit somehow.

It took you a while to be able to stand on your two feet again, but before the police left you could walk on your own just fine. Sam and Colby however still managed to help you out.

"Let's head back home." Sam whispered to you. You nodded slightly and tried to walk on your own, only to be held up by Colby.

"Don't force yourself right now. You need some rest." He said, taking you back to the car. Your face having a rush of blood because of the gesture.

"I... I can walk."

"Let us do this. Please. It's too much already that you fainted right when we weren't with you." Sam said, looking at you, your heart racing at the look of his blue eyes upon you. You gulped.

"...f..fine." You said, resting your head on Colby's chest, making him smile.

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part two is up!! the link is in the beginning! <3

thanks for reading all the way! likes, comments and requests are much appreciated.

-nikkõ

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palskippah · 8 months ago

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Hi!

Thinking about the differences between both Goldenheart babies and the relationship with their fathers ajsdkas there's some other drawings under the cut :y

(love when artists make different fankids from the same ship interact ajsdk)

-Btw he/they pronouns for both fankids asjdkd

-Baby has beautiful dark eyes (got the eye-shape from Ambrosius and the 🥺 energy from Ballister) and Cyrus got 'stares into your soul' eyes (got the blue from Ambrosius, and the intense staring from Ballister)

-Also, see that Baby is taller than Ballister (like Movie Ambrosius is) and Cyrus is shorter than Ballister (like Comic Ambrosius is) waa

-Also, I've been thinking that maybe the 'Baby' nickname was given by Ambrosius, and that's why Cyrus doesn't have it, because his fathers hadn't been too close during the pregnancy, mainly because Ballister hadn't wanted them to be.

>Comic Ambrosius referred to him as Baby once and Ballister stopped that right away with 'his name is going to be Cyrus, don't call him Baby'.

>Movie Ambrosius called him Baby once, given the lack of a name from before they had even known that he was a boy, and it just stuck right away.

-Comic Cyrus' reaction is based over the phrase 'when I remember I'm my father's daughter' that I saw once in a meme 😭

>Ballister said it just as a passing thought, but it didn't leave Cyrus' mind for years.

>Also, he's been hearing stuff from both Nimona and Ballister since he was a little kid, and that really warped his perception on Ambrosius.

>(Y'know with like the smallest of comments made by an adult about someone else, it can stay forever?) Ballister had thrown some comments that he didn't think twice about, and didn't think that Cyrus would pay much mind at either, BUT THEY DID and yeah

>I find it so interesting how easy it is to plague a kid's mind with stuff, even if unintentionally 🧍 (also I love how that was used in the Nimona movie WA)

-And Movie Baby's reaction is when you're compared to someone you deeply admire ajsdaj

>After that, they'd occasionally think about his abba (the most trustworthy of sources) saying that they were a lot like Ambrosius.

-Random thought but Baby's love language is being an annoying little shit. He could pretend to box with Ballister when he's busy working on something (not interrupting him, mind you, he's a good son). Or be like 'daddy. daddy. daddy. daddy. Papa. Dad. Father. Progenitor-' while Ambrosius' like 'what? what? what. what. what do you want? what is it? One more and I'll smack you. I warned you (pretends to smack him)' and then Baby says I wanted to say I love you :C and Ambrosius' like oh, love you too son <3

-I drew this thing to see the differences between both asjdk it mostly being that in their movie version it was always teamwork, and in the comic version it was all Ballister (+ Nimona, but the point is that Ambrosius wasn't there to parent too) (thinking if that'd be because Ballister didn't want him around or what, I don't know🧍)

That's it! :D

#nimona #nimona comic #goldenheart #blackloin #goldenheart fankid #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #my art #i feel like- a mom or something telling a daughter/son that they're like the man they don't like or despise is very fucked up #bc sometimes the kid can't help it waaa #someone should uninvent that whole thing #*adds the bags under the eyes* yeah that's aging alright #😭😭 Movie Goldenheart is close to 30 when they have Baby and Comic Goldenheart is closer to forty.

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buntanteen · 10 months ago

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svt fic recs list <3 - yjh, hjs & lee chan - sfw ver.

reader insert fics!! though, lots of these are ot13 writings, i am specifically recommending the jeonghan, joshua and dino sections!

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

note: i haven't made a fic rec list since i was a teen lol. i'm gonna try do 13 recs per list (cuz that's how many members are in seventeen :3) i've added my mini thoughts and i'm going to add lil song recs too!! these lists are partially for me to look back on too :d

✩ yoon jeonghan ✩

❥ jeonghan boyfriends habits - @odxrilove

*sobs in cute lil domestic actions* shut up i LOVE having my hair played with and attention on me and physical touch that isn't necessarily affection and yapping and being playful ahhh

❥ bf!jeonghan headcanons - @etherealyoungk

this is exactllyyyy the kind of s/o i want raaaaaaaaaaaa. teasing, playful, sweetheart, pouty, mature and a listener. this made me smile soooo much

✩ hong joshua ✩

❥ joshua boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service* mORE hair touching??? are you trying to speak to my heart😭 shua really said "my handbag is your waist" (just one day by bts reference) with that last one*

❥ bf!joshua scenarios - @etherealyoungk

*punches wall in chef shua making reader breakfast* he's just such a sweetieeee. the intentional quality time is something i can sooo see him doing

✩ lee chan/dino ✩

❥ dino boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service pt.2* as a shy person, i love when my friends order for me (or when there's a qr code lol) i think i'd pass out if someone pulled me by the loop of my jeans kjfdbdfb

✩ ot13 works (yjh, hjs & lee chan sections) ✩

❥ seventeen as boyfriends - @catboyieejeno

super cute, lengthy and detailed for all members! i was swooning and giggling over each of them hehe~

jeonghan's bits of physical affection coupled with noise effects highkey make my heart soar idk whyyy

shua being a gentleman but bro i'll be one right back at you >:)) skincare nights??? as a skincare girly i would loveeee that ahhh

hAND HOLDING WITH CHANNIE GRRR. i love when people listen to me yap (my friend listened to me yap about svt today haha). i agree with that last bit about chan giving confidence and reassurance. he already does that for me as a fan, so it would be amplified by 990211x~

❥ seventeen when you reject their kiss (as a prank) - @emocheol

hannie was such a little shit. of cOURSE he'd be dramatic and do a 180 on the situation so reader is being pranked

shua's reaction was so hot. it was a mature approach to the situation and my brain started barking kjgbkfa

chan's killed me. this poor kid is trying his best jgfdkb

additionally, hoshi and jihoon's made me tear up a bit :,) they're so precious to me

❥ sharing the bed with seventeen - @emocheol

jeonghan. let. me. spoon. you >:((( (i just wanna cuddle him)

cackled at the absurdity of joshua's with full acknowledgement that him reading to me would make me fall asleep lmao

oh no...dino...we'd both kick each other off the bed

❥ matchy-matchy with seventeen - @lovingseventeen

wanna play with jeonghan's hair so baddd. i used to do my and my friend's hair so much as a kid

i don't really wear rings, BUT FOR SHUA I CAN TRY!! (kinda want a ring like svt does in honour of them?! idk tho)

chan and i are gonna pull up in comfy matching set fits yeahhhh

❥ you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face - @gi4hao

getting lipstick stains back from hannie?? fuck yeahhh

flirty shua *blushes and kicks blanket*

damn, dino sounds like he's in heavennnn (he's soooo down bad lmao)

❥ things they left with you before leaving for tour - @seuonji

jeonghan being thorough and specific and intentional with his shirt choices

joshie writing letters arghhhhh. as someone who loves to write letters to friends (via text or on physical cards) this really speaks to my heart

channie's is sooo fucking thoughtful and i freaking love snacks and quality time at a distance is difficult so i love this ahhh

❥ svt when they’re clingy - @gyuslcve

jeonghan's AHHH. how am i supposed to say no to himmm🥺🥺

shua...hE'S SO SOFTTTT HNGHHGHG. back hugs are so niceee ahhh

spooning? forehead kisses? hand holding?!!?! with dino?!?! yess pls :,)

❥ hyper/calm dynamics - @cxffecoupx

calm reader, calm jeonghan. low energy us just chillingg

all of the above reader & shua. fuck yeah. i tend to adapt my energy to the situation, so chaos can unleash whenever heh :3

hyper reader, calm chan. i will look at him with equal parts embarrassment and endearment haha

additionally: i would hype the shit out of hoshi. no one would never handle us grrrrr ఇ◝‿◜ఇ

mini message from me: thank you for reading!! stay cool or warm wherever you're at!! take care of yourselves and treat yourselves to something yummyyyy~ ς(.>‿<)

bun song recs: serendipity by bts (jimin), heaven by rm, same dream same mind same night by seventeen (vocal unit), yes or no by jungkook & our summer by txt

taglist: no one yet, but if y'all would like to be on it, pls comment :))

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writinginatree · 5 months ago

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Candlelight, Roses and a Locked Door

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/female!Tavis!reader, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis, background Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: Garrick and Xaden are sick and tired of having to witness your and Bodhi's endless pining, so they hatch a plan to finally get the two of you together.

Warnings: Swearing, set during Iron Flame, Xaden's POV

Xaden has had enough. If he has to keep watching Bodhi and you dance around each other like lovesick puppies without actually acting on your feelings any longer, he'll lose what little patience he has left and smush both of your faces together like a kid playing with dolls. Maybe he should. Clearly this isn't getting anywhere without outside help, despite how glaringly obvious your and Bodhi's mutual attraction is to everyone else.

"That seems a little extreme," Violet notes, catching the thought through their mental connection. "Though I have to agree that they could use a little push in the right direction."

"Well, they're about to get a little push, all right," Xaden decides, giving her a conspirative little smile across the breakfast table as the beginnings of a plan take form in his head.

He'll have to get Garrick to help, too, and find an empty room to use. They'll do it today, he decides — it's the weekend, so you and Bodhi should have time, and it's not often that that's the case while him and Garrick are home and can say the same. No time to waste.

"What are you up to, exactly?" Violet wants to know.

"We're going to set them up on a date. Candlelight, rose petals, and a locked door."

"It's winter, Xaden. Where are we supposed to get roses from?"

Shit. He didn't consider that. Okay, strike the rose petals then. He'll think of something else.

"Maybe there's some flowers up in the valley we could use instead? There's no snow up there."

"Maybe," Violet agrees, "but, uh, what's with the 'locked door' part? You just want to lock them in a room together and hope that'll make them finally confess their feelings?"

"Well... basically, yes."

Xaden can sense that Violet is sceptical, and he has to admit that phrased like that, his plan doesn't sound all that good. It's the surrounding circumstances that will make it work — hopefully.

"Could you try and find some candles? I'll get Garrick, then we can go over the details of the plan together."

"Alright. I'll meet you in our room?"

"Yeah."

After breakfast, he pulls Garrick aside, giving no explanation as to what exactly it is he needs his best friend's help with. He doesn't want to explain his plan twice, or even mention what the goal is with others in earshot. Having you or Bodhi overhear it would ruin the whole thing, and it's not like anyone else needs to know that he's sticking his nose into things that technically aren't any of his business.

It's true that there's a whole pile of other things he could — and should — be doing. Tomorrow he and Garrick will leave for the front again — maybe not the worst thing, considering there's no telling how Bodhi and you will react if you do become aware of their meddling.

"We've got to do something about Bodhi and Y/N," he tells Garrick once they're safe behind the soundshield protecting his room. "It's getting ridiculous with them."

There's no need to elaborate — your brother is well aware of the situation, and certainly just as tired of watching it as Xaden is. When the four of you were kids, they used to joke about you and Bodhi being in love — the idea had seemed funny and vaguely embarrassing then, but it long since became obvious there was truth in those jokes. Now the constant pining is just annoying for everyone forced to witness it. As your closest friends, Xaden and Garrick are the main victims of this, but they're far from the only ones. Xaden is fairly sure that by now, every rider in Aretia has at least once wondered what the fuck the both of you are waiting for. Well, everyone, with the exception of those who believe you already are dating, of course. An outsider might easily make that assumption, but unfortunately, Xaden and Garrick know better.

The part that annoys Xaden the most is that he can't for the life of him figure out why neither of you is acknowledging your feelings for each other. He can't think of a single reason for it that would make sense, which, he supposes, means you and Bodhi simply are idiots forever waiting for the other to make the first move. But not much longer. Not on his watch.

"And what are we supposed to do about that?" Garricks asks.

"We're setting them up on a date," Xaden declares, just as Violet enters the room. She actually managed to find a couple of candles, triumphantly holding them up.

Garrick isn't convinced yet, though Xaden is sure he'll approve of his scheme once he's heard the details. "You think that'll help?"

"If that doesn't do the trick, they're a hopeless case for sure. I have a plan, okay? Just hear me out."

He starts laying out his plan, and by the end of his explanation, Garrick and Violet are both nodding.

"That might just work," his best friend agrees. "As long as they don't immediately see through it."

Xaden nods. "That's the tricky part. But unless you have any better ideas, we'll just have to go with this and hope for the best."

Neither of them does, so they decide to go through with Xaden's plan.

For maximum effect, the actual date will have to take place in the evening, but there's plenty of preparations to be made to kill the time. As the location, they decide to use an empty storage room in the basement — not the most romantic setting, admittedly, but private and inconspicuous, and, most importantly, with a good old sturdy lock on the door. After removing layers of dust and cobwebs, and setting up a small table with two chairs (they even found a tablecloth with cute lace edges that only faintly smells of smoke!) and decorating everything with the candles and what few flower petals they managed to find, Xaden would almost dare call the result cozy.

When everything is ready and the time for dinner is drawing near, they set out to put the plan into motion. Violet returns to the library and her work on Warrick's journal, but not before making Xaden promise to keep her updated on how it goes. He heads to Bodhi's room, while Garrick goes to get you.

"Xaden?"

"Come with me."

Used to Xaden's being in charge, Bodhi easily obliges. "What's going on?"

It's a good thing Bodhi is walking behind him, because Xaden can't help the grin spreading over his face. "You're going on a date with Y/N."

"Wait, what?" Bodhi sputters, steps faltering.

Xaden reaches back without looking and pulls him onward. "You heard me. Come on, you don't want to keep her waiting, do you?"

"I guess not? But— what do you mean, a date? Like— like a date date?"

"Obviously."

"Really? She wants a date with me? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Trust me."

It's not even a lie. Even if this date will be just as much a surprise for you as it is for Bodhi, Xaden is one hundred percent certain that you secretly dream of something like it — just as surely as Bodhi does, too.

Garrick is lingering in the basement hall when they get there, giving them a thumbs-up and a wink. Bodhi is still trying to get more information about his date, but Xaden ignores his questions, opens the door of the room you're already waiting in, and unceremoniously shoves his cousin inside.

Shutting the door, Xaden locks it twice. It's showtime.

"Did he just lock the door?" your voice reaches the hallway.

Wonderful — Xaden won't even need his signet to eavesdrop. Garrick is already standing by his side, ear pressed to the wood of the door so he won't miss a thing. They grin at each other. This should be fun.

"Sounded like it," Bodhi replies to you.

"What do we do if they try to get out now?" Garrick whispers.

"Why would they?"

"Maybe they don't want to be locked up in your basement?"

"They're on a date, Garrick, that's the only thing they care about right now. Besides, they have to know we'll let them back out eventually."

