#s/i: whisp | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

revasserium · 1 year ago

Note

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

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randomgurl2326 · 2 months ago

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Next To My Wife

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: The one time Azriel let his two worlds collide…ALSO…Based off of this quote from EPIC The Musical: After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night/Next to my wife

Warnings: Blood, Torture

The dungeon is cold. Second only to the Winter Court. The sounds of a male’s cries and screams are music to the spymaster’s ears.

The cobalt siphons on the Illyrian warrior’s leathers shine bright down here. Like they knew what he’s doing and that he takes pleasure in it.

The male doesn’t let the guilt creep in. Not yet. Guilt is for the conscience. Conscience is for home. He can’t afford conscience at work. That’s a luxury only innocence can have…. His sweet girl, innocent—

No, he can’t think of her now. Never let the two worlds touch, is what he tells himself. Keep the innocent innocent. Keep the bloody bloody.

Never let them touch.

Azriel’s shadows envelop the faerie. The whisps talk animatedly as they watch their master work. Suggestions ring through his ears from the tiny shadows.

The whip, master, the whip.

No! No! Truth Teller, Master. Surely that will get the job done.

The shadowsinger grits his teeth and lets out a grainy, “Quiet.”

The shadows whispers lessen to a dull roar. Azriel’s shoulder’s tense as he speaks, “Tell me what you know about Beron Vanserra’s dealings with Hybern.”

The faerie hesitates for only a second before hardening his gaze and answering, “Fuck. You.”

The spymaster breaks two of the male’s fingers as a result of his defiance. Azriel tightens his grip on the faerie, “Wrong answer. Tell me before I rip out your fucking veins one by one.”

The faerie male cries out in pain. Finally submitting to the spymaster, “Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” The next one quieter, “I’ll tell you.”

Azriel presses down on the other male’s jugular, “I’m listening.”

“T-the High Lord wanted a deal,” the Illyrian senses the quiver in the faerie’s voice, “A-a protection deal o-or something, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

The dark whisps of shadows stir again, sensing a lull.

He’s lying, master.

He knows but doesn’t want to tell master.

If pretty girl were here she’d be able to—

Azriel squeezes his eyes shut at the mention of his girl. Don’t let the two worlds touch, he says to himself, leave the conscience at home. The spymaster’s eyes open once again, reminding him of where he is. What he’s doing.

Scarred hands press down harder on the male’s protruding neck, “Enough of the bullshit. Tell me what you know.”

The faerie winces, “S-security! Security… he wanted to trade Night Court secrets in exchange for security with Hybern. Beron wanted stability. He senses a war. I-I don’t know what secrets he was gonna share. I just know that they were heavy.”

The Illyrian’s shadows exert approval of the truth. Azriel grunts and twists the male’s arm backwards, pushing his leather boot clad foot down on his back and forcing his head down.

The shadowsinger smirks and leans down to the faerie’s ear, with a dark voice he says, “Thank you… But you’re no longer needed.”

He unsheathes Truth Teller and stabs it in the male’s shoulder blade. He waits a beat before slowly pulling it out. The agonizing cries of the faerie bounce through the otherwise quiet halls of the dungeon. His whimpers bring a twisted delight to the spymaster.

Once the dagger is fully removed, Azriel stands and gives one last stomp on the faerie’s foot for good measure.

“Someone will be here in the morning to either clean your remains or your wounds. Make sure not to bleed too much. I do like this dungeon.”

Azriel walks off and cleans Truth Teller with a rag nearby. Just as the Illyrian is about to exit, he hears the faerie’s pain-stricken voice, “After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night?”

Azriel stops at the exit and smirks. He doesn’t dignify the faerie with a glance as he says in his gruff baritone, “Next to my wife.”

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shizucheese · 10 months ago

Text

Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?

I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.

. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."

Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also

Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.

And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.

If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.

What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.

(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)

The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.

Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmp #tmp spoilers #tmapg #tmagp spoilers #magpod

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gpcwsl · 14 days ago

Note

Could you please Wirte Alessia Russo x reader where the Team is playing Truth or Dare or something

And Reader must kiss any Teammate idk and Alessia gets Really jealous (they are not in Relationship)

Warnings: sorry for changing it up, already did a spin the bottle fan fiction for Caitlin so I wanted to do something different. Not read through properly, kissing, making out.

Alessia Russo x Reader: stop staring.

My MasterList

When Leah fulled on BEGGED you to join the team’s night-in at her house you gave in. Leah and your friendship is like a circle that never ends. Your always honest to each other: if one of you doesn’t like the girl (or guy) the other brings home or dating you or Leah will fully tell the other. And, then the other will break it off. Laughter: both will laugh at anything the other says. Sometimes it will stick, and be an inside joke between the two of you. Which sometimes annoy the others but you two don’t give a shit. Your eachother’s bricks, supporting the building so it doesn’t fall.

You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be at your cozy, warm, not-so-chaotic, well tidied house. But, here you are. After some begging from Leah you are sat in her living room. Few others have left, need in to go somewhere or they are just tried. You wanted to join them and leave but Leah held you hostage the whole time. Leah, you, Alessia, Katie, Caitlin, Lia, Kyra and Beth are the last ones. All in the living room. In different conversations. Caitlin and Katie, of course close together giggling and chattering away on the opposite couch you and Leah were sat on.

You and Leah were in a deep conversation. Well, for you two it was. It was more of an disagreement you could say. Both of you were fighting over who F•R•I•E•N•D•S character is better. Obviously, people have opinions. But, either of you are letting this go. (If you don’t watch/like friends, you can imagine a different show/movie.) Leah’s favourite is Rachel. Describing how much of a power house she is. Also sneaking in the conversation that her and Ross were on a break, but Ross was in the wrong for sleeping with someone only a mere hours after. (Yep, that’s my opinion.) But for you, it was Chandler. His jokes, sarcasm and his sweet words that made Monica fall more in love with him.

During this debate, unknown to everyone (but Kyra who had this knowing look on her face) was Alessia staring at the two of you. An unusual expression. When I say unusual I mean, Alessia would never in a day have this sort of expression. A sour, wanting to kill someone kind of expression. Alessia eyes were cold and black. Cold like the water the titanic sunk in and, black like coal, you get to increase the fire that was burning inside of her right now. She only broke out the soul-staring when Kyra (who knew why the girl had this look at her) smiling cheekily at her nudges her shoulder.

“Stop staring, or you’ll actually kill her.” Kyra whispered to her, looking around to see if anyone else was in heard of this conversation but no see everyone in they own tiny world.

Alessia, still with the cold expression but her eyes turn back to blue. “Good.” Alessia mumbled, grumpily falling back into the beanbag, that was next to the television. “They say they are ‘just friends’ but look at them! Leah is all over her, first of all. And then, Y/n she’s…” - Kyra cuts her off with a smirk. “Beautiful.”