"Eventually, huh?"

"Yeah. Eventually."

"And if this doesn't go as planned? Are we just going to let them rot in there?"

Xaden shrugs, refusing to consider defeat. "In that case we'll just have to think of something else."

Even though they can hear everything being said inside just fine, Xaden uses his shadow signet to keep tabs on what's happening, too. Would be a shame if they missed any important developments like handholding or even a kiss just because they can't see what's happening.

"What are they doing?" Garrick whispers.

"Nothing interesting," Xaden whispers back. "They sat down and are starting to eat now."

It's silent for a moment, then you ask, "So, uh, you planned all this?"

Uh-oh. Not good.

"What? I thought you did?"

"Uh, no? Garrick said—"

You trail off, locking eyes with Bodhi as understanding dawns on both of your faces.

"They tricked us," you groan.

Well, shit. Xaden had known you'd figure it out eventually, but he'd hoped it wouldn't happen until after the date. Good thing they're prepared for all eventualities. This is where the locked door part of his plan comes in. Neither of you is getting out of that room until you've admitted your feelings for each other.

"But why?" Bodhi wonders aloud. "Just to mess with us? That doesn't really seem like them."

"Maybe they thought we need to relax? Which would be ironic, considering they're the ones constantly overworking themselves... But I can't think of any other reason."

"Yeah, me neither."

"You've got to be shitting me," Xaden mutters under his breath. How two normally smart and competent people can be so ridiculously oblivious when it comes to each other is beyond him. Will he have to walk in there and smush your faces together after all?

"No one can be that fucking stupid," Garrick whispers next to him, ear still pressed to the door. "No one. Maybe they've long gotten together and are just pretending they didn't to drive us insane."

"I wish, man. I wish."

Inside the room, Bodhi shrugs. "Well, since we're here already, we might as well just enjoy it, right?"

"Right."

"We don't have to call it a date, of course."

"Of course. I don't mind though."

Garrick elbows him in the side, grinning. Xaden grins back. It's not much, but it is a tiny step in the right direction at least.

The brief wave of optimism quickly fades again. Eavesdropping on his little cousin's first ever date is more boring than Xaden could have ever imagined. The both of you talk about mundane bullshit, throw longing looks across the table, and continue to not. make. a. fucking. move. Xaden could strangle the both of you for being so godsdamned reluctant. Maybe his plan wasn't straightforward enough. Maybe he should raise the shadows from under the table and use them to smush your faces together. But with how dense you guys are being, he's starting to think not even that would get the point across.

Well, the date isn't over yet, and until it is, Xaden refuses to think of his plan as a failure. He still has one more trick prepared, though he'd hoped they wouldn't have to rely on it.

A few more minutes pass as you finish eating; when you're done, Xaden's shadows bring out two fortune cookies he'd hidden on a shelf, and place them in the middle of the table. You both jump, clearly not having expected his interference and probably now wondering if he's been spying on the whole date. Oh well.

"Uhm. Okay," Bodhi laughs. "Thanks, Xay."

"Are they reading them?" Garrick whispers.

Xaden nods, impatiently waiting for any reaction. For a few very long seconds, there is none.

Then Bodhi finally breaks the silence. "What does yours say?"

"It— uhm—"

Apparently too flustered to read it out loud, you put the little strip of paper into the middle of the table for Bodhi to read. He places his own beside it, hand brushing yours in the process.

The text on both is identical. Xaden knows, because he came up with it himself. With a little help from Violet's friends, they'd manipulated the cookies to say: Open your eyes and you will find that the love you feel is returned (Please just kiss already!!).

Bodhi and you are staring at each other across the table, but are you seeing the love?

"Come on," Garrick mutters. "This has to work."

As if on cue, you finally find your voice, softly saying, "It says we should kiss."

Bodhi nods. "Then I guess we'd better do that, huh? We wouldn't want to provoke fortune."

"Yeah. Yeah, we'd better listen."

Thank fucking gods. It really took long enough, but finally Bodhi leans over the table, lips meeting yours. Xaden bumps Garrick's shoulder and nods toward the stairs. Their job here is done, and he doesn't want to be witness to whatever happens next.

"Mission complete," he thinks in Violet's direction. "Now how about we have some alone time of our own before I have to leave?"

#bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #bodhi durran #xaden riorson #female!reader #tavis!reader #marked!reader

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uramakimochi · 1 year ago

Text

my man my man my man my man🤤

WHERE YOU TRULY BELONG TO

Monkey D Luffy x Reader

Warnings: semi-long story i hope it doesn't bore you lol, fluff+little bit of angst, use of Y/n, fem!R who is a bit of a crybaby but everyone cries in this anime so idc. It should be an established relationship, but if it doesn't show it's because i believe that Luffy is not the kind of person that shows his love by openly saying "I love you" or calling you with petnames, i think he'd just do affectionate gestures that are completely normal for him.

This story is not canon, it has nothing to do with the anime/manga, but i took inspiration from the film Strong World. I'm sorry if this is shit, it actually took me a lot of time because i absolutely had no fantasy so i hope this came out at least decent lol. I invented the villain because yes and Y/n plays the part of the damsel in distress like Nami also because yes. I just like the stories where the hero saves the princess🤭

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

///

The Strawhats were traveling along the calm sea aboard the Sunny. Franky was at the helm while Brook played some sweet background music for the day, Nami was taking care of her orange trees, and Robin was reading a book on a lawn chair. Zoro was training alone, Usopp and Chopper were fishing from the edge of the ship, while Sanji had prepared some drinks to serve to everyone.

Finally, on the lion-shaped figurehead of the Sunny, Luffy was lying on his back, with his arms and legs open as if he were a starfish. You were sitting next to his body and while he had his eyes fixed on the blue sky, you alternated your gaze from the sea to his face, smiling. There wasn't a conversation between the two of you at the time, but that was okay. Although Luffy was one of the most extroverted and talkative people you knew, every now and then even those moments of comfortable silence accompanied you in your intimate moments. For both of them it was enough to be next to each other.

When you turned your head to look at the sea you realized the presence of an island on the horizon, which was getting closer and closer.

“Hey Luffy” you called.

"Mh?"

"I see an island over there. Shall we go and see or continue with our route?"

Luffy sat up, swaying forward. Then he made a thoughtful expression.

"Uhhh... Sounds like fun. I suggest we do some exploring!" He then exclaimed and you smiled, nodding.

So Luffy yelled at Franky to head towards the island and none of the crew protested.

After docking the Sunny, you all leaned out to see what lay before you, which was nothing more than an old abandoned town.

"It seems completely deserted..." Brook muttered.

"Look!" Chopper then exclaimed, pointing his hoof forward. "There's a palace up there!"

The road that ran through the abandoned city led to many flights of stairs that led to a traditional japanese palace built high up in the rocks, overlooking the small island.

"So? Who's going down to take a look?" Nami asked placing her hands on her hips, looking at you one by one. "I'm staying here"

"I-If Nami stays then i'm staying too!" Usopp stuttered with an uncertain smile. "We don't know if that town is truly abandoned. What if it's haunted? What if there are ghosts??"

"G-G-Ghosts?!" Chopper exclaimed in fear, then ran to hide behind Nami's legs. One could therefore guess that he too would remain on board.

"That's so cool!" Luffy then said with bright eyes, starting to jump on the spot. "I wanna see the ghosts!"

"If Luffy goes, i go too" Zoro said.

"I was about to offer to go too, but if there's that idiot of a swordsman then i'll stay here with my beloved Nami" Sanji then said with a grimace.

Zoro gritted his teeth, turning to look at him.

"So much the better, perv cook"

"Say it again if you dare, moss-head!"

While the two were busy bickering as usual, Robin raised a hand.

"I come willingly. In my opinion we can discover something interesting on this island"

"Robin can i come with you?" you continued, standing next to her and the woman smiled at you, nodding.

Don't get it wrong, you loved all of your crewmates, but the two people you had formed the closest relationship with were Luffy and Robin. Robin was like a big sister, almost a mother to you and you had grown very fond of her. From the moment you first joined the crew, she had always tried to make you feel comfortable (I'm sorry but i love her so much she's one of my comfort characters). Luffy on the other hand... Well Luffy was simply Luffy. Luffy was the one who had welcomed you into the crew with open arms without a second thought and his being himself was what was enough to make you fall in love with him.

When Sanji heard your voice, suddenly the argument between him and Zoro disappeared as if by magic and you saw him twirling around with heart-shaped eyes.

"Waah~ if sweet Y/n and beautiful Robin are coming, then i'll come too so i can protect them from the ghosts! Don't worry my ladies, your knight Sanji is here!"

You thanked him with a sheepish smile and Zoro crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

“How many times do we have to remind you that Y/n is already taken? Tch, you pervert…”

"I'll kill you moss-head!"

///

So it was just the five of you who entered the "haunted" city. The island was abandoned and there wasn't a soul alive, what could have gone wrong?

"Yoo-hoo! Ghosts?! Is anyone here?!" Luffy shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth and looking around.

Sanji kicked him, causing him to fall to the ground.

"Stop screaming like that! You idiot!"

Luffy whined as he rubbed his head and you helped him to his feet, but you didn't say anything to Sanji. It was nothing new that your captain behaved in a childish manner that could get his crewmates into trouble and was scolded for it.

"How about we walk towards the palace?" Zoro then asked. "I believe that we'll find all the answers we seek on this island up there"

You didn't even have time to agree with him before Luffy started running in the direction of the palace with an excited smile.

"Let's gooo!"

And before you could even tell him to wait, he grabbed your hand, dragging you with him, while behind you the other three let out a sigh of exasperation and then they followed you.

Arriving at the foot of the mountain, you raised your head to look at the building above you.

“That's a lot of stairs” you muttered and even though you had no intention of climbing all those steps at all, you knew that with Luffy it was pointless. He would not give you rest until he reached the top.

And after climbing all the steps, you finally arrived at the entrance to the palace. It seemed empty, but its physical appearance did not give the impression of being abandoned at all, like the city.

Suddenly, the lights of the lanterns that decorated the palace all turned on and only in that moment did you realize how the sky, previously clear, was now filled with so many dark clouds that had covered the sun.

“I have a feeling we're not alone” Robin murmured, as around you, a light breeze began to pick up.

Then, a voice.

"WELCOME FOREIGNERS!"

The front doors swung open and a man slowly advanced towards your group.

"It's a pleasure to have guests on our island after so long" the figure said with each step.

Initially you thought you had imagined that voice, but when you saw his face light up under the light of the lanterns, you had the terrible confirmation that unfortunately it was not a hallucination.

Instinctively you approached Luffy and took his hand without saying anything. He turned to look at you, not understanding your sudden behavior, but the voice of the one who had just left the building called his attention.

"Strawhat Luffy, i didn't expect that i would ever meet you in person" the man said opening his arms wide with a fake smile. "Where is the rest of your crew? Why don't you all come to my palace and i'll offer you something to drink?"

Luffy stared at him in silence. Your terrified look and the hand that continued to hold his were making him understand that that guy was not to be trusted at all.

"Tell us who you are first" Zoro said with a firm tone, placing a hand on the handles of his swords. Sanji lit a cigarette instead, looking at him suspiciously.

"Me?" the man asked, turning to look at the swordsman. "Of course, it was rude of me to not introduce myself, you're right. Well i am-"

"Captain Xavier..." you murmured, feeling your heart sink, but your voice was heard by everyone.

It was at that moment that the man noticed your presence, turning towards you and he widened his eyes and then he smiled.

“My dear Y/n~”

Hearing him say your name sent a shiver down your spine.

"Do you know each other?" Sanji asked confused, but neither he nor Zoro noticed Luffy and Robin's surprised looks of realization.

"He... He was... My old captain..." you murmured, looking down at the ground, humiliated.

Put like that, it might seem like a banal and touching moment of reunion between a captain and an old member of his crew. But it wasn't about that at all. The only ones who knew about your past were Robin and Luffy.

Xavier took a step forward towards you and you automatically took one back.

“It's been so long since we've seen each other, my dear” he said with a grin. "All these years i have missed you since the day you left us"

"I-I didn't leave you!" You exclaimed, lifting your head to look at him. "I ran away! Because you were a horrible person!"

Xavier chuckled.

"We're pirates, sweetheart. And pirates aren't good people"

"Yes, they are! Because we are good pirates!" you exclaimed. "We're not horrible and dishonest like you Xavier. We don't kill innocent people!"

You clenched your fist at your side.

“Y-You destroyed my village…” you growled, feeling anger and sadness flood your body in unison. You hadn't felt this way in a long time, but you didn't miss that feeling of agony in your chest at all. "You k-killed my family and... And you took me away, to make me your slave. You are a despicable being, Xavier!"

Sanji and Zoro's eyes widened. Robin looked at you sadly and thought back to the afternoon when you told her everything in front of Sunny's aquarium, with tears in your eyes.

“And so you went to seek refuge among the Strawhats, my dear?” Xavier exclaimed, opening his arms wide with an amused expression. "Led by a skinny brat who thinks he can become the Pirate King! Congratulations, you've really made a big step forward!"

Xavier started laughing loudly and you looked at him with teary eyes. You didn't care how much he insulted you, but you hated how he was making fun of Luffy, he had no idea of his strength.

"My dear little Y/n" the man then said once he stopped laughing "Why don't you leave this bunch of losers and come back to us, mh? We all know that is your true place"

Your eyes widened when you saw him approaching you again, but suddenly Luffy stepped in front of you with a step and he raised his head to look at him.

“Stay away from her” he said menacingly, glaring at him from the shadow of his straw hat.

Xavier remained silent, but then he smirked, not at all intimidated by Luffy's presence.

“Oh my dear Y/n, i see that you are still a weak and naive woman, who cannot stand up for herself” Xavier said calmly, stepping back. "But i have changed..."

Luffy continued to stare at him, gritting his teeth.

"I have become stronger..." the other continued and Zoro slowly began to draw one of his swords.

What he was saying was true. When you were under his command Xavier was already strong and evil, but after all those years he had gotten physically stronger and you could see it clearly given his height, definitely taller than Luffy's, the muscles of his arms and the scars he had gotten all over his body.

"And now i'm even more bloodthirsty than i was before!" he exclaimed with an evil smile, making your blood run cold in your veins at the way he said those words.

Suddenly, Xavier's hands began to turn like smoke and then all that smoke began to spread everywhere. No, it wasn't smoke...

"Is this fog?!" Sanji exclaimed and you noticed that because of the fog you were finding it increasingly difficult to see his body.

The only one you could still see was Luffy because he was right in front of you, so you walked over to him to grab his hand again.

“You know i was lucky enough to have the chance to eat a devil fruit too” Xavier's voice sounded around you and you turned to look at him, but he was completely gone. "I honestly would have preferred a stronger power like fire, but fog also has its advantages"

"Where did he go?!" Zoro exclaimed in the distance.

"I can't see him! And i can't see you either!" Robin then said.

Both you and Luffy continued to turn your heads, trying to spot him, but it was impossible now. He had completely merged with the fog, he could have been anywhere, he could have run away.

Until you suddenly heard his voice right next to your ear.

"For example i can do this"

Your eyes widened.

“Luff-hmph!”

You opened your mouth to call out to Luffy, but a hand covered your lips and you were dragged backwards, your hand releasing Luffy's, taken aback.

“Y/n!”

In a split second you saw Luffy suddenly turn towards you and then his body disappeared into the fog, along with the ones of your crewmates.

"Y/n! Y/n answer me! Where are you!?" Luffy continued to scream your name through the fog, while Zoro, Sanji and Robin tried to reunite with him.

"What happened?!" -Sanji

"Luffy what do we do?" -Zoro

Suddenly the fog began to clear and Luffy and the others widened their eyes when they saw that they had just been surrounded by an army of armed men.

"Damn! Where do all these guys come from?" Zoro asked, drawing his second sword.

"Luffy!"

Luffy whirled around when he heard your voice shouting his name and his and the others' eyes widened when they saw Xavier standing behind his men, holding your body in one hand.

"You bastard! Let her go!" Luffy shouted and without hesitation you saw him leap with a jump over all the pirates and towards you.

Xavier smirked and dodged him without any problems, then he threw a punch from behind that sent him crashing face first to the ground.

"Luffy!" You exclaimed again, scared for him.

Luffy raised his head to look at Xavier and the man tightened his hand around your body, making you whimper in pain.

"If you want her back, come and get her, Strawhat" he said and after creating another wall of fog he disappeared into the middle of it, taking you with him.

At that moment, all the pirates started to attack Luffy and the others, but before they could even take a step towards him, Luffy knocked them all out in a matter of seconds thanks to the power of haki.

"Well that was easy, wasn't it?" Zoro asked.

Then all the doors and windows of the palace opened, accompanied by a multitude of voices that were getting closer or closer. Luffy and the others realized that unfortunately the enemies were much more of the first ones.

"They're everywhere!" Robin said looking around, noticing pirates coming up the stairs and exiting the building as if they were ants.

"Guys! You cover me!" Luffy said as he adjusted his hat on his head. "I'm going to Xavier!"

"Leave it to us!" Zoro said with a smile.

“Make that bastard pay for hurting sweet Y/n!” Sanji continued, placing the cigarette between his lips and then kicking in the face the first pirate who dared to approach him.

Luffy began to run towards the entrance doors of the palace, defeating all the enemies who came in his path with punches and kicks.

"Get out of the way!" he shouted. "Y/n! I'm coming!"

From the highest room of the palace, you heard the shouts and clash of weapons of Xavier's men fighting against your friends and Luffy. But they would have made it. Right?

“Are you doubting them?” a voice asked from behind you. “Do you think your own crewmates won't make it?”

"No... My friends are strong"

“Stronger than you my dear, that's for sure” Xavier said with a chuckle that you ignored. By now you were used to his insults and the fact that he treated you as if you were worthless. "But do you really think that your captain is stronger than me?"

You slowly turned to look at Xavier with a murderous glare.

"I don't think so. I know that Luffy is stronger than you. And you will be another of the many people he's going to defeat before becoming the King Of The Pirates"

Xavier's smile slowly disappeared from his lips. He gritted his teeth and moved closer to you and before you could react, he punched you in the cheek, sending your body against the wall.

“You really are a pathetic woman, you haven't changed at all” the man said, tightening his hand around your body again and you squeezed your eyes shut in pain. “Do you know what i want right now Y/n? I want to kill your captain. And that's exactly what i'm going to do: his death will be the last thing you will see before you return with me to my ship as my slave. And i will make you regret to have escaped, believe me"

"XAVIERRR!"

Suddenly, the door broke into a thousand pieces and Luffy appeared inside the room, panting.

“L-Luffy…” you murmured with a smile.

Xavier composed himself and stood up, still holding your body in one hand.

Luffy clenched his fists when he saw your bloody mouth from Xavier's punch.

"Let her go. Now"

Xavier looked at him emotionlessly, as if he didn't care. Because that's exactly how it was.

"And if i don't?" he mockingly retorted.

Xavier tightened his grip around your body and you groaned in pain, coughing up blood as Luffy opened his eyes and gritted his teeth angrily. The man noticed Luffy's behavior, he was far too protective of you to just be your captain.

“Tell me Strawhat” Xavier then continued, loosening his grip on your body and you started breathing again. "Is she your woman?"

You weakly raised your head to look the man in the eyes with determination, despite your injuries.

"I-I'm not..."

"She's nobody's woman" Luffy continued, taking a step forward. "But if someone hurts her or my crewmates, you know what happens to them, right?"

Luffy cracked his knuckles, feeling the fury and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I will defeat you Xavier. I will become the King Of The Pirates. But above all: Y/n will never be your slave again. You'll have to walk over my dead body before i let you take her away!"

You looked at Luffy with bright, shiny eyes.

"Luffy..."

Xavier grinned, as Luffy got into a fighting stance.

“Good” he said, lifting the hand that was gripping your body. "Bring it on then"

Xavier threw your body backwards, out the window, so he could focus on Luffy and you let out a scream, followed by Luffy yelling your name. You hit the ground, rolling a few feet, as you heard Xavier's evil laughter echoing from the building.

“Y/n!”

Your head throbbed and you slowly tried to sit up, until suddenly you saw Luffy's worried face appear before your eyes.

"Are you okay??" He asked frantically, placing his hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly. "Oi! Answer me!"

"Strawhat!" Xavier's voice boomed from behind him. “You can't allow to let your guard down for her!”

Only then did you notice the light layer of fog that was slowly enveloping your bodies and your eyes widened when you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Luffy.

"Luffy watch out!"

Xavier tried to attack him and Luffy managed to block his punch by hardening his arm with haki, shielding you with his body.

"Why do you keep to protect her?" Xavier asked, trying to push his fist forward. "She's weak. She's just a dead weight! You can never be the Pirate King as long as you have someone like her in your crew! Don't you understand that?"

Luffy gritted his teeth.

"S-Shut up!" if his gaze had been capable of killing someone, Xavier would have died at that moment. "You know nothing about her!"

Luffy managed to push him away and Xavier was thrown backwards, back into the palace, but he knew he wouldn't last long.

"He's right..."

When Luffy heard your voice and turned to look at you, he saw you with your head bowed and shoulders shaking.

"I-I'm too weak. Someone like me doesn't deserve to stay in your crew, Luffy" you murmured as you clenched a fist on top of your thigh. "You're just wasting your time worrying about me, you'll never be able to make your dream come true. F-Forgive me... Forgive me Luffy, you don't deserve this..."

You closed your eyes and began to sob, not noticing Luffy's serious gaze fixed on your face. At that exact moment, the image of another you crying out loud just like you were doing now crossed his mind, when during a moment of intimacy between the both of you, you had found the courage to reveal your past to him. Luffy may have been a childish and forgetful boy, but if there was one thing he would never forget, that was your face of that day, with red eyes and cheeks covered in tears. And he knew Xavier deserved a punishment for everything he did to you.

Luffy took off his strawhat and placed it on your hair. You raised your head to look at him.

"L-Luffy?"

“You're not weak” he said, looking you straight in the eyes. "If you are in my crew, it's because i know that you are strong. And as your captain, i forbid you to believe Xavier's words, do you understand me?"

The seriousness of his words and the determination in his eyes with which he was looking at you were making your heart beat faster.

“And then…” he said and he flashed you a smile. "As long as i'm here, you know you can always count on me. I told you, don't you remember?"

Your eyes widened and you remembered the words Robin told you that time at the aquarium.

“We are a family, Y/n. We always help each other in times of need. You don't have to be afraid to ask for help”

"R-Really?" you sobbed as you looked at Robin and she smiled thoughtfully at you, nodding.

"We all did it. And with Luffy as our captain, we know he'll always do anything to protect us"

And then, you thought back to Luffy's words.

“As long as you are with me, you will never have to be afraid again. I will always protect you, no matter what. It's a promise”

“It's a promise, Y/n”

Hearing Luffy say those words again you couldn't help but cry again, but this time from emotion. He didn't care about your weaknesses, on the contrary, he knew that you had a potential in you that, thanks to Xavier, you had never had the courage to show. But now you had confirmation of where you really belonged and that was with Luffy. He and the others were your new home, your new family.

“T-Thank you Luffy,” you said, your trembling lips lifting into a smile. "Thank you so much!"

Luffy chuckled lightly.

"Shishishi! Come on, don't cry Y/n!" he said reaching a hand towards your face to wipe the tears from your cheeks in a somewhat goofy way and you closed your eyes with a sniff, letting out a giggle.

Next you saw him stand up.

"Now i want you to stay here and wait for me while i deal with that guy. Okay?" he said, jerking his thumb at Xavier in the distance behind him. "I'll be right back. And take care of my hat!"

Those were the last words he said to you before throwing himself headfirst into Xavier and you smiled as you watched him go, clutching your hands to your chest.

"I will"

///

When Nami saw you all returning aboard the Sunny, she and Usopp were the first to run towards you, worried.

"What happened?! We heard bangs and screams!"

"Are you all alright!?"

Then Franky, Brook and Chopper also joined and the latter let out a scared cry when he saw you sitting on Luffy's back (he and Sanji had argued about carrying you since you were injured, but in the end Sanji gave up).

“Y/n!”

You flashed him a weak grin, climbing down from Luffy's body for him to have a look, but you waved a hand nonchalantly, not wanting to worry him too much.

"Don't worry about me, Chopper. I'm fine, really"

The reindeer didn't seem too convinced by your words, but when he saw you leaning against Luffy's side with a tired smile, he decided to let it go.

"So what did you find out? Who did you fight?" Franky asked curiously.

Luffy fixed his hat on his head and hugging your body against his he tilted his head so he could rest it on yours, rubbing his cheek against your hair affectionately.

“Oh no one important, shishishi!” he exclaimed with an innocent smile and the others looked at him in confusion.

From behind Zoro, Robin gave you a knowing look and a smile which you silently returned, before clasping Luffy's hand in yours.

The past was behind you. Your present was with your crew and your beloved captain. That was where you belonged.

///

723 notes · View notes

compress1repress · 5 days ago

Note

patrick loses a bet w art and ends up wearing a cute lil tennis skirt for a practice match, but it backfires horribly bc patrick is feeling his oats and art cant fucking focus for shit. like hes WHITE KNUCKLING the racket

"patrick. please stop"

"what? this is so breathable i should wear this every time 😋"

[the most deliriously horny hes ever been in his life] "please for the love of god STOP"

tashi walks by appreciatively and is like hey zweig. good form [nice ass]. maybe it gives her ideas and she goes online lingerie shopping. idk i just think his thighs would look good in garters. smudge some eyeliner on him while youre there idk. im just spitballin here boss

Woah. Clearly this got to me bc i received this five days ago and now I've written a 12k word fic that is only a part one. Like this doesn't even get into the eyeliner and garters of it all yet. I took some liberties but hopefully got the essentials :D hope it's okay!!

thank you for this ask <3 the part 2 will be started soon

-> AO3 VERSION

cw: nsfw, mdni, i think you can tell from the ask what might come up, just general filth, light feminisation, 12k word count

im sure I'll have more to say tomorrow but for now here it is:

“She won’t be back until this evening,” Art calls out to Patrick after hanging up the phone.

“Why not?” Patrick’s laid flat on his back along the length of the couch, taking up a very unnecessary amount of space.

“Lily wanted to sleep over so Tashi’s going to stay for dinner before she comes back,” he explains, joining Patrick in the sitting room.

Tashi had taken Lily to her cousin’s, she had two children, one Lily’s age and one a little older. Usually Art would go too, and he’d sometimes have to play with Lily because she got too shy. They’d send her off with the other kids but she’d come back ten minutes later, pulling at Art’s sleeve and he couldn’t say no. That’s probably why Tashi had even agreed to this last minute sleepover, it’s a pretty big deal that Lily actually wanted to stay over. It’s also why she’s staying for dinner, just in case Lily changes her mind.

Art hadn’t gone because Uniqlo was sending over some outfits for their brand deal, and he had to sign for the delivery. That was the reasoning they gave Patrick at least. Really it was because it felt strange leaving him in their house alone, not because they didn’t trust him there.

They couldn’t exactly drag Patrick along with them to every event, they knew that, and he must know that too, but every time he’s left alone for a while he gets weird. He gets sad. Art and Tashi don’t explicitly talk about it, but there’s a shared understanding between them.

“So, we’ve got like four hours of an empty house?” Patrick muses, clearly trying very hard to keep his face neutral.

“We’re not fucking,” Art smiles down at him.

“I wasn’t suggesting anything,” Patrick tries but Art raises an eyebrow at him, “alright, why not?”

“Tashi said so,” and she’d been very clear on the phone to Art about it.

“Okay, no fucking,” Patrick nods, a smirk growing on his face, “but she didn’t say anything a-”

“No blowjobs, no hand stuff, and no touching under clothes,” Art cuts him off, moving to sit on the armchair since Patrick is taking up all the space on the couch.

“Well, we don’t have to take our clothes off to have a good time,” Patrick sits up, looking at Art with a hopeful grin.

“No dry humping either,” Art can’t help but snort at the disappointment on his face.

“Jesus, she really thought this through,” he flops back down, sighing, a look of both frustration and admiration on his face.

“I think she just knows that you’ll be trying to find any possible loophole,” Art snorts, and he can tell Patrick is still brainstorming solutions, “c’mon, she just wants us to wait until she gets back.”

“Fine,” Patrick relents, “but if I do come up with an ingenious loophole, we’re taking it.”

If Art’s being honest he had also hoped Patrick would find a way around it, then he could probably get off now and just blame it on Patrick later. That way Tashi would probably punish Patrick and he’d get to fuck her while Patrick watches.

Instead he decides to exercise some restraint, because he wants to be good for Tashi. It’s not like she was being mean, she just didn't want them to use up all their energy before she got home. Plus, he’s not that manipulative, not all the time.

Although, really, if he knew for a fact that Tashi would believe that it wasn’t his fault, he’d start riling Patrick up now, get him to think he was the one seducing Art into breaking rules.

Unfortunately, he’s pretty sure both Tashi and Patrick would see right through him.

“Sure, but how about we just watch a movie for now?” Art suggests.

“Yeah, alright, movie mashup?” Patrick asks.

It’s this thing they used to do when they were young, a tradition that had come back now they lived together again. If they wanted to watch a movie they’d both just name the first one that came to mind then try to find a middle ground between the two. It was their way of assuring they didn’t have a fight because technically they’d both equally chosen the movie. Some days it worked better than others, and occasionally they named the same film anyway.

Although, once when they were fourteen, Art had picked A Bug’s Life while Patrick had wanted Weird Science; they decided The Fly sounded like a mashup of the two (insects + eighties science? They never said the method was flawless), which ended up being a little traumatising. Art still has a slight fear of fingernails.

“Okay, I’ll count down,” Art waits for Patrick’s nod, “3…2…1…”

Art says, “E.T.” at the same time Patrick yells, “Sharknado.”

“Sharknado?” Art questions through a laugh.

“It’s fun,” Patrick defends.

“What’s the mashup, then?” Art asks.

It only takes a few seconds, because they had so much practice, and because this one is easy. Spielberg and sharks, duh.

They smile at each other, both getting it at the same time, “Jaws.”

“That might be the most satisfying mashup yet,” Patrick grins, “but are you sure it’s not too scary?”

“We’ve both seen it before,” Art rolls his eyes.