“Shut up.” Alessia mumbled, rolling her eyes as she shoves Kyra a little. “But, yeah she is. She’s gorgeous, her voice is so smooth, her hair is so soft and her hands-“

“Okay, shut up!” Kyra exclaimed, gaining eyes from everyone, mainly you. Alessia immediately smacks her shoulder, turning red. Beth, being the nosy friend she is asks - “shut up about what?”

Alessia silently begs Kyra not to say anything. Though, Kyra isn’t gonna tell the girls who she’s blushing over but, she is gonna tease Alessia. She turns her head to look at Alessia, smirking. Alessia shakes her head. “Kyra, no.” Alessia whispers.

“Alessia has got a crush!” Kyra blurts out, earning different types of reactions. Alessia groaning, everyone else teasing her but Y/n. She’s quiet, only for a few moments though before speaking.

“So, how long you been feeling this way about this person.” You ask, looking at her. Alessia’s head shoots to you, staring fora couple of seconds before clearing her throat. “Umm… around three months.”

You nod your head, looking down before standing up. “Need to use the restroom.” Without saying a word you speed-walk away from the group, looking at your figure in a mix our worry about the sudden change. Especially Leah. Who you were just laughing and giggling with.

Leah was about to get up and follow you but a voice stops her. “No, sit down. Let Alessia go.” Kyra says, shaking her head at Leah which makes her look at Alessia who was looking at Kyra.

“What?” Leah says, still looking at Alessia. “Why should Alessia go-“

“Leah, just - leave it for Alessia. This one at least.” Kyra exclaimed, before standing up wanting to pull Alessia up. Turning to her. “Talk to her, tell her”.

“Kyra, I can’t-“ - “you can, i know you can.”

Alessia takes a breath in, before nodding; standing up taking a step forward to speak to Leah just for a few seconds. “I’ve got this one. I need to tell her something.” Without a word she walks to the downstairs bathroom.

Alessia softly knocks on the door. Hearing a few shuffles before a door opening. Alessia heart beats faster. As the door swung open the space between the two is so close. You couldn’t fit a cat’s head in.

“Alessia.” You breathe out. Not expecting the forward to be standing right in front of you. “You need to use the restroom?”

Alessia shakes her head, her eyes never leaving yours, enchanted. “No, no I need to speak with you.”

You burrow your eyebrows, but slowly nods her head. “Yeah, sure. You wanna head up to Leah’s bedroom? More comfortable.”

Alessia breathes in but nods, her cheeks turning a shake of pink. “Yeah, that’s good.”

The two of you, in quiet walk up the stairs. Both h of your kinda sneaking past the others, but didn’t see either of you. Reaching the bedroom, softly opening the door. Alessia walking in first, followed by you. Shutting the door gently, before looking at Alessia.

“Okay, what’s up?” You ask, leaning your back against the door, looking at the blonde. Alessia takes in the way your body is leaning.

“Right. Look, this might ruin our friendship, but I’ve been feeling this for a few months now. You know the girl I like?” Alessia asks, cautiously moving forward, more to you.

You tense as she brings up the crush. Pulling back the urge to roll your eyes, you nod your head instead. “Yep, what about her.” Your voice tone not coming out like you wanted. Taking Alessia slightly back, not questioning it.

“It’s you. You’re the girl.” Alessia mumbles, not looking at her preparing for rejection.

You stunned. Looking at her, trying to see if she’s joking or actually telling the truth. But, by the reaction she’s having. Not looking at you. You know she is.

Smiling a little, before moving closer to her. Alessia looks up as she sees a shadow in front of her. Her breath drops as she sees how close you are to her. Looking into her eyes, still smiling. “I have feelings for you too.”

Alessia looks shocked, like she’s seen a ghost. “But, you and Leah seemed so close and-“

You burst out laughing. “Me and Leah. Oh, over my dead body.” When you stop laughing you can see how Alessia shoulders aren’t as tense, she’s actually smiling at you.

“So.. I can take you out? On a date?” Alessia asks, her cheeks now going an a bright red. You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, definitely.”

Alessia shuffles on her spot. Her eyes still at you. Trying to boost herself up. Something clearly on her mind. She finally speaks up. “Can I- can I kiss you?”

If it’s possible your smile brightens. Nodding your head. You breathe an “yeah” out. Alessia moves forward, looking in the eyes for any indication that you don’t want this but, sees none. Bringing an hand up to cup your cheeks, slowly leaning in; soflty connecting her lips onto yours. Yours hand immediately finding her waist. You’re the one who deepens the kiss. Kissing Alessia more harder.

The air in the room shifts, well for Alessia it does. As she pushes you back. Till your back meets the door. Groaning against her lips as you feel the impact. Alessia quickly moves back, worried if she hurt you. “Shit - sorry I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

“Less. It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite actually.” You say, smirking a little before connecting your lips together again. Your hand reaches behind yours to lock the door. Before pushing Alessia forwards, till her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Is this okay?” You mumble against her lips as you softly place her on the bed, you hovering over her. Alessia nods, immediately wanting your lips back on hers.

Meanwhile downstairs, Kyra having a knowing smirk on her face. But also making sure no one, especially Leah wound get up and ruin it for them.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #leah williamson #woso community #arsenal #woso fanfics #kyra cooney cross

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sugar-plum-writer · 3 months ago

Text

Sanctified Azure <3

Tags: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Size-kink; Overstimulation; Unprotected Sex; Religious themes; Manhandling; Rough sex; Cream pie; Pussy drunk Gojo; improper use of Holy Water; MNDI (18+); Who knew Gojo could go more feral?; Possessive Gojo; Smut; NSFW + NSFW; Established relationship; intense sex

A/n: I think this might be one of the most original ideas I've ever come up with when it comes to execution of the plot; really I even surprised myself! Periods really do switch something in the brain huh? 50/50 aka 50% plot & 50% porn all things balanced as they should be~

Synopsis: What happens when your boyfriend gets possessed and fucking him to exorcise him is the only way to get rid of the demon? How feral can he get?

Word count: 4.8k

The curtains of darkness enveloped the room as the walls were crawling with shadows grinning. A single candle illuminated the living room as it sat- its flame flickering eager on what would unfold tonight.

Was this a good idea? Probably not. You had warned your boyfriend Satoru 1000 times that you got bad vibes from that shady store. How he should stay away from that store, and not get involved with it.

But here you are sitting with him- in your and his living room. A crooked pentagon is drawn in the middle with white chalk, some shady-looking book at its center with god knows what language it is written in. White candles all over the room which now reminded you of a scene from the horror movie "Conjuring 2" which is clearly not a good sign.

"Satoru are we really doing this?", You look at him dead in the eyes annoyed.

"Just trust me! I am the strongest sorcerer alive baby~", he smirked- oh how that stupid smirk annoyed you- you really wanted to wipe it off his face.

"Gojo I don't know- this is giving me bad vibes…this…do you even know what's written here?", taking a sharp breath you point at the book.

"Well", he chirped opening his phone, "I used Google Translate baby~ trust me I got this!", proudly he stuck his phone in front of your face with a smug expression.

It was a broken translation with messed up symbols. The pages had ink wiped off, so what did it say again? Beelzebub? Who the hell is he?

Squinting your eyes you tried to make sense of whatever jargon was written in it, "Gojo what the fuck is this? It makes no sense"

"The spell!", he chirped again smiling brightly like a kid who just got candy.

..Silence…

Is he serious right now?

You look at him dumbstruck, how the hell is someone supposed to read weird ancient symbols!?

As if on cue reading your mind he smirked, "I found a YouTube tutorial on Google on how to read it by a guy called- "Satanic Rituals 101!"

You all are going to die today, aren't you?

Your only assurance being is him being the strongest sorcerer and hoping he can hollow purple the demon or whatever is going to crawl out of that shitty Pentagon.

…..

It took some time as Gojo tried to recite whatever he learned from this "Satanic Rituals 101" guy. Which clearly sounded like a Quotev or Buzzfeed account making "Which witch you are?" quizzes from the mid-late 2000's, which you definitely did not spend countless hours doing together with your friends

At first, you thought- more specifically- hoped that the ritual would fail because dealing with a demon is the last thing you want on a Saturday night.

With a huff, you sat with him in the crooked Pentagon as he recited the spell and screeched.

It was all shits and giggles- after all no way this was real? right? right? until the air in the room froze- the temperature felt 20 degrees lower.

Each breath turns into whisps of smoke freezing in front of your eyes- while the clock ticked behind you- it is eerily quiet- the type of quietness that is minutes before the disaster, your guts and mind were telling you to run out but your body was frozen in fear- none of your muscles were listening.

"G-Gojo?", you whispered shakily clutching the hem of your top till your knuckles turned white from fear

"Yeah what is it?", he whispered near your ears causing you to freak out.

"What the fuck!? Don't do that! This is not funny anymore!", you rolled your eyes and faced him.

"Aww really? I am having a lot of fun though", he grinned as he leaned in; face inches away from yours- piercing eyes looking into yours.

"Can you be serious for once Satoru! You just saw what happened! I am freaking out alright!?", with a sigh you bit your lip looking away not wanting to look at him

"Why are you scared? You are being pathetic right now baby girl~", he murmured in a dark tone as his warm breath tickled your ears sending chills down your spine before stepping back

"Y-You have the audacity! Gojo Satrou you better-", fuming with anger you looked into his eyes and were met with his eyes tinted red freezing you in your tracks.

Oh shit- OH SHIT- you've fucked up big time

The realization slowly but surely was sinking in, the man in front of you was not your boyfriend anymore but rather a demon who's possessed him

"Y…You aren't Gojo…", stumbling back your body shook- blood pumping hard in your veins sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

This can't be happening!?

"I am him? What are you talking about love~ you really must be freaked out huh cupcake?~", smirking cockily with hands in his pocket he walked towards you, each step slow and deliberate

"S-Shut up! Gojo would never call me pathetic!"

"Gojo? I am Gojo but I just did that~ what are you going to do about it hm? I am Gojo don't you realize", he leaned in his hot breath on your lips.

At this point, you were cornered- no way out how the hell are you supposed to deal with a demon!? Jujutsu High did not have a manual on it! shit

"You are not!", You hurled your cursed energy toward him punching him in the guts with all your strength- a punch strong enough to have grade-2 curses flying back. To your shock he stood there unfazed.

"How…annoying", with a sigh he locked his eyes with yours, "To think humans developed this huh? Too bad it does not work on me much", with a shrug he grabbed your wrist pulling you close

"You better behave little lamb- unless you want to die", with a slam you were pinned against the wall hands on the sides of your head, "I tried to be nice you know? You just had to not listen- why so disobedient? little dove?", with a frown he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look at him

"You better behave if you want your precious boyfriend alive", licking his lips, "It's been a while since I've tasted human flesh", he whispered eyes darkened with lust.

"You are mine from now on little lamb- you've got a new boyfriend now"

He crashed his lips against yours. …..

The air was full of tension- one wrong move and you are dead meat- your mind was racing with what to do- how the hell do you deal with this? Will searching on WikiHow help? Do they have a tutorial on how to deal with demons? Or how to help your demon possessed boyfriend?

Hell, if it was a curse you would have exorcised it but a demon how do you deal with that?

They say humans when pushed to the brink of their limits do something insane without thinking straight; the rush of adrenaline causes the brain to shift to survival mode. And whatever you did next was not done rationally.

You kissed the demon back

"Hah…", you gazed into the now blue eyes tinted red, "I am gonna get my boyfriend back one way or the other…I'll exorcise you dipshit!", grabbing the collar you glared earning a dark chuckle.

"Oh really? are you? Your boyfriend is now gone~ I have taken over his body little dove- how will you get him back hm?", intrigued the demon kissed your neck chomping down and leaving marks.

"Like…this", the moment the words left your lips you grabbed him by the hair lifted his head, and kissed him deeply tasting him, "Gojo", you whispered between kisses, "You going to let some nobody fuck your dick into me? You called yourself the strongest…you gonna be cuckloaded by yourself huh?"

"You not gonna come and fuck me yourself? All talk were you?", as you continued to spew out whatever came to your head as you kissed him that's when something changed- the energy in the room got more tense.

"Fuck...baby girl", a raspy voice was heard- the familiar tone made your eyes widen, the eyes were now flickering between red and blue, "As if- I am letting this jackass fuck you", sweat dripped down from his forehead to the tip of his chin, chest heaving up and down-

"Gojo!", you cupped his face shakily looking into the now semi-blue and red eyes.

"This demon- hah…to think I'd get possessed how annoying", he grunted with his grip getting tighter around your waist

"It's taking every ounce of my willpower to fight this dipshit...can't let him fuck that cunt eh?", he smirked as he panted with his face flushed.

The way he looked right now- you know it's irrational but- he looked hot; the sweat dripping making his T-shirt cling to his body, shaping the muscles out, and oh his eyes- his eyes so dark and focused- blending between red and blue a beautiful hypnotic gaze- voice raspy- god

What the fuck? Don't possessed people look like shit in movies why does he look so hot!?

"Hah…", as he panted his breath brushed past your lips making your knees weak, "Fuck this shit- I regret this huh?", chuckling weakly he gazed into your eyes

Snapping back to reality you looked at him, "Finally! See I am never wrong! Ugh-", you snapped at him, "What to do! What to do!"