“I’m just saying, maybe we should sit as close as possible, just in case,” Patrick is so obvious.

“Patrick, we’re not fucking,” he warns, again half-wanting Patrick to keep pushing.

“Fine,” he groans, “just innocent cuddling then, for old time’s sake?”

He guesses that is what they used to do on movie mashup nights, pressed up against each other in one of their single beds. Sometimes one of them would have an arm around the other, because it was comfier that way, and neither of them ever really thought twice about it. It was hardly the height of their physical affection with each other, they’d done more on tennis courts in front of everyone.

Art hasn’t answered so Patrick adds, “seriously, I don’t have a sexual ulterior motive.”

“I know, but now I have a feeling you’re trying to lure me out of the comfy armchair so you can take it for yourself,” Art’s lying, he just wants to see what Patrick will do.

“You’re so cynical,” he gets up walking over, “guess we’ll just have to share.”

“You won’t fit,” Art shakes his head, letting him try anyway.

Patrick attempts to sit in Art's lap but he’s so tall, and the armchair is pretty small. He sits on one of Art’s thighs, his legs curled up the best they can.

“There we go,” Patrick reaches an arm around the back of the chair to keep himself steady.

“You do realise your entire body weight is on my left leg,” Art complains.

“You want a more even weight distribution? I can do that,” he shuffles, bringing himself to sit directly on his lap, his back against Art’s chest.

Art’s hands immediately wrap around Patrick's torso without even thinking, “I’m not watching this entire movie with your ass directly on my dick.”

“It’s not my fault if you can’t control yourself,” Patrick shrugs, not so subtly pressing himself further against Art.

“I’m not worried about myself,” he bites lightly at Patrick’s shoulder, “but also, I won’t be able to see the screen with you sitting like this.”

“Okay, final offer,” Patrick moves again, attempting to find a position that is less compromising and also doesn’t involve crushing Art with his body weight.

Patrick's legs now hang uncomfortably over the edge of the chair, and when he tries to adjust by resting his feet on the arm, he practically knees Art in the face.

"Maybe if I try the other side," Patrick shuffles again, on his way to switch sides, he swings one leg over Art's thighs, facing him as he straddles him.

"This isn't working," Art grabs Patrick's waist to hold him there, "your legs are too fucking long."

Patrick can't hide his grin at the position they're in but he tilts his head towards the couch, "yeah, we're gonna need a bigger boat."

Art laughs, "you know that's one of those misquotes, like it's actually 'you're gonna need a bigger boat' not we're."

"Who fucking cares," Patrick teases, "and if you're going to correct me, you should at least be right."

"It's true," Art says with a little more passion than necessary.

"No, you're thinking of the Star Wars quote," Patrick's also getting genuinely into it, "where Darth Vader doesn't actually say Luke, I am your father or whatever."

"Yeah, that's another famous misquote, doesn't mean I'm wrong about the Jaws one," Art's hands squeeze tighter.

"Alright, let's bet on it," Patrick suggests.

"I'm not betting about a stupid movie quote," Art snorts.

"Because you know you're wrong," Patrick's got this smug look on his face that always works on Art.

"Fine, I bet you $100 that it's you're not we're," he shrugs.

"I'm not betting $100 dollars."

"Exactly, because you know that you're wrong," Art grins, satisfied.

"No, I'm not betting that because it's got no stakes for you," Patrick explains, then leans in a little closer "and it's boring."

It successfully pisses Art off enough that he needs to prove a point. He can be creative and interesting.

Suddenly it hits him.

"Give me a second," Art's reaching his hands around Patrick at his thighs, one hand below his ass and the other at the small of his back, standing up bringing Patrick up with him.

He briefly lifts him up, turning around and then depositing Patrick back onto the armchair where he lands with a bounce.

Art watches the way his legs slightly spread as Patrick looks up at him, his eyes a little darker.

"What are you looking at?" Art asks, acting like he has no idea.

"Nothing," Patrick regains composure, smiling, "stop stalling. What's the bet?"

“I have the perfect thing,” Art walks to the corner of the room, where an opened package rests, “you know that delivery I signed for?”

“Yeah?” Patrick confirms, curious.

It was the Uniqlo delivery he had signed for earlier, and whether it was because they had just sent the whole new line, or if it had been intended for Tashi he wasn’t sure, but part of the order had been a tennis skirt. It was too big for Tashi, and not her style either way so he wasn’t sure what to do with it - until now.

“This came in it,” he holds up the skirt, it’s white and pleated so it flares out slightly, a tasteful logo embroidered at the hem.

“A skirt,” Patrick sits up, clearly Art’s got his attention, “what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that the loser has to wear this skirt while we play some tennis,” Art watches Patrick grin in response, he examines the skirt, “looks about your size.”

“Really, I think it’s more your size,” Patrick seems thoroughly amused, walking over to Art with a hand outstretched, “so, loser has to wear this the whole time, one set?”

Art shakes his hand, “deal.”

“Honestly, Art, I wouldn’t worry, your legs will look great in that,” Patrick points to the skirt.

“I don’t have to worry, because I am 100% certain that I’m right,” Art is actually probably 90% sure at this point, but no way is he backing down from a chance to get one over on Patrick.

“Alright, pull up the clip and prepare to eat your words,” Patrick grins, eager.

They use Art’s phone, eyes glued to the little screen, skipping to the crucial moment. They watch him, terrified look, cigarette in mouth, turn to captain Quint and then: ‘You’re gonna need a bigger boat.’

“Fuck off,” Patrick knocks Art’s phone out of his hand, but Art doesn’t even care. Victory feels so sweet.

Art musters up all the condescension he can, smiling at Patrick, “honestly, Patrick, I wouldn’t worry, your legs will look great in that.”

Patrick just flops down onto the couch groaning.

Art laughs again, “what do you think you’re doing? We’ve got tennis to play.”

Patrick looks up at him, eyebrows raised, “what? Right now?”

“When else are we going to have a free house?” Art shrugs.

"Fine," he gets up again, "bet I'll still beat you anyway."

"Not sure you're in a position to be making any more bets," Art grins

They both get changed, Art lets Patrick get dressed in the bathroom, joking about ‘giving him some privacy’. Patrick goes reluctantly, but he doesn’t complain, one thing about Patrick is he’s very loyal to the rules of a bet. Art is having too much fun, it’s maybe a little childish but it’s leftover from when Patrick would always win these type of things, so he thinks he’s allowed to gloat just a little. Patrick would be doing the same in his position.

Art waits for him by the back door, both of their rackets in hand, eager to get going. When Patrick emerges, Art doesn’t even look, not properly, all he can concentrate on is teasing Patrick.

“It’s actually pretty comfortable,” Patrick comments.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll get a nice breeze,” Art just jokes back, “c’mon.”

He holds an arm out, gesturing for Patrick to go out first.

Patrick slips past him out the door, snorting and grabbing the racket from Art’s hand on the way, “chivalry isn’t dead.”

“I pride myself on being a gentleman,” Art watches Patrick give an uneven curtsy.

“Or maybe you want to walk behind so you can look at my ass,” Patrick calls over his shoulder, walking towards the courts.

Art chuckles again but once Patrick has fully turned around and he’s not focusing on being as smug as possible about winning the bet, he finally actually looks. At first he just notices how mismatched the outfit is, the black sleeveless top not going at all with the white of the skirt.

Once his eyes reach the skirt though, he can’t stop looking. It’s something about the way the hem brushes against the back of his thighs, just barely long enough to keep everything covered. If there was a gust of wind or if Patrick bent over, even a little, he would probably be exposed. Something swirls in Art’s stomach.

Nope. This is not going to be a thing. It’s just because he knows they’re not supposed to fuck, and anything forbidden becomes instantly hotter. Or maybe it’s a power thing. Yeah. He’s just getting horny over Patrick losing a bet and being forced to do what Art said. Still, to be careful he avoids looking the rest of the walk down.

He’s concentrating so much on not thinking about it that once they get to the courts he obviously doesn’t hear Patrick asking him a question.

“Hello, Earth to Art,” Patrick’s waving his racket, then smirking, “anything in particular making you so distracted?”

“Nothing, I was just wondering if I should take pity on you,” Art keeps his eyes firmly at Patrick’s face, “how about we just do one game instead?”

Patrick looks at him suspiciously, “oh no, a deal’s a deal, I’ll play the whole set.”

“It’s your funeral,” Art shrugs, mustering up the best performance he can but Patrick is still eyeing him. He forgot how good Patrick is at reading him. It’s really fucking annoying.

Art serves first which should be good because he plays better that way and his serve is a strong point. His first serve is strong, and Patrick has to move quick to hit it back, lunging sideways to reach it. The movement makes the muscles in his thighs tense, fully on show for Art to see.

“0:15,” Patrick calls out.

Art has entirely missed his return. It’s so stupid and it doesn’t even make sense. He’s seen Patrick’s thighs before. He’s literally seen him naked. He’s always worn shorts whilst playing, often incredibly tiny shorts that showed just as much skin as this, and sure the sight of it sometimes turned Art on but never like this.

It’s just new, that’s why, he hasn’t seen Patrick in this before so it’s a little distracting that’s all. It’s fine. This is meant to be Patrick’s punishment for losing.

Art ignores Patrick, just focusing on the ball in his hand and the service box. It works, he hits the ball hard and fast into the top left of the box and Patrick tries and fails to hit back.

“Shit,” Patrick grumbles, swinging his racket in annoyance. He does a quick turn to head back to baseline and the speed makes the fabric of the skirt float up a little. What the fuck is that?

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he can’t help but yell.

“Um, do you have amnesia or something?” Patrick calls back.

“I don’t mean the skirt, I mean,” he gestures with his racket, “what’s underneath it?”

“Oh, yeah, well my boxers were longer than the skirt so I thought I’d just borrow some of your panties instead,” Patrick sways his hips, “much more fitting, don’t you think?”

“They’re not panties, they’re briefs,” he defends, “and you can’t just steal my underwear.”

He doesn’t care about that, he’s just mad about how much it’s getting to him and it’s not like he can yell at Patrick for being too fucking hot right now. No, that would give Patrick too much satisfaction. But really, it’s unfair. The skirt and now the underwear, Art’s underwear that look even tinier when Patrick’s wearing them.

“It’s not stealing, it’s sharing. We already share a toothbrush so I figured it wouldn’t matter,” Patrick shrugs.

“We don’t share a toothbrush,” he snaps but then Patrick’s got this amused look on his face, he’s messing with him, “fuck off.”

“Hey, if it bothers you this much I can always just take the underwear off,” Patrick suggests.

“No,” Art replies quickly, because he wants him to keep wearing the underwear or because he’s scared about what would happen to him if Patrick was fully naked under the skirt, “let’s just keep playing.”

They do keep playing, and Art loses the first game, badly. 15:40. He just can’t focus. His eyes drawn to Patrick, the way the skirt fits, the hem at his legs. This delicate floaty material, and the thick expanse of his thighs, the dark hair against the white of the skirt. He keeps looking, making sure that he’s still covered whilst also desperately hoping to get another glimpse underneath. The game is both slow torture and incredibly quick, he’s not sure he’s ever lost one so fast.

It’s Patrick’s turn to serve now, which is even worse. He throws the ball too high so he has to jump to hit it, which is definitely on purpose. It makes the skirt float up, revealing the tight black underwear again, the bulge definitely bigger now, the fabric straining more. Or maybe Art’s just projecting. Either way he can’t react in time. 15:0.

“Art, you do know you’re supposed to hit the ball back, right?” Patrick mocks, “have you forgotten how to play or is there something on your mind?”

“I’m just tired,” Art gets back into ready position, “probably getting bored because you’re taking so long to serve.”

Patrick grins especially wide and Art gets the sense that he’s messed up, only encouraging Patrick further.

Patrick throws the ball up to serve, but ‘accidentally’ throws it backwards so it lands behind him, rolling to the back of the court, “oops, I better go pick that up.”

For his own sanity Art should look away but he’s not thinking clearly anymore, just watching Patrick reach for the ball. As he bends over the hem rises, first just brushing lightly, exposing a few more inches of skin. Then a brief moment when he fully bends over that Art can see his entire ass, his own underwear against Patrick’s skin.

This is the problem, it’s the perfect in between. Showing enough skin that Art can’t help but be turned on, but also covered enough that Art has to use his imagination. Imagining standing behind him right now, Patrick trying to pull the material back over himself but Art would push it back up, ripping down the underwear and just fucking into him.

“I hope I didn’t show too much, I’d be so embarrassed if you saw my ass just now,” Patrick’s laughing, and Art hadn’t even realised he was stood up again.

“I wasn’t looking,” Art insists and it just makes Patrick chuckle harder.

“Nice grip,” Patrick comments, looking at Art’s hands.

Art looks down himself, both hands on his racket, gripping so tight his knuckles have gone white. He loosens the grip, has to actually shake his hands with how stiff they are from holding that tight.

“Just serve,” Art orders, and Patrick does.

Art loses this game even worse. 40:0. Not a single point.

Patrick tries to serve again, “it’s my fucking serve,” Art snaps, not wanting anything to prolong this stupid bet any longer than necessary. Maybe he should just give up, lose on purpose so it can just be over.

“Oh, my bad, that game was so quick I didn’t realise I’d already won,” Patrick knows exactly what to say to keep Art playing, there’s no way he’s throwing a game against Patrick.

Art tells himself that he’s going to play better this game, and he actually manages another point before he loses his concentration again.

Patrick’s prancing around, enjoying himself too much, talking about how he has “so much more movement in this skirt,” or how it’s just “so breathable.”

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. This was supposed to be humiliating for Patrick. It should be him embarrassed, and distracted while Art won the set with ease. Patrick unable to hit back, spending the game self-consciously pulling the skirt down and begging Art to take mercy.

Instead, Art’s the one stood all flushed and embarrassingly hard, unable to get more than a couple points. It’s 15:40, and Art’s just hit his first serve into the net. If he misses his second, Patrick will win yet another game.

Patrick is swaying his hips, twisting side to side so the skirt flies up a little, “honestly, I don’t know how people who wear skirts don’t spend the whole time twirling around.”

“I need to serve,” Art tries to say but Patrick either doesn’t hear or just ignores him.

“This is so great, only downside is I can’t tie my shoelaces without giving everyone a show,” he starts to bend down, as if testing out how much he can without the entire skirt riding up.

The side profile is just as bad as being behind, the skirt slowly slipping up, showing more and more of the meat of Patrick’s thigh. Before it can get any higher, Art cuts in.

“Patrick,” he’s aiming for stern but it comes out all pleading, a borderline whine as if begging him to stop.

“Problem?” Patrick is so pleased with himself, but he stops bending over.

“Just get into position,” he just about manages to not add a please to it.

“Which position would you like?” Patrick asks, dripping his words in suggestiveness.

It’s so stupid and so completely the opposite of subtle, even for Patrick’s standards, but it’s like opening Pandora’s box. Like giving permission for his imagination to run wild.

Art can’t take it, all these thoughts rushing to flood his brain. He wants Patrick on his knees, skirt fanning out all pretty across his thighs, eyes all glassy as Art fucks into his mouth. He’d stroke at Patrick’s curls, he’d swipe a thumb under his eye collecting the tears that form when Art pushes down his throat and he starts gagging. Art smiling down at him repeating, ‘it’s okay, I know you can take it’.

Maybe he’ll order Patrick to bend over, hands on the net, and Patrick will be so smug about getting him to finally crack until Art spanks him with his racket, wiping that smirk off his face. The black of Art’s underwear on him, the white of the skirt pushed up, then the pink of his ass. The visual makes him a little dizzy.

Fuck, he could sit in the chair on the sidelines, have Patrick in his lap like earlier. Art would pull himself out of his shorts, push Patrick’s underwear to the side and split Patrick open on his dick. Art would keep a tight arm around him, Patrick’s back pressed tight to Art’s front, holding him up straight as Patrick’s body goes weak with pleasure.

He wouldn’t even fuck him, not properly, he’d just keep him held there, tight and warm around him. The skirt would drape over them both, covering it all, so they could pretend like Patrick was just innocently sitting on his lap. Only they would know that Art’s cock was actually inside him, pressing up against that bundle of nerves. It wouldn’t fool Tashi, not for a second, but maybe she’d get so horny she’d forgive them for breaking her rules.

Or, most humiliating is the way Art kind of just wants to push him down on his back and kiss him all over. Especially his legs. He wants to lick all the way up them, he wants to bite at his thighs, he wants to savor it all. Because Patrick always pisses him off, and Art often gets the urge to shove him down and teach him a lesson. He’s still pissed off now, but this time he’s got this need to make him feel good. Make him moan all pretty as Art shows off his skills, and Patrick’s thighs would be right on either side of his head.

It’s the least filthy idea he’s had this whole time and yet it feels the most embarrassing. This thought swirling in his head where he’s not even thinking about getting himself off. Not right away at least. Just focusing on having Patrick, skirt and all, underneath him, pink all over from pleasure and Art’s the one making him feel that good.

Art’s at his breaking point, he doesn’t care if Patrick is actually ready, physically can’t look at him to check, instead he just serves. The energy thrumming throughout him makes him hit too hard, the ball soars past the service box and Art loses the third game.

“Double fault,” Patrick calls out, overjoyed, “I guess you are tired? Maybe we should take a break?”

“Perfect,” Art mumbles out, making a beeline for one of the chairs at the sidelines.

He slumps down, taking a sip of water and staring straight ahead. He’s aware of Patrick moving next to him but he doesn’t turn, not until he feels Patrick get to the floor out of the corner of his eyes. He’s too curious, and when he looks he sees that Patrick is on all fours. Of course he is.

Instead of sitting on his chair like he’s supposed to, Patrick’s on his hands and knees reaching underneath it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Art has to ask.

“Can’t find my water bottle,” Patrick reaches further under the chair, his back arching making his ass stick out further, skirt riding up. Art’s jaw clenches.

He’s pretty sure Patrick hadn’t even brought a water bottle, and either way, they can both clearly see that there is absolutely nothing under that chair. He can’t even bring himself to yell all this at Patrick.

“Just, take mine,” he snaps, holding it out, “and stop fucking doing that.”

“Thanks, I’m really thirsty,” he gets off all fours, leaning back to rest on his knees instead as he takes the bottle from Art.

Art doesn’t know if this position is better or worse than the last. Patrick tilts his head back, holding the water bottle above himself and squirting it into his mouth. Art watches the movement of his throat as he swallows, and the way some of the water misses his open mouth, dripping past his lips and down his neck. Worse. Definitely worse.

“Can you just sit normally,” Art watches Patrick put down the bottle and start to change position, but Art dreads what would be next so he changes his order, “or actually, how about you don’t sit on the floor at all?”

Art had meant for Patrick to go sit on his own chair, so that Art can just stare ahead and not think about him, and then maybe he can actually calm down. That’s what Art had intended, so of course that’s not what Patrick does.

"Fine, I should stretch anyway," he gets up, walking over to Art and putting a foot up on his chair.

"Patrick," he warns, his hands clenched tight at his sides, trying to ignore how close Patrick’s thigh is to his face.

"I need to put my foot somewhere sturdy," he shrugs, "my hamstrings get tight if I don't stretch."

"Nobody has ever stretched like that," Art's words are lost on Patrick, who ignores them, lunging deeper.

The expanse of his thigh is right next to him, Art’s practically drooling, he wants to get a mouth on him so badly, to just bite at his flesh. He can’t be the one to actually give in, he doesn’t want to give Patrick the satisfaction and he needs to be able to shift the blame for breaking Tashi’s rules.

From this angle it would be so easy to slip a hand up the skirt, feel at Patrick’s crotch, see if he’s as hard as Art is.

Speaking of that, Patrick looks down, “Jesus, no wonder you were playing so bad, that thing looks painful,” he eyes the way Art’s dick strains in his shorts, “I could help with that.”

“You need to stop,” Art’s hanging onto his last threads of restraint.

“That’s another thing about this skirt, it’s great for hiding a boner,” Patrick removes his leg and Art, foolishly, thinks he might actually be relenting.

Instead he returns, this time a knee on either side of Art’s thighs, straddling him. He sits up, hovering above Art's crotch, nothing actually touching Art’s dick yet.

“No grinding, remember,” Art reminds Patrick, so that he can tell Tashi, ‘I told him the rules, he just didn’t care’.

“I’m not,” Patrick says, but he lowers himself so that their crotches are now definitely pressed together.

Art’s hands snap up to grab his waist, holding him still, “don’t.”

“I’m just helping you cover up, look,” he tilts his head down, his skirt draped across both their laps, “perfectly innocent now. Nobody would know any different unless…”

Patrick trails off, his hand reaching for the hem, slowly dragging the fabric of the skirt upwards. It reveals that underneath Patrick definitely is just as hard as Art is, both of them pressed up together.

“Considering breaking any rules yet?” Patrick teases and Art is officially finished.

He moves one hand to the back of Patrick’s upper thigh, just below his ass, and the other to his lower back. Standing up, he once again lifts Patrick with him, and his legs instinctively wrap around Art’s waist.

“Where are we going?” he asks into Art’s ear.

The answer is: not very far. Art is beyond desperate, he makes it a few steps before lowering Patrick down onto the court on his back. Art drapes himself on top, hips fitting between Patrick’s open legs. He finally, finally, brings their mouths together, kissing sloppier than usual.

Patrick just follows, happily licking into Art’s mouth, pulling back briefly to ask, “are we allowed to kiss?”

“Yeah, kissing’s fine,” he says into his mouth.

“You could’ve told me that before,” Patrick bites at his lip.

“I knew you’d take advantage,” Art bites back, a hand slipping up the side of Patrick’s thigh, up under the skirt. Fuck.

“Thought we weren't allowed to touch under clothes?” Patrick asks.

“It’s not like I’m trying to undress you, it’s not my fault if my hand accidentally slips underneath a little,” Art can’t help himself, his hips pressing forwards against Patrick.

“Fair enough,” Patrick chuckles, then adds, “but you definitely said no dry humping.”

“It’s fine as long as we don’t finish,” Art’s making it up as he goes and Patrick nods in agreement, happy to go with however Art wants to bend the rules, as long as he’s the one bending them. Patrick’s pretty much off the hook now and Art can’t even bring himself to care.

He only pulls back when he realises he’s already getting close, and he just said they couldn’t get off like that. It’s fine though, he has other plans. He moves down Patrick’s body, everything speeding up and his mouth is at his knee, licking up and up his leg, stopping before his crotch. He does the same at the other side, then goes for the inner thighs, biting at the flesh. Patrick takes in a sharp inhale.

“Surely that’s not part of the rules,” he comments, propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at Art.

“You’re still dressed aren’t you?” Art just raises an eyebrow at him like it’s an obvious point.

“Yeah, I guess it’s fine,” Patrick breathes out.

Art goes further up the thigh, his head now underneath Patrick’s skirt, those thighs either side of his ears. Exactly where he wanted to be. The fabric covers him so that Patrick can’t see when Art suddenly licks a stripe up his dick, over his underwear.

Patrick gasps, “fuck,” then, “what about the no blowjobs rule?”

“It’s not a blowjob. As long as it’s through the underwear, technically my mouth isn’t actually touching you,” Art reasons, and it isn’t a particularly sound argument but neither of them care.

“Makes sense to me,” Patrick agrees.

Art licks again and he feels Patrick relax, laying flat against the court again. God, this is fucking ridiculous. His head up Patrick’s skirt, licking him over his (Art’s) briefs, on the fucking tennis court.

He moves more vigorously, tonguing all over, from his balls up the shaft to the head. He lets himself drool, getting the underwear all wet so it slips against Patrick’s dick even smoother. Patrick’s moaning quietly, shifting his hips, trying to push himself more against Art’s face. He lets Patrick essentially hump his face, keeping up his tonguing movements, occasionally sucking instead.

Then Art sucks at his tip through the material and Patrick gasps again, “shit,” he props himself up, pulling the skirt back to look at Art all desperate, “can’t you just blow me for real?”

“We’ve been following the rules so well, no point stopping now,” Art smiles.

“I know, but I need something more,” Patrick bargains, “c’mon, what about a little fingering? Just slip in one finger, she’ll never know.”

“She’ll be able to tell if we lie,” Art argues, “so if we behave now, then when she asks if we followed her rules we can say yes, and it will be true.”

Well, truer than if Art actually did suck Patrick off properly.

“I know, I just-” Patrick cuts himself off with a moan as Art licks at him again.

“We’ve been so good,” Art keeps licking between speaking, “as long as you keep the underwear on it’s fine. You can finish like this, can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick breathes out.

“Shouldn’t even be doing this, I just couldn’t help myself, you looked so good,” Art rambles, “the skirt was driving me fucking crazy.”

“Art, please,” not asking for anything in particular, just wanting more.

Art starts sucking through the fabric again, close to the head but not quite. Patrick whines, his hips bucking up.

“You need to be good,” Art reminds him, “you can cum like this.”

This time it isn’t a question, it’s an order, and Patrick manages out an “okay.”

Art presses harder with his tongue, swirling it around the most sensitive part. Patrick’s groaning, breathing quickly.

“I’m close,” he gets out, strained.

Art’s about to praise him but he can feel Patrick bringing a hand down, trying to get into his own underwear and touch himself. Art intercepts it, grabbing it and holding it down against the court.

“What happened to being good?” Art asks.

“I’m almost there, I don’t know if I can,” he’s squirming, trying to get friction.

“You can,” Art assures, sucking again, “tell me you can.”

“I can.”

Art focuses on licking at the tip again, it has Patrick thrusting up against him uncontrollably, and moaning louder. He switches to sucking, hard, directly at the head and now Patrick whines.

“Fuck, Art, shit,” his hips trying to move away from the intense feeling at the same time they try to press further into it, “I’m so close, I’m there, I’m going to-”

“You gonna cum?” he asks, a little smug, “you gonna be good, and finish in your panties for me?”

“Yes, yeah,” Patrick nods furiously, “for you.”

“Good girl,” spills out of Art, and then he’s bringing the tip back in his mouth. He sucks and swirls his tongue around it, and Patrick is moaning, his hips stuttering as they thrust up in sudden shock and pleasure.

Art feels a wet warmth spread across the fabric as Patrick orgasms.

He pulls back, observing his work. Patrick's chest rising up and down, quickly. He's flushed all pink, hair sticking to his forehead. He can see the way Patrick's underwear are damp with his own cum and Art's spit.

The sight is almost enough to make him forget what he just said. Almost. He feels himself turn pink, hot all over.

"What the fuck," Patrick flings an arm over his face, still breathing heavy, and Art's slightly worried he's crossed some sort of line.

Then Art watches a smile spread across his face, Patrick peaks out from behind his arm, grinning, "so you admit they're panties?"

Art laughs in relief, "fuck off," then looks Patrick up and down, "they are when you wear them."

He lifts himself up to sit properly, staring at Art's lap, "want me to help you get off?"

Art considers for a second, but if he rambled that embarrassingly just from getting Patrick off, he's scared of what he'd say if he was about to come himself.

"I shouldn't," he decides, "and you should probably shower, get rid of the evidence."

"Why do I need to hide anything, I thought you said this was all above board?" Patrick smirks.

"It was," Art defends, standing up and reaching a hand out to help Patrick, "but it's not going to look very innocent, that's all."

Patrick takes it, letting Art drag him into a standing position, laughing, "didn't feel very innocent either."

Art shrugs, feeling a little more relaxed now he's at least partially got it out of his system. He's still hard but once he has a cold shower he'll calm down.

They decide to use the shower in the clubhouse next to the court. It's a small building, basically an oversized shed, with a few lockers, a bench, and a smattering of spare tennis equipment. It only has one shower, and they usually just head back to the house to clean up.

It feels more convenient to use it this time, to get Patrick cleaned up and Art calmed down before they grab all their stuff to head back to the house.

Patrick tries to lure Art into the shower with him, "it's so much more efficient to do it together, and better for the environment. Do you even care about the polar bears at all?" but Art knows it's a test of temptation that he would definitely fail.

Maybe if he can go without an orgasm he'll be able to twist the blame on Patrick still. If the need arises. Hopefully they can head back to the house and be waiting innocently on the couch when Tashi returns, so neither of them will have to take the blame for anything.

Patrick hasn't mentioned what Art said, maybe he didn't hear it and Art's certainly not going to ask him about it.

He sits on the bench, facing away from Patrick showering because he's meant to be calming down. Except now he's thinking about it. Good girl. And Patrick coming right after. Where the fuck did that even come from?

Art had almost finished himself, his hips pressing against the rough of the court. It was kind of humiliating, that he got off on it so much. He hadn't even intended to say it. A familiar combination of shame and arousal swirl together in his stomach.

That fucking skirt.

He never should've made that bet.

It's just he didn't anticipate getting so worked up. He can't let Patrick wear that again. He also can't go without it. He got one thing out of his system but his head is still brimming with ideas.

He's supposed to be calming down but his dick strains as hard as ever against his shorts. Jerking off should be fine right? If he has no contact with Patrick whilst he's doing it? It might be bad for his health to hold it in, Tashi can't be mad at him for caring about his health, right?

Yeah, it makes enough sense in his head that he's already bringing a hand over his crotch, sighing in relief.

Patrick turns the water off, and Art hears him step out.

Patrick could always help out as visual aid, as long as he doesn't touch Art. The skirt is still here, and really it's only fair Art gets to cum too.

"Maybe I should get off," he voices, "it might be suspicious if I'm hornier than you are."

Patrick snorts like he knows it's bullshit, but he indulges nonetheless, "I wish you'd said this before I showered but sure, that sounds right to me. What can I do for you?"

"You can't touch me but maybe I can just look at you?" Art suggests, uncertain, still pressing himself over his shorts.

"You want me to just stand here while you stare at me and jerk off?" Patrick laughs in amusement, "oh, Art, I'm flattered."

"Not just stand there, I thought maybe you could put it back on?" He asks, hopeful and trying to hide his shame.

"Put what back on?" Patrick plays dumb.

Art groans, "the fucking skirt, and you know that's what I meant."

Patrick grins, reaching for the skirt where he'd chucked it on the floor unceremoniously.

"Well, I'm not putting those panties back on, so it will have to be commando this time," Patrick tells him, stepping into the skirt and pulling it up, zipping once it's around his waist.

"That's fine, that's, yeah, fine," Art struggles out, rubbing harder at himself and he needs more, "it's fine to touch ourselves, don't you think?"