That's when the flickering stopped and the eyes were red again-

"Retard…to think a mere man managed to overpower me- insane bastard", the demon chuckled darkly, "how intriguing- this is a first- to think you hold so much power over this man- that mere words brought his consciousness back?", looking into your eyes he lifted your chin.

"I am going to enjoy this game~", with a swift movement he ripped off your top and bra off

"WHAT THE FUCK!", You screamed scrambling to cover yourself with your hands

"My you scream quite loud for a little lamb- I wonder if I can make you scream louder~", grinning as if riled up by the scent of fear oozing off you the demon was going feral.

He dug his nails into your hips biting down your neck.

'Fuck', you thought to yourself- that's when an idea struck you- holy water- you gotta get holy water! You made sure to get some when Gojo told you about this plan of his first

With a swift movement, you grabbed the holy water kept on the table and poured it over yourself- soaking yourself in it.

The demon screeched as burn marks appeared all over his hands and body- a sizzling sound could be heard from the skin.

"You bitch! You sure got the guts-", glaring at you the eyes of the demon went from red to dark crimson- shit this is bad, "You think you are all that huh?", cutting off your thought process the demon yanked you by the hair boring his eyes into yours

"Holy water- fuck it…even if it hurts the more you fight the more I want you! Rarely has anyone able to do this me", sneering he kissed you

Disgusted you headbutt him catching him a bit off off guard before grabbing the other bottle of holy water; drinking it and forcefully kissing the demon-

His throat burned as he tried to push you off- it was all too much- this is insanity

"Kiss me now you son of a bitch!", you bite his lip forcing the holy water down his throat.

Now this is some crazy exorcism, isn't it?

"Ugh…it's bitter", with a grunt the familiar hazy blue eyes looked into yours, "Damn…my throat hurts- it feels like I drank hot boiling water", coughing Gojo pulled away looking into your eyes- the red was a lot less now.

"Gojo!", tears streamed down your eyes as you hugged him, "Finally! You bastard I hate you!", you sobbed causing him to chuckle.

"I love you too sweetheart~", he kissed you gently before his eyes darkened seeing your appearance.

Half naked- bite marks of the demon on your neck- nail marks on your hips were pissing him off- the messy hair- the scent of holy water on your skin.

How dare he touch what belongs to him?

"He did this- ", biting his lip Gojo pinned you against the wall kissing your neck and leaving bite marks over the bite marks of the demon.

He was feeling extremely possessive right now- you were his- so what if it was a demon? you were his and his alone- heart and soul- after all he'd die for you

Caught off guard by the action you gasp, "G-Gojo! Come back to your senses! god damn it!", you looked into his eyes- blue tinted with red- never have you seen him look so possessive- so feral

It was chilling- yet it made your heart race.

"How can I?- do you know the rage that I am feeling right now?", he whispered darkly- voice thick with tension and cursed energy going batshit crazy- shattering all the glass of windows

"Doll- you are mine and I don't share what's mine", lifting your chin his thumb brushed against your lower lip; the intensity between you two continued to increase to unprecedented levels.

"We gotta get rid of this demon! fuck me later alright?", you blushed slapping his hand away

"Right….", he paused realizing this demon is preventing him from fucking you right now- damn possession really prevents you from getting laid huh?

Taking a deep breath you looked into his eyes- which were still swirling between red and blue, his jaw tight because of the amount of willpower he was using to keep the demon at bay.

"We need to exorcise it out of you…", you sighed.

"Well, how do we do that? I am sure if I lose focus for even 0.1 seconds right now this demon will take over again- I don't want to hurt you nor do I want the demon to use limitless or any of my techniques", grimly he crossed his arms.

"Cursed energy does not exorcise it or else we could have contacted other sorcerers to help out…", annoyed he let out a frustrated sigh.

You are both stuck with what to do that's when an insane idea entered your head- the holy water when you poured it over yourself made the demon back away, and kissing it with holy water also worked- seeing the way it is going- what if- you fucked the demon decked in holy water out of him?

It's never been done before- and it's insane- but; it might just work

"Gojo", deciding to wing it you look into his intense eyes, "Let's fuck", you blurt you making him choke on air.

"W-what? You want to…fuck right now?", he carefully worded out the sentence to make sure he did not hear it wrong.

"Yeah- let's fuck"

Your shameless way of speaking- damn- it was doing things to him- fuck possession really prevents you from fucking because right now all he wanted to do was fuck your brains out

…..

Your idea well it sounded insane to him- this is crazy- literally; it made sense as well- kissing the demon with holy water clearly worked to bring him back for so long- but to fuck you like that?

You decked all in Holy water naked- kissing him with your sweet lips as the bitter taste of holy water burned down his throat; dribbling between both your lips- drops of it slipping down your skin into the most sinful areas imaginable- coating it in a glossy sheen; stinging the hickies he'd leave- your eyes glossy as you moaned begging him. Something about fucking decked in holy water was sending him places.

Imagination was going wild

It was so unholy yet felt so holy

The Holy water ought to purify and cleanse people of their sins, making them untainted forgiving all their sins yet- you decked in holy water was for him to taint you all over again; consume you again and again

Fuck- he's hard

"Doll- are you sure about this?- I don't think I can control myself once we start", wrapping his hands around your waist he brushed his fingers over the marks left by the demon- glancing at the bra and top he'd ripped off- he was jealous- he wanted to be the one to rip it off of you why did the demon get the do that?

He's annoyed- not because he's possessed but because he was not the one to rip it off of you, sure it was his body which the demon was trying to use to fuck you but still its not fair. He really had his priorities straight even when possessed

"I am sure- 'toru- but; will you be able to keep your consciousness? This is going to get intense", wrapping your arms around his neck you whispered concerned seeing how close the demon was to taking over him again

"Hah! As if I'd let this cunt and pussy be fucked by someone else- only I get to stuff it the way I want with my dick", smirking he pulled you closer.

"Don't worry about me- just start baby- I can handle a little possession"

On cue, you soon pour the remaining bottles of holy water all over yourself- water droplets trailing down your curves into the little crevices dripping down your thighs and nipples soaking you

God's grace decking it's love in shimmering and holiest trails, a sanctum for in defiles to witness divinity- is this why men wage wars to witness heaven?

Looking into your eyes as you stood in front of him- so seductive

His mind was swirling with emotions and all the things he wanted to do to you right now seeing you like this. He never thought he could desire you more than he already did- yet here he was- wanting more.

You were like an angel purifying yourself before being consumed by the devil himself- and at this point, he loved being the devil if it meant he got to taste your flesh

Today he was going to be baptized into being admitted into the form of church exclusive to him- You

…..

Crashing his lips against yours- while the demon and he fought for dominance was intense; you were gasping for air while he did not give you any room to breathe.

Groping and touching you all over, fingers flicking your nipples and pinching them as he kissed down your neck- the stimulation was intense.

The burning sensation on his skin stung him badly but the pleasure he was feeling was too great to think of the pain- to think one day he would be fighting being possessed with a demon on being the one to fuck you.

Who would have thought?

"G-Gojo….s-slow down a bit", you gasped as he mercilessly chomped down your skin leaving his marks, "I am not- not today…hah…", biting his lip to maintain consciousness he continued to become even more intense as he left even more marks- digging his nails on your hips.

The Holy water was so bitter- Every inch of his skin was burning as it came to contact with yours, he was on fire- the pain was too much yet it was lust that clouded his mind- he just could not get enough

Tasting the holy water of your lips burned his throat but it felt so right- the pain- the pleasure- the need to focus on fucking you- using RCT to constantly heal the burns- flickering in and out of consciousness with the demon- this was the most intense sex session ever; he felt like he was giving it his all- he was giving his soul to the devil right now

Your body decked in holy water was like salvation for him- if this is what salvation is like- he'd get possessed every second of his life.

Today the phrase, "God is a Woman" made sense because fuck- He's worshiping you right now.

Biting, kissing you all over, his hands leaving fingerprints everywhere in their wake setting your skin on fire; at this point, he's forgotten he's possessed and just kept going- warm tongue gliding over your sensitive skin and sucking on the hickies coating it.

Kisses trailed down your neck to your belly and stomach before burying his face between your legs nose deep- legs wrapped around his neck as he held you pinned against the wall- lapping at your cunt like a dog in heat

The stimulation was too much- he's never been this rough, your pussy was drenched wet as moan after moan spilled out your lips.

"Ah…hah! Gojo 'tis too much- I-I can't!", gasping with tears streaming down your eyes you dug your nails over his shoulders and arched your back desperately holding onto him

"Give it to me baby- cum f'me- I'm gonna teach this demon who owns this cunt", he said in a mumble and daze as his mouth was too busy lapping and drinking your sweet nectar- he was pussy drunk- you tasted more delicious than ever; the bitter holy water on your cunt mixed with your pre-cum made it hard for him to stop.

How could he? He was in heaven right now drinking immortal wine

Eyes rolling back you went over the edge- cumming on his tongue while he drank it all up like it was a sacred fountain of youth- helping you ride off your high

"Fuck baby…you taste so good...", looking into your eyes darkened with such pure primal desire- he was long gone- all he wanted to do right now was just ram his dick into you.

Even if he was beyond redemption- he'd never let the demon fuck you

Still panting and coming down from your high breathless- legs shaking you gazed at him with your glossy eyes and face flushed.

You really felt your consciousness fading- this intensity was unlike you've ever experienced before- sure bondage was intense when you and Gojo were fucking- but this was a whole'nother level of intense

So fucked up, so needy and wet all for him- damn was he really drinking holy water off your skin or was it aphrodisiac?

Without warning he put you in a mean mean mating press against the wall startling you before ramming his dick into your poor gushing cunt- damn he really was not gonna give you even 0.1 second to adjust- cock twitching against your tight walls making you see stars- it felt way too good. You could feel his dick pulsing- the veins- he filled you up so good

Your cunt was gobbling him up choking on his dick- trying to push him out but he was just too big. You felt like a lamb to slaughter- words were slurring- your body was numb at this point; tingly sensations went from your cunt to the tip of your toes and fingers- brain sent to over drive

This was the first time you actually felt the danger- such intense pleasure beyond comprehension, but, gods be dammed it was a feeling so euphoric you want it again- you want to go higher

The way your walls clenched around him so tight- holding onto him as if to never let go- he really felt his dick melting in your cunt- feeling like it was going to be snapped off him; tilting his head back he felt his brain going more numb the only thought he had in his head was to fill your pretty and perfect sobbing cunt with his cum and so he did that

He started to move in and out- in and out- in an unrelenting pace- god he hit all your g-spots so well with each thrust; filling your pussy up with his dick so well- so deep

Only moans and whines could spill out of your mouth, tears covered your face- you did not even remember if you were in reality or fantasy.

He kept going mercilessly and at this point you did not even remember how many times you cummed on his thick cock- feeling your walls hold onto him tighter made him finally go over the edge- with a last thrust he put his dick in deep- hitting your womb making sure to fill you up damn fucking well- after all You were his and seeing his cum dribble out of you was something he loved to see

Both of you exhausted from the intense fucking just collapse on top of each other and lay on the floor.

…..

The sun rays poured in the morning brushing past the curtains and illuminating the room with its warmness- coating everything in a warm sheen as light reflected off of the surfaces. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess that was the living room from the night before

The crooked chalk pentagon still on the floor, the shady book in the center- bottles of holy water littered all over the floor- ripped clothes which were more like rags scattered across the floor- glasses from the windows still cover the corner of the floor; if anyone saw this it would be very hard to explain what happened

Laying and hugging him with his arms wrapped around your waist and keeping you close was quite an oxymoron compared to the living room- the sunlight blanketed you and him with its rays as if giving a gentle nudge to two lovers to wake up knowing the moon witnessed all the secrets of lovers intertwined at night.

"Hmmm…", hazily Gojo woke up from his sleep and sat up glancing at you and seeing all the marks and fingerprints painting every inch of your skin hit him like a ton of bricks remembering the insanity which was the previous night.

"Baby?", cooing at you softly he pulled you close to him, "Are you alright?", looking at you with his puppy eyes he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck- inhaling the scent.

"my back…it's completely gone", you whined sleepily about the sharp pain and ache you felt all over your body damn only now do you realize how intense was last night.

Smirking he caressed and traced your spine straddling you on his lap and earning a slap on his wrist, "Where do you think your hands are going huh? I have not forgiven you for getting me involved in this shit!", pouting you glared at him which in his eyes only made you look cuter.

"Ouch! Sorry baby- I really won't get shady books from that store anymore", humming his squeezed your thighs making you squirm, "Though- I really wanna fuck like that again ya know? You looked so hot taking me so well decked in holy water", whispering near your ears in a deep voice sent shivers up and down your spine annoying you at the same time.

"Hmph as if! Are you crazy!?", blushing you flicked his forehead, "Awww so mean~ baby girl!", dramatically he covered his face, "Ugh…", you sighed seeing him being the droopy golden retriever

How can he be so hot and fuck you like a ragdoll and then act like this- as if he could do no wrong; as if he is such an innocent guy. It really made you wonder just what goes on in his brain.

But low-key no wait scratch that- high-key you'd like to see him like that again looking so feral- the gaze, the raspy voice just thinking about it made your stomach do flip flops- as long you two fuck the demon out of him- does it matter?