"You know the rules, you do what feels right," Patrick just shrugs, not giving Art the easy way out.

He tries to just keep touching himself over the fabric but Patrick is there, only in the skirt and it's setting him alight again. For some reason the skirt feels more scandalous than just staring at him fully naked.

Art finally pulls himself out of his shorts, precum dripping from his neglected dick. Patrick eyes it appreciatively.

"Should I be posing for you?" Patrick asks, half joking.

"Stand with your hands against the wall," Art says too quick, knowing exactly what he wants.

Patrick looks delightfully surprised at how fast he answers, and about how specific he is. He follows the order with a grin, turning to the wall of lockers, resting his hands against them, slightly bent as he sticks his ass out.

Fuck. That was a bad idea.

Before his brain catches up, Art finds himself behind Patrick.

"I'm still not touching," Art reassures, even though Patrick hadn't asked.

He stands an inch behind him, dick in hand, staring at the way the skirt falls over his ass. He strokes himself slowly, trying to keep his distance. God, he wants to push the skirt up and jerk off until he comes all over Patrick's skin and the skirt at the same time.

He slides his hand up and down his shaft a little faster, “want to cum all over your ass like this.”

Patrick hums, “and that’s allowed?”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything to each other. You’re standing and I’m jerking off, two separate things,” Art explains, “if when I cum, it accidentally lands on you, we can’t blame ourselves. You want it don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Patrick breathes out, “still wish you hadn’t made me shower first.”

“Hmm, you are really clean right now,” Art looks him over, skin still damp from the spray of water.

“And you want to dirty me up again, right?” Patrick teases.

Art does. Badly. He wants to get him all filthy. He also wants something else. Art's mouth is watering again. And Patrick had just showered. He's so clean right now.

He moves a little closer.

"You just said no touching," he smirks at Art over his shoulder.

"I won't," Art promises, "not with my hands."

He lowers himself to his knees, slowly.

"What are you doing?" Patrick's breath hitches.

"It's fine, I'm only using my mouth, and you already came so you're not getting off," Art justifies, reaching a hand to push the skirt up.

"Right," Patrick nods, "except you are literally using your hands right now."

"It's fine as long as I'm not touching your dick or fingering you, and you've got the skirt on so you're basically dressed," Art's definitely waffling at this point.

"I'm starting to think you might not actually understand these rules," Patrick teases, "the excuses are getting real flimsy, dude."

"Who fucking cares?" Art finally gives in, bringing one hand to his own dick as his other goes to Patrick's ass, spreading him open so he can get his tongue at Patrick's rim.

Patrick moans in shock, swearing under his breath. Art swirls his tongue around his hole, jerking himself off at the same time. He doesn't know what it is about the skirt, but it makes him have this crazy urge to get his mouth on Patrick any way he can. Suddenly becoming the hottest thing he can imagine, just pushing the skirt away as he rims Patrick underneath it.

“Fuck, you never do this,” Patrick sighs.

“Yes, I do,” Art pulls back to reply, a little indignantly.

“Not like this,” and Patrick’s sort of right.

Art has done this a few times, got his mouth on Patrick’s hole, but usually as a way to tease him. To get Patrick worked up before he fucks him, if he’s feeling like he wants to drag it out. If Tashi wants to make Patrick squirm, she’ll direct Art into it as she touches Patrick everywhere except where he really wants.

This is different. He doesn’t even have a goal in mind. It’s not like Patrick's going to get that desperate since he already finished recently. It’s just Art couldn’t fucking help himself. Without thought he just wanted to sink to his knees and taste him, make Patrick feel good just because.

“You don’t have to,” Patrick tells him, “might be a while before I finish.”

“I know,” he does, and he doesn’t care, “I just want to, need to.”

He licks fervently, a circle around then presses in with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck,” Patrick gasps out, not quite hard yet but Art’s sure he’s on his way.

Art keeps going, tonguing in and out, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

“Art,” Patrick is shaky, “I don’t think we can justify this one to Tashi.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Art repeats, giving him a bite to the ass, “she won’t know.”

“I think that’s the wrong answer,” a voice calls out and Art falls backwards trying to move away from Patrick, tucking his dick back in his shorts even though it’s too late.

“Shit,” Patrick removes his hands from the wall, turning to the doorway, “Tashi.”

She’s standing there, hands on hips, looking fucking gorgeous, obviously. She’s got a navy dress on, it’s one of the more casual ones in her collection, it buttons down the front and the hem sits just below the knee.

“Who’s responsible for all this then?” she glares between them both.

Patrick doesn’t say anything but Art immediately defends, “it was Patrick.”

He turns to look down at Art, “you fucking snake.”

He can’t feel too guilty, it’s not like Patrick had been silent out of loyalty to Art, it’s just that he was never as bothered about defending himself, never really trying that hard to get out of trouble. Often wanting to do the opposite, in fact.

“Snake, yes,” Tashi speaks slow, looking at Art, “and a fucking liar too.”

“I’m not,” Art tries and it makes Tashi laugh.

“Really, because from where I was standing it seemed like Patrick was the one who had enough sense to think about the rules, even with your tongue in his ass,” Art can see Patrick grin a little at Tashi’s words, “meanwhile, you were the one saying ‘who fucking cares?’”

Shit. Had she been standing there that long?

Art can’t even say anything, just sitting there, boner tenting his shorts still.

“Although, I’m sure he’s not entirely innocent either,” Tashi walks over to Patrick, feeling at the skirt, “why are you wearing this?”

“I lost a bet,” Patrick shrugs at her, amused now that the surprise has worn off.

“Why do I get the feeling that you made a bet that you would purposely lose, because you knew he’d cave seeing you in a skirt?” Tashi says to Patrick.

He smirks, “no, I wish I'd thought of it but this was also all him.”

Tashi for a moment seems impressed, looking at him vaguely proudly before her face shifts back to stern.

“That’s two strikes, Art. You’re not doing very well today, are you?” she tilts her head at him, “what did you think you were going to achieve by intentionally sabotaging yourself?”

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it would be funny, I didn’t realise it would make me so…” he trails off, “I just wanted to embarrass him.”

“Right, because Patrick is famously easy to embarrass,” she snorts, and she’s absolutely right, he doesn’t know what was going through his head to think that Patrick would actually feel any type of shame from wearing a skirt, “and you seriously thought you wouldn’t get turned on by it? Are you stupid or just lying again?”

Art just ducks his head, face flushed.

Patrick laughs, “I think he was genuinely surprised about how horny he got.”

She looks down at the skirt again, thumbing the fabric, “so, what exactly were the rules for this punishment?”

“Loser has to wear it for one full set,” Patrick informs, letting her play with the material.

“And how far did you get?” Tashi asks, knowing that there was no way they actually managed it.

“Three games before Art was shoving me down on the tennis court and having his way with me,” Patrick grins, and Tashi’s eyes light up too.

She eyes Art again, “so you can’t even follow your own rules, huh?”

Art still doesn’t know what to say other than, “I tried.”

Tashi ignores it, “and you’re telling me that you’d already disobeyed me by fucking before that little scene I walked in on.”

“We didn’t technically fuck,” Patrick starts.

“We were good, we followed the rules,” Art interjects.

Tashi looks to Patrick for confirmation, he nods, “yeah, we were fully clothed, no touching, just his mouth.”

“I’m pretty sure I banned blowjobs,” she raises an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t a blowjob, I had underwear on the whole time,” Patrick smiles wide, “and Art didn’t even cum.”

“Jesus Christ,” she pinches the bridge of her nose, and looks over at Art, “and you still haven’t cum yet?”

He shakes his head and she nods in approval.

“That’s good,” Tashi thinks for a moment, “I think you should both finish the bet.”

“What?” Art asks from the floor.

“A chance for you to redeem yourself, prove that you can stick to your word,” she watches his blank face, “c’mon get up.”

He scrambles up quickly, still uncertain, “are you sure?”

“Yep,” she says, curtly, turning to Patrick, “you get dressed, and then both of you get out there and finish playing the full set.”

Patrick grabs the shirt he’d been wearing earlier, putting it on immediately, “alright.”

Tashi eyes his skirt, “when I say ‘get dressed’, that includes underwear.”

“Well, mine are kind of ruined from earlier,” he looks way too pleased with himself, “I’m happy to go without.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip, “no, you really should wear underwear with a skirt like that.”

Then Tashi does something which makes Art’s entire brain short circuit. She reaches under her dress, pulling down her panties, stepping out of them gracefully as she takes them off. She holds them out to Patrick, “here, you can borrow mine.”

What the fuck.

Art gets at least some satisfaction from the way Patrick seems just as affected as he is, Patrick stumbling on his words, “I, how, what?”

“Go on, you put them on the same as any other pair of underwear,” she’s smiling big, extremely pleased with their reactions, slightly condescending in her tone.

“Are they going to fit?” Art asks, and it feels like his ears are ringing with how dizzy it’s making him.

“It doesn’t matter,” she faces Patrick, “you’ll make it work, yeah?”

He nods at her, still in a slight daze. Taking the pair and stepping into them, he’s not as graceful as Tashi, needing to put an arm against the wall for balance. He manages to get them on but the skirt covers them before Art can get a proper look.

“Show us,” Art can’t stop himself saying.

“Not yet,” Tashi orders, and Art sighs.

He tries to imagine it. The pair isn’t Tashi’s tiniest or the most lacy in her collection, they’re what she would consider casual, but Art would still call sexy. They’re navy, matching her dress, the front is made of cotton which is a good thing, much more forgiving to stretch over Patrick’s cock. God, he must be straining against it still. The material covering his ass is lace, just about see through. Art can’t fucking do this.

Tashi is walking to the doorway, Patrick following, but Art just stays planted still.

“Tashi,” he pleads, “I can’t.”

She looks back at him, not giving him any pity, just smiling at him, “you can, and you will.”

In other words: you made your bed, now lie in it.

Standing on the other side of the net from Patrick feels even worse than before. He was already horny beyond belief before even stepping foot on the court and now he’s got Tashi sat on the sidelines watching them both. Patrick seems to have recovered from the shock and is now back to moving around the court like he fucking owns it. Like he’s never felt hotter.

Art feels like he blacks out the entire first game, Patrick is serving and he’s trying to hit back but honestly he’s not sure he’s even on the planet anymore. He keeps getting glimpses of the blue lace under the skirt. It had felt impossible when it was Patrick wearing his briefs, but it being Tashi’s panties is infinitely worse.

Again he needs to bend Patrick over, push the panties to the side and fuck him. He needs to get under Tashi’s dress and eat her out. He can’t work out the logistics of it, how he can fuck Patrick whilst also having Tashi in his mouth. Maybe if he lays down on his back, Patrick could ride him and Tashi could sit on his face? But then he wouldn’t be able to see Patrick in a skirt falling apart on his dick. He wants and needs and can’t have.

Patrick in panties. Patrick in Tashi’s clothes. Patrick in lace. Tashi sat with nothing on under her dress.

He can’t breathe. He needs to be put down.

The score is 40:0, and Patrick’s throwing the ball up to serve.

Art tries, he really does, he actually manages to hit the ball but it sails right into the net. Patrick wins another game.

“Nice form,” Tashi is calling out at him.

“Thought you hated my serve,” Patrick raises an eyebrow at her.

“I do,” she very obviously rakes her eyes up and down Patrick’s body, biting her lip as part of her performance. It’s a stupid innuendo. Art’s dick twitches.

They both grin at each other. How can they be so playful about this while Art feels like he’s going to bite a hole through his cheek.

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” Patrick points his racket at her in a joking accusation.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she shrugs, slouching back in the chair, spreading her legs wider, keeping her eyes on Patrick.

“See how she objectifies me,” Patrick’s addressing him, but Art can’t possibly respond, he just stands there looking between them like a deer in the headlights. It makes them both laugh.

“Woah, it really is that bad,” Tashi tilts her head at him in amusement, “it’s your serve, Art.”

He nods, taking a ball from his pocket. He can do this. He clings onto the guise of playing a tennis match like a lifeline. Just think about tennis. Nothing else.

He plays minutely better, but still loses, 30:40 this time. He probably only gets those points because now Patrick’s distracted too, trying to catch a glimpse up Tashi’s dress.

Patrick’s up to serve again, and if he wins this game it will all be over. Art will be put out of his misery. He’ll also lose to Patrick, six games to his zero.

Again he tries to pull it together, and Tashi’s been calling out to him too, encouraging him. Except it doesn’t work because everytime he looks over at her he just starts thinking about how she doesn’t have any panties on. Then when he looks away he’s got Patrick in front of him, making him think about how Patrick does have panties on. It’s honestly torturous.

He manages to get it together for one second, remembering Patrick’s backhand is a little weaker than his forehand. He hits a ball to Patrick’s left, and it works because his backhand isn’t precise enough, and the ball flies out as he hits it too hard. 40:15.

Tashi must notice what he’s done, she gives him a little nod of approval.

“Patrick, I want you to win on a backhand,” she calls out to him, “you’ll get a treat if you do.”

Fuck, okay. If Patrick wins the next point, he’s won the set. If he wins it with a backhand, he’ll also get a reward. Art has to at least try to stop it.

Patrick serves, and Art puts all the will he has left into hitting it back. It’s a powerful shot, it flies towards the back corner on Patrick’s right. He’d have to run pretty fast to get it anyway, and he’ll definitely have to be fast if he wants to make it a backhand.

Inexplicably, Patrick manages it, darting sideways quick enough to get on the other side of the ball, hitting a backhand. The speed of his movement and the force of him skidding to a stop makes the skirt fly up. Art is fucked. The ball soars towards him, just about making it over the net, landing in before bouncing right past Art. It’s over.

He watches Patrick drop his racket, turning to face Tashi, bowing to her. She grins, beckoning him with her finger. Art just watches.

Patrick stands in front of Tashi, she smiles at him, “give me a twirl.”

He snorts, but does it, spinning around so the skirt fans out, “cute,” Tashi comments.

Cute is one word for it. Art has the urge to start gnawing at Patrick’s leg.

“So what’s my treat?” Patrick asks, and Tashi spreads her legs wider, pulling up the material of her dress a little further.

He gets the idea, lowering himself to his knees. Art watches Patrick kiss up Tashi’s legs, pressing his lips at the soft brown of her inner thigh. He doesn’t know who he wants to be more. To have his lips against Tashi or to have Patrick’s against his own thighs. Or maybe he wants a secret third thing (to plow into Patrick from behind and watch as he eats Tashi out).

Art grinds his teeth, making himself ask, “can I?”

He doesn’t ask for anything specific. Doesn’t know what he’s allowed. Just wants something.

“You can watch, for now,” Tashi gestures for him to come closer.

For now. He can work with that.

Art doesn’t know where to stand, next to Tashi so he can look down at the sight of Patrick on his knees? No. He moves behind, getting to look at Patrick’s ass, and to see Tashi’s face.

Patrick adjusts his position, leaning forward into Tashi so he’s more on all fours than just his knees, except his hands grab at her outer thighs pulling her cunt closer to his mouth. When he finally gets a tongue on her, her eyes flutter shut for a second, before opening to look at Art. Again he’s paralysed with making a decision. He can’t pick where to look.

He eyes Tashi’s face, relaxing with pleasure. Then trails down to Patrick’s head buried between her thighs, and then down again. The whole reason he’s in this predicament in the first place.