Seeing your expression he knew he had you exactly where he wanted- he knew you were as much of an insane person just as he was, "So~ is someone into it huh?", grinning he licked one of the hickies on your neck from last night making goosebumps spread across your skin.

"I-I'm not…", you whisper with your face red, "Really…then why is she so wet huh?", smirking he caressed your cunt circling the clitoris and smacking it sending waves of pleasure down your body, "T'Toru!", you whined- it stung so much yet it made you so wet, "What baby~?", he cooed and flicked his finger making you gasp, "I-…I….I'll think about it", coughing not wanting to admit your own arousal at the thought of fucking again like last night you averted eyes.

"Alright~", grinning he licked the outer shell of your ears kissing you hard

"I'll be waiting", humming satisfied you both cuddled together.

But don't let your guard down yet after all the greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing the world he did not exist- and will hit you at your least vulnerable

Better stock up on holy water who knows when the devil will hit you again? After all with the kind of person Gojo was you doubt this would be your last rodeo.

Here is a link to my Masterlist! Thanks for reading~ Meal is served my lovely followers <3 sorry for being gone for so long~

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qrrieterisunnq · 9 months ago

Text

It's nothing - Nico Hischier

nico!hischier x fem!reader Summary: Nico gets injured during the game, which leads to y/n checking him out in the medical room. Nico downplays his injury to make a good impression on Y/n. requested: yes/no A/N: I hope you'll like it, it's unedited so I might change something when I have time to edit the rest of the fics! So just enjoy this fic and happy rest of the day! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 1,38K warning(s): injured Nico, y/n is an intern, cocky Nico, fluff

masterlist | wip's

The puck is on Nico’s stick as he skates towards the net of the team they’re playing against. They are up for two goals, but they are just in the second period. Nico looks around, looking for his teammates so he can pass them the puck.

On his left is Jack but there are two islanders next to him, so he wouldn’t be able to get the puck. There are other two Luke and Ondřej, but they aren’t in the best position, so the last one is Jasper who is in center with the best chance to shoot a goal.

“Bratter!” he shouts, his thick Swiss accent making Jasper whisp his head in Nico’s direction. With a swift swing of his stick, Nico sends the puck over to him all eyes on Jesper as he shoots on the net getting the puck in the top left corner. The cheers and the bell sound through the arena, and the boys on the ice skate over to Jesper embracing him in a hug and patting his head. “Atta boy!” Nico laughs, patting his helmet.

“God shot, J!” Jack skates over to them, joining the hug. The lineup slowly makes their way to the bench bumping the extended gloves of their teammates.

After their celebration, Nico skates on the faceoffs, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down to win the face-off. As soon as the puck touches the ice, Nico swings his stick the puck sliding behind him on Jack’s stick. He swings his stick, hitting the puck hard as it flies in the net, right between the goalie's legs, but this time, he’s prepared for it and deflects the puck away. Nico skates toward it, but the defenseman on the other team pushes him in the boards. Nico’s shoulder slammed into the boards, and he fell down, staying there as he winced in pain.

The referee immediately whistles announcing penalties, as the boys skate over to Nico. Timo immediately shoves the other player away earning a shove in return.

But Timo's anger and loyalty to Nico won't let him and he shoves him again, the defenceman doesn't like that and gives Timo a hard hit in the face.

The free referee skates over to them trying to get them away from each other. Jack skates towards them hugging Timo around his waist and pulling him away. “YOU SON OF BITCH!” Timo shouts over Jack’s shoulder as he’s dragged away to the bench.

“You okay, Nico?” Ondřej asks Nico as he kneels down beside him.

“My shoulder hurts like a bitch.” Nico whimper, his left hand clutching his right one

“Okay, give me your hand, we’ll get you down to the medical room.” He sighs gripping Nico’s left hand and helping him up on the skates as he skates with him to the bench.

“You okay Nico?” Coach Green asks with concern in his eyes.

“No my shoulder hurts like a bitch!” he curse as he clutches Ondřej’s arm for support.

“I’ll lead him down to the medical room, I’m sure y/n is ready for him.” Coach just nods his head making room for them to leave down the tunnel.

“Y/n! Are you here!” you can hear a voice with a thick accent calling for you. Immediately you run to the door opening and welcome the two players inside the room.

“Yeah! Come in, come in!” you urge them inside pointing towards the table. “Sit on the table Nico and Pally I need you to help him take off the jersey and pads.” You say as you walk over to your table taking the gloves from the box.

“Sure.” He nods his head solely helping Nico to get his jersey from his injured shoulder. “Thanks, O.” Nico breathes out as soon as the jersey is off of him leaving him sitting here in only his pads. “I get the pads you can go back. I need you to win the game!”

“You sure Cap?”

“Yeah positive, go and kick their asses.” Nico goes to move his right arm to extend his fist but winces in pain.

“Hey, Nico, be careful!” you scold him as you walk over to him starting to get his pads off.

“Sorry,” he pouts, a small laugh leaving Ondřej’s lips. “But it’s nothing.”

“Okay, can you please slowly raise your hand up? As soon as it starts hurting you stop okay?” you say when he’s sitting half-naked in front of you.

Nico just nods his head raising his right arm. You watch his face wince in pain but he continues raising it until it is in a vertical position. “It’s nothing, see?” he points to the right arm.

“I’m the one to say if it’s nothing. The boarding looked really nasty so let me do my job here okay?” you smile at him your hands gripping his right arm and getting it down in a normal position. You place your hands on his shoulder, squeezing the right places to find out what is with his shoulder.

“So, how are you enjoying the internship so far?” he asks as you do your job with his shoulder.

“Oh, it's amazing! Really the medical staff here is so welcoming and really helpful when I need something or I don’t know what something is. And of course, you guys are amazing too, you know, free hockey games.” You chuckle a throaty laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh, are we?” he says cocky smile lingering on his lips. “Yeah, I mean you’re playing amazing,” you look at him when a quiet groan leaves his mouth. He just shakes his head like it's nothing, that it’s not hurting. “Especially you.” You whisper to yourself hoping he won’t hear it. It’s no secret you have a crush on the captain. Lots of the guys noticed how you check him off and the medical staff too.

“Especially me, eh?” he asks his hands landing on your hips as he pulls you between his legs.

“Yeah, and now let me do my job. Your shoulder is dislocated so I need to get it back in its place,” You say shaking his hands off your hips. “So on three, okay?” you prepare him for a pain. Your left hand is resting on his shoulder and your right is holding his biceps so you can pull at it.

“Yeah, you don’t have to count, it won’t hurt, I’m a tough guy.” Smirk finding its way on his lips shrugging you grasp his shoulder harder at the same time as you pull on his biceps getting the shoulder in the right place.

“Oh FUCK!!” he hisses his teeth sinking in his lower lips.

“Tough guy, huh?” you smirk at him patting his tight as you walk over to the table for bandage.

“Very funny y/n, really.” He says taking in deep breath, and just watching y/n do her job. He had this intense crush on her since she started her internship here only a few weeks ago.

“What, I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt!” you giggle as you carefully bandage his shoulder. “Okay, tough guy! You can go on the ice, but be careful with it. One bag hit in the shoulder and you might end up here again.” You smile at him when you’re done and fuck…your smile is so fucking cute and he just wants that full plump lips on his.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind ending up in here again.” Nico puts his pads back on his shoulders and arms, covering his toned muscular chest. You pout at it, shaking your head at yourself.

“Yeah, good one. Now go on that ice and kick some asses. And for a record, don’t try to downplay your injury just to make a good impression on someone, tough guy.” You motion your hand towards the ice and turn away to take off your gloves and write something on the computer.

“Okay, thanks for the advice miss intern.” He salutes and walks from the medical room, only to come back. “And by the way, tomorrow, you and me, dinner! I’ll pick you up at eight.” He sends you a wink, causing your cheeks to turn red. Before you can say anything, he’s running down the tunnel to the ice. You just shake your head at him, sitting down on your chair, your cheeks still bright red and your thoughts already on tomorrow and the dinner.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #nh13 #nj devils #nhl #nico hischier fic #nhl fic #nico hischier imagine #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils

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captainjamster · 8 months ago

Note

Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

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roseyjustice · 2 years ago

Text

Whisp has two big sons, Spec the mewtwo and Grant the zoroark !

#doodles #self ship art #self ship community #self insert #self shipping community #self insert art #pokemon self insert #pokemon oc #mewtwo #zoroark #pokemon trainer #s/i: whisp #jescove scribbles (art)

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30somethingautisticteacher · 5 months ago

Text

Reboot

"Slow down, Howie. What are you talking about? Is Evan okay?" Tommy's voice trembled with concern.

"He's lost it, Tommy! He's on a rampage!" Chimney shouted through the phone, his words tinged with panic.

Tommy took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Howie, can you give the phone to someone who can explain what the hell is going on?"

There was a shuffle, and then a familiar voice came on the line. "Tommy? Are you on your way yet?"

"Hen, I just got into my truck, but I'm really freaking out. Is my boyfriend okay?"

"Tommy, man. Just get here," Eddie's voice cut in, grave and urgent.

Tommy's knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

Tommy screeched into the 118's parking lot, tires squealing as he brought his truck to an abrupt halt. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted towards the firehouse, pushing through the doors with such force they slammed against the walls.

Breathless, he skidded to a stop, nearly colliding with a familiar figure.

"Tommy! Babe, what are you doing here?" Evan's bright blue eyes widened in surprise, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

Tommy blinked, confusion washing over him as he took in Evan's calm demeanor. There was no sign of the 'rampage' Chimney had described. His boyfriend looked perfectly normal, if a bit puzzled by Tommy's dramatic entrance.

"I... what?" Tommy managed to sputter, his gaze darting around the seemingly peaceful firehouse. "Are you okay? They said...Howie said..."

"Tommy, you're here! Thank God!" Chimney rushed over, relief and urgency warring in his voice.

Tommy's gaze darted between Chimney's panicked expression and Evan's bewildered one. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded, frustration edging into his tone.

Chimney grabbed Tommy's arm, pulling him slightly away from Evan. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper. "He's... he's Clipboard Buck!"

Tommy's brow furrowed, more confused than ever. He looked back at Evan, who seemed equally perplexed by Chimney's behavior.

"Clipboard Buck?" Tommy repeated slowly, trying to make sense of the situation. "What does that even mean?"

Evan stepped forward, concern etching his features. "Chim, are you feeling okay? You've been acting weird all day."

Chimney's eyes widened, and he tugged on Tommy's arm more insistently. "See? He doesn't even realize what he's doing!"

Tommy found himself caught between his boyfriend's apparent normalcy and Chimney's genuine distress. Something strange was definitely happening at the 118.

"What is 'Clipboard Buck'?" Tommy asked, his confusion growing by the second.

Hen appeared beside Chimney, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Give him a clipboard and he's a menace," she explained, gesturing towards Evan.

Eddie joined the group, running a hand through his hair. "Tommy, he's my best friend, but Clipboard Buck is a demon."

Tommy looked back at Evan, who was now frowning slightly, clipboard in hand. The pieces started to fall into place.

"Are you telling me," Tommy began slowly, "that you called me here in a panic because my boyfriend is being... overly efficient?"

Chimney nodded vigorously. "You don't understand. He's reorganized the entire station. Twice. He's scheduling surprise drills. He's itemizing our lunch breaks!"

Evan stepped forward, tapping his pen against the clipboard. "I'm just trying to improve our response times and overall efficiency. I don't see what the problem is."

Tommy found himself caught between laughter and disbelief. The situation was absurd, yet the genuine distress of Evan's colleagues was hard to ignore.

"Okay," Tommy said, taking a deep breath. "Let me get this straight. You all freaked me out, made me think Evan was in danger or having some kind of breakdown, because he's... being too organized?"

"Overly efficient? Too organized?" Chimney sputtered, his eyes wide with disbelief. He gripped Tommy's shoulders, his voice dropping to a haunted whisper. "Tommy, I swear I have PTSD from his time as a fire marshal."

Eddie nodded solemnly. "It's not just about being organized. It's about the relentless pursuit of perfection that borders on tyranny."

Tommy's gaze shifted between the distressed faces of Evan's team and his boyfriend's puzzled expression.

"Guys, aren't you overreacting a bit?" Evan asked, his brow furrowed. "I'm just trying to help us be the best we can be."

The collective groan from the team spoke volumes.

Tommy ran a hand over his face, torn between amusement at the absurdity of the situation and concern for both his boyfriend and his colleagues. He realized he'd have to play mediator in this bizarre scenario.

"Okay," Tommy said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "Let's all take a breath. Evan, baby, maybe we should talk about appropriate levels of... enthusiasm in the workplace. And you guys," he turned to the team, "maybe we can find a way to channel Evan's energy productively without causing a mutiny?"

Chimney's eyes lit up with sudden hope. "Why don't you just take him home and let him be efficient there?" he suggested, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Yep, we already cleared it with Bobby," Hen added quickly, nodding vigorously.

Eddie chimed in, "It's for the good of the team. And Buck's safety." He glanced meaningfully at Chimney, who was eyeing the clipboard like it was a venomous snake.

Tommy blinked, taken aback by their eagerness to get rid of Evan. He turned to his boyfriend, who was now looking more perplexed than upset.