The skirt does nothing to cover him up now, and Art stares at the lace clothing his ass, also not doing much to keep Patrick’s skin hidden. From this angle he can see the way Patrick’s dick spills out of the fabric.

Art’s fists clench at either side, not allowed to do anything but stare. He enjoys watching a bit, it’s an infuriatingly arousing view, but that’s the problem. His patience has already been worn down to knife’s edge, he’s spent all afternoon inundated with arousing views.

Tashi must see the desperate look on his face but she doesn’t say anything, she just puts a leg over Patrick’s shoulder, and a hand on the back of his head. She sighs at the new angle.

It’s Patrick who takes pity on him, without even seeing his face.

He pulls back from Tashi to ask, “can Art join?” and when she hums uncertainly he adds, “he did come up with the skirt idea.”

Tashi looks at Art, then down at the skirt, then up again, “yeah, alright, he can join.”

Art moves quick, getting to his knees behind Patrick. He’s about to pull his shorts down when Tashi stops him

“What are you doing?” she asks and he just stares at her blankly. He doesn’t really know, other than that he needs his dick to touch something right fucking now, “did you think you were going to fuck him? We don’t even have any lube. And did you think you’ve earned that?”

“I don’t know,” he sounds desperate but he’s given up caring.

“Keep it in your pants,” she orders, “you’re allowed to dry hump and that’s it.”

He furrows his eyebrows at her, and she gets stern, “don’t give me that look. You’re lucky I’m allowing anything.”

Fine. It’s something at least. And he can grab Patrick’s ass as much as he likes. He does just that, rubbing his hand over it, feeling the lace, and the warmth of his skin. He brings his hands to Patrick’s hips and presses his crotch against him. Sighing in relief at the pressure against his dick, imagining that he was actually sinking inside him right now.

He can hear the sounds of Patrick’s tongue lapping at Tashi’s pussy, it makes him thrust his hips forward. The movement pushing Patrick forward too, and Art can’t stop thrusting against him.

“Art,” Tashi scolds, “stop that.”

“I can’t,” he scowls and she glares at him, he slows down, “fine.”

He grips Patrick’s hips tight, probably leaving fingerprints, keeping Patrick still as he rubs against him. Still thrusting but now Patrick doesn’t move with him.

He could probably cum like this, could do it very easily. It just doesn’t feel fair. Yes he broke some rules but he never even got to finish from any of it, so really, doesn’t he deserve a bit more than to pathetically hump at Patrick’s ass.

Tashi’s letting out more and more sighs, and he can hear Patrick moaning against her, trying to push back against Art, fighting against his strong grip.

“C’mon Tashi, he clearly wants me to fuck him,” Art pleads.

“And whose fault is it that you can't?” she asks with an arched brow, “if you had prepared then maybe you would’ve brought lube down here.”

“I’ll go and get some now,” he bargains, although he’s not sure he could pry himself away.

“No, you don’t deserve it, you broke the rules,” she smiles, mean, “if you had behaved then maybe you would be inside him right now.”

“If I had behaved, we wouldn’t even be in this position in the first place,” he snaps.

Tashi doesn’t say anything back because it’s sort of true. If Art had been good there would be no skirt. No tennis court sex at all tonight.

Patrick pulls back, “just one finger, I need something.”

“Fine,” Tashi relents, bringing his head back against her.

She gives Art the go ahead with her eyes, and he’s sucking at his own finger, wetting it. He stops humping to pull the blue panties to the side, circling the damp finger before pushing in.

Patrick groans, and the vibration of it makes Tashi moan quietly too. Art keeps pumping the finger in and out, still humping at Patrick, but just more at his thigh now rather than his ass. It’s better than how he pictured it, Patrick dressed like this, clenching around his finger and moaning into Tashi’s cunt.

Patrick doubles his efforts, licking at her faster, and Art can tell she’s getting close. He’s just so good like this, taking Art and pleasing Tashi. He can tell that Patrick wants more from the way he’s pushing back on Art’s finger. Tashi’s eyes flutter shut from pleasure, and Art takes the opportunity to slip another finger into Patrick. He would've gotten away with it if Patrick didn't let out this loud, surprised, moan.

Tashi’s eyes open, first looking down at Patrick, then at Art. He smiles at her innocently, but she notices the two fingers now pumping inside Patrick.

“Did I say you were allowed to do that?” she asks, rhetorically.

“He just looks so good, he deserved it, I could tell he needed it,” Art defends, not stopping his fingering.

Art’s a little shocked when Tashi laughs.

“God, what is it about this skirt? It’s got you misbehaving, and it’s got Patrick being good,” she strokes a hand through his curls.

Art raises an eyebrow, because Patrick hasn’t exactly been good. Just better than Art.

Tashi smiles, correcting herself, “alright, well it makes you want to treat him like he’s good anyway.”

Yeah. Yeah that’s exactly it.

Patrick must start sucking at her clit because she’s making these telltale signs that she’s close, her hand gripped tight in his hair.

She grinds her hips up against his face, “fuck, makes you want to call him a good girl,” then she’s shoving Patrick’s face against her, trembling as she comes.

Oh fuck. It takes everything in him not to come too. Tashi breathes out, slumping against the chair, almost boneless.

Tashi pulls Patrick away from her before she gets overstimulated, resting his head against her thigh. Patrick grins, “you guys really are similar.”

“What?” Tashi looks between them both, this alert searching look she gets when she’s missing information, Art stays silent so she looks down at Patrick again, “I don’t get it.”

Art fucks his fingers into Patrick faster, hoping to stop him talking, he moans but carries on.

“Art called me that too,” he says all smug, “turned bright red after.”

Art flushes.

“Yeah, he looks pretty red right now too,” Tashi gives him this delighted look, “this skirt thing really has you fucked, huh?” which is unfair considering she’d also said the same thing.

“Patrick’s the one who came immediately when I said it,” Art argues.

“That’s not a shock, I’m only human,” Patrick chuckles, “what’s interesting is how much the two of you apparently want me to be your good girl.”

He wonders if Tashi feels as embarrassed as he does. Probably not.

“Art you can take your dick out,” Tashi’s telling him, and he wastes no time removing his fingers from Patrick and pulling his shorts and underwear down at once.

“Look, I can take a lot, but there’s no way I can take Art’s dick right now without some lube or a hell of a lot more stretching,” Patrick jokes.

“He’s not going to fuck you, I just want him to come on you,” both boys moan a little, “knew you’d like that.”

Art doesn’t know what to do with himself now he can actually touch his dick against Patrick, he just grabs his hips rubbing his length on him. Already so close.

“You can touch yourself too, Patrick,” Tashi strokes at his hair, and Art watches Patrick reach into his underwear, pulling himself out.

He starts stroking himself quickly, “I’m almost there, already.”

“That’s okay, you’ve been so good already,” Tashi says sweetly and it makes Art shiver when she says good, on edge and full of shame, “I think Art’s close too.”

She just keeps talking, “look how pretty Patrick is for you, how he presents himself for you,” she says to Art, “what else can he do to get you to come?”

“I don’t know,” Art can barely think, reaching a hand around himself now.

“Arch your back a little more, Patrick,” she orders, and Patrick does, sticking his ass out even more, “and do you want him to come at the same time as you?”

Art nods frantically, not really understanding why Tashi's giving him what he wants all of a sudden.

“C’mon Patrick, you’ve got to hurry up if you want to come at the same time,” she leans down to whisper, but Art can still hear, “I know Art’s the one losing his mind but don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you get off on it too.”

"I get off on the fact that me wearing a skirt and panties gets you both off so much," he insists.

"Right, you get nothing out of this," She smirks down at him, "doesn't affect you at all to think about Art coming on you while you're in my lacy underwear, and a fucking mini skirt."

Patrick moans pressing his face into Tashi's thigh.

"I should buy you your own set, I think you'd like that, maybe get Art to pick it out" she then looks up at Art, "Patrick would wear it for you, he'd be so good."

And Art gets what Tashi's doing. She's trying to get him to say it. Art's not going to, he has a different idea instead.

"You guys are fucking obsessed with getting me in girls underwear," Patrick manages to say, "think Art would die if I had a whole outfit on."

"No, I'd be ready next time," Art keeps jerking himself, now determined, "I'd fuck you properly, and Tashi would get her strap and she'd fuck you too."

Patrick groans again and Tashi's eyes snap up to meet Art's, an understanding passing between them.

"I think you're the one that's obsessed, Patrick," Tashi looks down at him, "we could do it just like this, except I'd shove my dick down your throat while Art takes you from behind."

Patrick bites at Tashi's thigh.

Art lets go of himself, reaching around to replace Patrick's hand with his own, jerking him off. He can't bite at her anymore, his mouth falling open.

"We'd ruin you, ruin all your outfits and keep buying more," he leans himself over Patrick, jerking him off and grinding at his ass again, "and you'd let us, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," Patrick moans into Tashi's lap, "gonna come."

"Art are you close too?" Tashi checks.

"Yeah, just want him to finish first, won't come on him until he does," Art keeps stroking.

"Patrick, you want to come?" She asks him.

"Already fucking said I did," Patrick grumbles out.

"Come on, don't be rude, I know you want to be good," she strokes his hair, "say it to me."

Patrick keeps his mouth shut.

"Patrick I'm going to stop touching you if you don't say it," Art warns, slowing down his movements.

"Want to be good," he mumbles into Tashi's thigh, it's a start but not quite what they want.

Art speeds up again, looking at Tashi, she whispers to Patrick, "a good what?"

He groans, shaking his head as much as he can in this position.

"C'mon Patrick, I know you want to finish, I can get you over the edge if you just tell us what you are," he squeezes Patrick's dick not moving his hand.

Patrick still doesn't speak, so Art swipes a thumb over his tip, it's too sensitive and Patrick moans but he won't come from it, not without Art jerking him at the same time.

Tashi watches with a grin, as Art swipes again making him whine. It's too much.

"What are you?" Tashi asks, and Art thumbs the head once more.

Patrick whimpers, then "I'm a good girl," he gasps out, and Art immediately resumes jerking.

Patrick thrusts forwards, spurting all over Art's hands, drooling in Tashi's lap as he trembles with it.

Art brings the hand, covered in Patrick's fluid to his own dick. He pushes up the skirt a little, then it only takes a few swipes and he's coming. White ropes shooting over the skirt, the lace underwear, and Patrick's ass.

"Fuck," Art gasps out, the sight of it all sending another wave of pleasure through him, a little more dripping out of him onto the blue panties.

Art falls back catching his breath, and Patrick just stays with his head against Tashi. Probably hiding his face. There are some things which still embarrass him.

Him and Patrick both breathe deeply for a while, Tashi looking pleased with her work.

She eventually breaks the silence, "what was the bet even about?"

Patrick mumbles out, "I don't remember anymore."

Art laughs, "it was about Jaws."

"Movie mashup?" Tashi asks.

"Yeah," Art smiles, "honest to God, we were just going to watch a movie while we waited for you."

Tashi laughs too, "we should watch one now."

"Mashup on three?" Patrick lifts his head up finally, then counts down, "1...2...3..."

Patrick picks Rocky, Art goes for Little Shop of Horrors, and Tashi lands on Bride of Frankenstein.

It's a weird selection, with a somewhat perfect mashup.

"Rocky Horror Picture Show?" Tashi suggests.

"It is on theme," Art snorts.

"Yeah, maybe we can get some inspiration for Patrick's next outfit," Tashi teases and Patrick groans.

"This is unfair, does nobody remember how embarrassing it was that Art got so horny he forgot how to play tennis?" Patrick complains.

"No, all I remember is you calling yourself a good girl and drooling in my lap over a handjob," Tashi jokes.

Art enjoys the fact that the teasing is off him for now, even though he knows he's probably never going to be able to live down the worst set of tennis he's ever played in his life.

All because he thought it would be funny to force Patrick to wear a skirt.

They put on the movie, but end up falling asleep on the couch before it's over. Patrick goes first and before Art drifts off himself he can practically see the cogs turning in Tashi's head, plotting something.

He can't help but feel they've both given her a secret weapon, a cheat code to get them under her thumb. He smiles to himself as he's pulled into deep sleep.

----

an: um. idk what the hell just happened guys. sorry about this one, hope you enjoyed :) part 2 with tashi buying patrick some proper lingerie.... I will start working on that

#truly cannot understand the length of this one!!!#im starting to overthink this so im just posting it. can't look at it anymore #i did have a lot of joy writing this though... of course i did it's patrick in a skirt #and i love art's insane brain yayy #challengers #throuple #smut #fic #starts out artrick then ends throuple #don't worry. i would never leave out tashii

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suiana · 2 years ago

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✎ yandere! loser headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― stalking, manipulation, delusional yandere, mentions of p0rn, slight nsfw, stockholm syndrome (?) etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! loser who's basically a shut in, rarely coming out of his apartment except for compulsory lessons at university. he's a huge loser, shit talking others during games, messy apartment, dark eye bag circles, always ordering delivery for his food... he's practically the embodiment of the word loser! if it weren't for his rich parents he would not survived a day past his 18th birthday.

✎ yandere! loser who sees you as his salvation, the only hope in his dark life. through your streams he found purpose in his life - to be with you. and when he found out you went to the same university as him? he just knew that you were meant to be with him! why else would you speak his username so lovingly every time he donates to you?

✎ yandere! loser who's obviously a big virgin. I mean, what would you expect from a guy who hasn't held a girl's hand since he was 5? plus he doesn't even come out of his apartment! the most experience he has is from the pornography he used to watch. don't worry! he doesn't watch it anymore! because now all he has to do is imagine you sucking him off and he cums instantly. he's a true loser. but he's your loser, yours! :D

✎ yandere! loser who stalks you both online and physically. at this point he knows more about you than all of your friends do, maybe even you yourself! he's also the type of guy to like something you posted 69 weeks ago just because he liked how you looked in it. but does one post from long ago matter when he literally spam likes everything you post?

✎ yandere! loser who tries to rizz you up with tips and tricks he read online from sites like Reddit. he read all those success stories in the Reddit comment section so surely it must work out for him too, right?! wrong. because when he tried to pin you against a wall and call you 'baby', you only snorted in laughter, calling him funny and walking off with your friends. why didn't it work?! it was from user @/masterrizzler3000 on Reddit so it should've worked! he's sad now :(

✎ yandere! loser who isn't actually that bad looking. if he put in some more effort into his appearance he would've been a solid 10/10 in your opinion. but unfortunately he doesn't and that brings him to a 6.5/10. don't worry, there's something about his loser self that makes him cuter :) and that's when you decided to give him a chance and go out with him. best worst mistake of your life.

✎ yandere! loser who's actually a pretty good gaslighter and manipulator, so good that you actually agreed to date him. though he isn't aware that he's actually manipulating you so to him, you're falling for him because you genuinely love him. looks like religiously watching monster and death note worked for him. and that kids, is the story of how I (21m) landed myself a solid 100/10 with my loser self!!! -him, probably.

✎ yandere! loser who believes wholeheartedly that you and him are meant to be. sure, you may be a little more lifeless than you used to be, he's not sure why, but you love him! you tell him that every morning after you wake up in his bed! the soft 'i love you's' and 'im yours' from your sweet mouth are practically proof that you love him too, right?! fret not, for he loves you too ♡

✎ "please! I'll die without you-! you... you won't let that happen, would you? haha... of course you won't. you love me after all ♡"

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere #male yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere loser #yandere loser headcanons #yandere loser x reader

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sinning-23 · 1 year ago

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Parenthood

OPLA Dilfs with their s/o and their moody teen! Uhhh idk what possessed me to write this but here we go!

D/N= Daughters Name

S/N = Sons Name

Shanks

-Your daughter is literally a witty bundle of joy! She's may not be moody but she definitely had a sarcastic air about her. (Shanks think she gets it from you a little bit)

-She's fast on her feet but also has her pouty moments, most of which occur when she’s told to complete her chores and she'd much rather pretend to steer the ship and watch the water for sea life.

-The most she'll do is roll her eyes and anger her eyebrows but will clear her throat when you use your mom stare on her to get her to 'fix her face'

-"Roll them again and they'll get stuck like that! Now go do what your father asked!" you snap, seeing her scurry away.

-She rarely gives Shanks attitude but when she does she tries to have it come across as joking.

-"(D/N), take these to-" "Sure dad I'll give you a hand.”

“……”

“I’m telling your mother” he chuckles, the color draining from her face.

“NO WAIT!”

Buggy

-Your son is literally a menace and just as moody as his father, if not worse. You have to deal with constant attitude, eye rolling, and the frequent mumble under the breath.

-Buggy usually catches it and is quick to flick the boys forehead and that also results in a scuffle between the two.

-"Tell your husband to get off my DICK!" S/N shouts as Buggy chases him around the arena.

"WATCH YOU MOUTH YOU LITTLE SHIT! And quite trying to turn your mother on me!" Buggy shouts back, various body parts launching at the blue haired teen.

-Sometims it feels like youre dealing with two children because in the end each of them has and ear being pinched between your delicate fingers.

-"S/N, watch your mouth. Just because you’re a sailor doesn't mean yo need to swear like one. Buggy, darling." You begin sweetly before pinching harder,

"STOP PROVOKING OUR SON TO ANGER!"

Mihawk

-The twins have...rather manageable attitudes when they’re reminded to calm down.

-Hell, when they were born they’d practically sneer at you if their feeding or nap time was off by a milisecond.

-Your son and daughter look closer to you accept the obvious yellow eyes. (You didn't really stand a chance when it came to the eyes,)

-Your son is more subtle with his attitude, giving jabbs to his father while your daughter just flat out doesn't give a shit.

-One day, durring an outting to stock your home with more goods, the twins noticed how everyone that lived on the village you currently reside don sort of....stared and judged them. of course they could care less but tey couldn't help but shoot insults in quiet whispers.

"She's not nearly as alluring to be this witless." S/N states, following behind you but keeping pace with his twin sister.

"If only her mother had swallowed." D/N adds.

You choke at that last one.

-Both you and Mihawk ge your fair share of attitude but all it tasks if the threat of an intense and bone breaking training sessions and all attitudes simply cease.

#x reader #one piece #reader is black #one piece live action #i don't care he's hot #headcannons #one piece x reader #opla #smut #hes so hot #shanks is a daddy #opla shanks x reader #one piece shanks x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy #buggy the clown x reader #opla mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #opla mihawk x reader

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ltadoriyuujl · 9 days ago

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blood on your jeans, blisters on our feet, a huge grin full of teeth

☆ twin holes in your body lead to twin holes in his neck and a tender moment in an unconventional location (AKA: trust hunters to fuck up a perfectly good moonlight date)

☆ werewolf!bakugou katsuki x vampire!reader, 2.6k words

☆ established relationship, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, gn!reader, a touch of religious imagery, they don't fuck but they get very close

☆ a/n: my contribution for katsuki's birthday that i totally got done on time. happy birthday to my favorite guy. crossposted on ao3

Each step felt like a struggle between his momentum and the mud, but his urgency won out every time. The ground was eager to soak up the first rain it had seen in weeks, making the earth beneath his feet warm and wet.

Meanwhile, you were indistinguishable from an ice sculpture in his arms.

You'd been cold to the touch for as long as he'd known you. A natural side effect of being a born member of the living dead. But this was different, more dire. Your skin was sallow at the best of times but you were growing waxier by the second, and the hands he knew could crush boulders without much effort grasped weakly at his shirt. The hem of his shirt and most of his pants were dark and stained, not from the rain or the muck, but from the precious little lifeblood you had to spare, the viscous liquid dribbling out of the two neat holes blown clear through your midsection.

He couldn't hear or smell the hunter anymore, though whether that was because he had genuinely lost them or simply due to the fact that his heart was thundering in his ears and his nose was full of you, he couldn't tell. It wasn't like it mattered either way. If the bastard caught up to him, you'd both be dead. If he didn't get you somewhere safe and put some blood back in your system soon, you'd tap out on him, and that was somehow the worse option.

You coughed, the sound rattling out of you, and it made the knots in his stomach tighten. The bleeding had slowed considerably from when you'd been shot, but it wasn't enough. Your supernatural healing factor could only work with what you had, and you weren't nearly old or strong enough to heal up point-blank shots from enchanted weapons on your own. He'd be damned if you died on him, because of him.

"Katsuki," you mumbled, the word quiet and half-garbled. He grunted in acknowledgment but didn't break his stride, eyes peeled for anything even remotely resembling a shelter. Then, like a beacon of divine providence, Katsuki spotted a spire jutting out in the distance. He immediately switched course, headed in that direction. A spire meant a house or a church, or at the very least something with half a goddamn roof.

"Katsuki," you tried again, voice firmer this time, "you should leave me. 'S not safe out here, go home."

You felt his growl in your bones before you heard it, the rough sound setting an ancient set of instincts on edge. "You've had a lot of stupid ideas," you could hear the snarl in his voice, "but that has to be your dumbest one yet. I'll chalk it up to delirium."

You opened your mouth to argue, but you couldn't choke any more words past the dryness in your throat. Pain and hunger danced an awful duet inside you, and it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. The only part of your brain not submerged in the fog of negative sensation was screaming at you to stop wasting energy, so you grit your teeth and closed your eyes, focusing instead on the frantic thrumming of Katsuki’s heart under your cheek.

The trees thinned and Katsuki could clearly discern the building as an old church. The walls and doors were so faded it was impossible to tell what the original colors could have been, even with his enhanced sight. But all the walls seemed intact and the roof had no glaring holes, so he couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not it was pretty.

He tore through the attached graveyard with little concern for the slumber of the dead, only determined to ensure you didn't join their ranks. Using a single broad shoulder as a battering ram, he burst through the door, barely managing to keep you both from crashing to the floor in his haste.

He kept his senses peeled for any hidden surprises and stumbled towards the pews closest to the door before dropping to his knees between them, trusting the ancient wood to keep the two of you hidden and cradling your body so you weren't jarred by the impact. For the first time since you'd gone down, Katsuki allowed himself to properly look at your face, and the sight that greeted him turned his stomach. It wasn't like you'd ever been the picture of health or vitality, but the blood loss had turned you into a wax figure of yourself, a cheap, fake imitation. It was wrong, deeply wrong, and for a terrifying moment, Katsuki thought this would be the last version of you he ever saw.

It hardly took a thought to extend the nails on his hands into claws, the neckline of his shirt shredding like paper under the wicked points. With as much care as his trembling hands could muster, he made a shallow cut in the skin of his neck and raised your head to it, grateful for the way your body twitched at the smell of blood.

Your eyes fluttered open, and then fixed themselves on the droplets rolling down onto his shoulder and collarbone. On instinct your fangs lengthened, and it took every last ounce of your dwindling self-restraint to stop yourself from lunging forward.

"'Suki," your voice was more rasp than anything, vocal cords parched and tongue heavy as lead. Still, even on death's doorstep you had stubbornness in spades. "I can't- I can't make it good. It'll hurt. I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

Katsuki snarled and forced your head closer, placing your lips directly against the wound. "I don't give a shit. Drink."

The command reverberated through you and your body reacted before your mind could, unhinging your jaw fully and driving fangs into flesh. Your teeth tore through skin and muscle, and the blood that flowed into your mouth was sweeter than any wine, purer than any spring water.

You weren't kidding. It hurt like a bitch. You were too weak and frenzied to employ the weird vampire magic that made being fed on feel like a body high. Every one of Katsuki's instincts was urging him to pry you off, to get away, but he dug his claws into the cracked wooden floor and endured.

Just as his vision began to blur at the edges, you ripped your mouth from his neck, throwing yourself backwards to put some distance between the two of you. Katsuki watched in morbid fascination and mounting relief as layers of fat, muscle and skin knit themselves together over the gunshot wounds until the only indication you'd been hurt at all was the holes in your top. He could feel the gashes on his neck mending as well, sped up by the combination of vampire magic and his own healing abilities. His eyes flicked up to meet your wild ones and for a moment, you just stared at each other, chests heaving and the air thick with the scent of blood.

The wave of relief abated, taking his adrenaline with it. He all but deflated, scrubbing his still-clawed hand over his face as the gauntlet of emotions he'd been suppressing, the terror, anger and despair, all came crashing down on him at once.

For all the years spent nipping at each other's heels and trading eye rolls and increasingly creative middle fingers from different sides of a grand hall, you had never seriously put your hands on him until tonight. The glade in the middle of the forest between vampire territory and wolf country had been your go-to spot since you both were children. The area was synonymous with safety in Katsuki's mind, considering only the most suicidal hunters would even risk venturing so deep in search of targets. He'd been at ease, distracted, and you'd sensed the threat before he could. The force with which you shoved him out of the way was enough to send him tumbling head over ass halfway across the clearing. After a few moments of belligerent cursing and spitting grass out of his mouth, his bearings returned in time to see you go down, the smoking barrel of a gun glinting in the moonlight from the treeline.

What happened immediately after was fuzzy at best, distorted by shock and fear. He might've howled, let out a sound deep and full of rage, or he might have simply bolted over and scooped you up before making a break for it.

"That was a stupid ass thing to do." His accusation echoed through the church, and you winced as though the reflected words physically struck you.

"You're one to talk. Letting a dying vampire feed on you was way more dangerous than my stunt." Using the back of your hand, you attempted to wipe some half-dried blood off your cheek but only really succeeded in smudging it. "Hunters must have deep pockets these days if they can afford to have expendable bullets made of blessed silver-"

"Don't joke about this! You could've-"

"Better me than you." You weren't yelling, but your voice drowned out his regardless. The glint in your eyes was steely, your lips set in a firm line. "You just proved it. Two direct shots of holy silver and all I needed was a drink. If they had hit you-" your voice wavered, and your fangs dug into your bottom lip as you tried to regain your composure. "You would've died of blood loss and silver poisoning and even ripping every hunter in the world apart limb from limb wouldn't bring you back. I wouldn't have been fast enough to get you back to your home in time for them to help you, so I did the next best thing."

You shuffled forwards, eating up the floor space between you and him until your knees were almost touching. Tentatively, you reached a hand out to cup his cheek, a soft smile gracing your lips when he didn't recoil. "You're not as invincible as you think you are, Katsuki." Your voice had lost its previous hardness, the edges of it blunted into something far more tender. "I don't want to face a world where you don't exist. Not yet, at least."

Only a few weak moonbeams managed to filter through the grimy window behind you, but they were enough to drape you in a halo of soft silver light. The whirlpool of conflicting emotions churning in Katsuki's stomach quieted as he took you in. Your wild hair and bloodstained mouth did nothing to distract him from the color and fullness returning to your face, the blood—his blood—coursing through your veins and warming you from the inside out.

You were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

He caved to his urges at last, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him. His embrace was ironclad, like if he squeezed hard enough you would sink into his chest and let him carry you in the safety of his ribcage forever, right next to his beating heart. Your surprised gasp melted into a soft laugh but you held him back just as tight, as though you'd slip away to somewhere he couldn't reach you if you let go.

After a few more minutes of holding you, Katsuki's hind brain was sufficiently disappointed with the fact that you weren't going to crawl under his skin and stay there. He pulled away slightly, just enough to study your face up close, and you tried your best not to squirm under his heated gaze.

"What?" you teased, "Do I have something on my face?"

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was steady, but the pleading undertone was impossible to miss. One of your hands made its way to his hair, toying with the soft strands while you pretended to think.

"I have blood all over my mouth."

Katsuki scoffed. "Yeah, my blood. I don't give a shit."

Your nose scrunched in distaste but you couldn't keep the laugh out of your voice. "You're gross."

"Look, are you gonna let me kiss you or-"

Your lips pressed softly to his, stealing the rest of his sentence away. It wasn't your first kiss together, or even your 50th, but kissing Katsuki was a novel experience no matter how many times you did it. He was so…alive, real and firm and full of a warmth you couldn't mimic even with a hundred liters of blood. The hand not in his hair came up to cup his jaw, his pulse thundering under your pinky finger. A groan rumbled out of his chest and into yours, large hands finding your hips to pull you impossibly closer. His tongue slipped past your parted lips and prodded at your fangs, wrenching a full body shudder from you. You could've spent eternity there, mouth molded against his and greedily basking in the heat of his body. His thumbs hooked themselves under the waistband of your pants and your stolen blood rushed south so fast you almost gasped. Only decades of honing your self-control granted you the presence of mind and sheer willpower it took to break the kiss and tilt your head away from him.

"Katsuki." You were shooting for playful but only managed to land on strained and slightly nervous. "I'm not fucking you in an abandoned church." You refused to look directly at him, knowing from experience that his flushed cheeks and blown pupils would shatter your already tenuous grasp on your resolve.

His chest heaved against yours, his breath grazed your neck, and his damned thumbs were still grazing your hipbones. "Why?" The slight rasp in his voice was deadly. "Too cliché?"

"Oh absolutely. Can you imagine? 'Two creatures of the night, locked in passionate embrace in a former house of God's light.' The universe might smite us for the audacity alone." Easier to joke and deflect than admit you were so drunk on him that if you let him lay you down you might eat him whole.

Thankfully, Katsuki seemed to recognize your turmoil and finally moved his hands, bringing them down to rest on your thighs (which, admittedly, wasn't much of an improvement, but at least he wasn't touching bare skin any longer). "I should get you home," he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. "Sun's gonna start coming up in about an hour and half." You had no idea if that was true considering your phone was long gone and you'd never gotten into the habit of wearing a watch, but Katsuki had a freaky sense for when dawn was approaching so you'd learned to trust his judgment on that front.

Still, neither of you moved, content to soak in the other's presence just a little longer. You ghosted your fingers over the spot where your bite mark had been, the smooth skin betraying nothing about what had transpired not even thirty minutes prior. A squeeze to your leg drew your gaze from his neck to the vermilion eyes you adored so much.

"I'll find them." At your quizzical eyebrow, Katsuki huffed and continued. "Bastard that shot you. I'll find them, even if it takes the rest of my damn life."

You hummed and tilted your head to press your smiling lips to his cheek. "You're so hot when you plan brutal revenge."

"I thought you said you weren't tryin' to fuck me here?"

"Are those 'fuck me' words?"

"Half the shit you say is."

You snort. "You really are a dog," you reply, and you hope he knows you mean it with all the affection of a thousand lifetimes.

#lovely divider from @/enchanthings #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #daisy writes!#happy birthday katsu

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