"Wait, you guys want me to leave?" Evan asked. "I'm revolutionizing our efficiency!"

Tommy felt a mix of amusement and sympathy. He placed a hand on Evan's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Hey, how about we channel that energy at home, huh? My house could use some of your organizational skills."

Evan glanced at his clipboard, then back at his colleagues. "But I'm not finished here. There's still so much we could optimize."

"Sweetheart, it's time to go," Tommy said gently but firmly.

Evan sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. "Fine, but don't come complaining to me when things start falling apart around here."

As they turned to leave, Evan tucked the clipboard under his arm, clearly not ready to part with it just yet. Tommy suppressed a smile, realizing he might have his work cut out for him at home.

Tommy caught sight of Chimney mouthing 'Thank you' behind Evan's back. He shook his head, amused and exasperated by the whole situation.

As they settled into Tommy's truck, he turned to Evan with a warm smile. "How about we work on improving our efficiency in the bedroom?" Tommy suggested, his tone playful.

Evan's eyes widened slightly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "I think we're already plenty productive in there," he replied, matching Tommy's tone. Then, his expression shifted, that telltale look of determination crossing his face. "Although, I could make a spreadsheet to track our performance metrics and identify areas for optimization!"

Tommy couldn't help but laugh, a mix of amusement and affection washing over him. "Evan," he said, shaking his head. "How about we keep the clipboard out of our sex life?

Evan pouted for a moment before a sly smile crept onto his face. "Fine, no spreadsheets. But I reserve the right to conduct thorough performance reviews."

"Now that," Tommy said, leaning in for a quick kiss, "is the kind of efficiency I can get behind."

As they drove away from the station, both men chuckling, Tommy's phone buzzed with a text. It was from Chimney: "Do anything you can to reboot the robot. I do not want details."

Tommy snorted, shaking his head at Chimney's message. He glanced at Evan, who was reaching for the glove compartment, probably to reorganize its contents.

"You know what?" Tommy said, gently catching Evan's hand. "I think I have some ideas on how to keep you occupied when we get home. No clipboards involved."

Evan's eyebrows shot up, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh? And will these activities improve the home's overall efficiency?"

Tommy laughed, squeezing Evan's hand. "Let's just say, it'll be a very hands-on approach to team building."

As they drove home, Tommy couldn't help but think that "rebooting the robot" might just be the most enjoyable task he'd had all week.

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #firepilot #clipboard buck #30sat writes

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drabblesandimagines · 8 days ago

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Mistletoe

A secret Santa gift for @porcelainseashore and @leonsecretsanta

Prompt: Mistletoe. Trope: Childhood friends. Wildcard: Cowboy AU.

I'm so sorry I misread the deadline!

“No, no, no…” You plead in vain as the engine splutters, the car kangarooing forward at the loss of power as you manage to steer off to the side of the road. Well, if you could technically call it that – it was definitely more of a dirt track than anything else. There’s an awful sound as the carefully wrapped presents are thrown around and you’re hoping the vase you’d bought for your grandma has survived in the layers of bubble-wrap.

Damn it all. You’re so close too – just over three miles from town – but the whisps of smoke now emitting from the engine doesn’t seem promising.

Wait.

Smoke?!

You fumble with the handle, yanking it hard and flinging the door open in an attempt to throw yourself out of the car, nearly forgetting to unbuckle your seat belt as you do so. It’s not a graceful exit, a panicked tumble, scraping your palms on the dirt as you scramble up to your feet and try to create some distance between you and the machine you’re so is about to burst into flames.

Only to hear a dry chuckle.

You spin around in fright, barely keeping your balance – you swore there hadn’t been anyone in sight when you’d pulled over, the track had been dead as a doornail since you’d turned off the highway – but there, leaning against the beaten-up fence that lined the path is who you think is a man, the dipping winter sun silhouetting his figure, a stetson hat shading his face from view.

“Howdy, little lady”, a deep, oddly familiar voice greets. “Car trouble?”

“I…” You turn back to look at the vehicle, the smoke that had been emitting from under the hood is now just a non-threatening whisp. “I thought it was gonna explode. Complete hunk of junk.”

“Junk? Nah, she’s just a classic - like all the machinery on my ranch. Probably just needs a gentler touch. Mind if I take a look?”

Before you can answer, he’s hopping over the fence with the assistance of what you can now see is a particular toned forearm, clad in a grey – but what was once white t-shirt –sturdy denim jeans and striding over to you in a pair of black leather boots, finally lifting his head to reveal his face.

This is screaming stranger danger – out in the middle of nowhere, the setting sun, there’s never been any cell service on the outskirts in the town that you’d grown up in and you’ll be lucky to get a smidge of a bar when you even get there, and now you’re gonna be a headline on the town gazette about the abandoned truck on the side of the room, full of Christmas presents and-

Wait.

“Leon?”

His eyebrows furrow beneath the rim of his hat, blue eyes widening in realisation and suddenly you’re pulled into his chest by those muscular arms, an exclamation of your name into your crown in greeting.

He smells ridiculously good – a combination of musk, hay, a hint of oil from the machines at the aforementioned ranch… It’s only then that you realise your arms are still hanging limply by your sides that you return his embrace.

“I near about didn’t recognise you in the city get-up!”

You pull back, an accusatory look on your face that immediately falters when your heart skips a beat.

Of course he would only become even more attractive in your time away.

Leon S Kennedy had always been blessed in the looks department, that and his boyish charm had meant he’d always had a line of interested girls in high school and, with the way he seems to have aged like a fine wine, you don’t doubt that he must’ve made one his wife…

You shake off the thought, lying to yourself about why it had made your stomach sink in the first place.

“Uh-huh. My ‘city get-up’ compared to your look right now.” You can’t help but lift your hand and nudge the rim of the hat up with your forefinger. “When did you start wearing this?”

“Somewhere in the last, what, five years since you visited, right?” Leon tries to tease with a smile, arms still wrapped loosely around your waist, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah. Well…” You shrug, the uneasy feeling in your stomach now replaced with a knot of guilt. “There was classes and work, hard to get back down here. And Grandma liked to come visit.” It wasn’t a lie – she did. “But with her health not being so great this year…” You trail off, not really wanting to think about it.

You step back out of his embrace at last then, immediately feeling a little colder for doing so. You lift an arm to scratch the back of your neck and Leon immediately recalls it as an anxious tell from your youth.

“Yeah… I’m mighty sorry to hear about that. She seems fit as a fiddle to me, you know? I still see her every Sunday at the market. Hell, if I’m particularly lucky, she’ll let me carry the bags to her car.”

You force a smile. “That’s sweet of you.”

“Nah, it’s the least I can do.” He shrugs, looking like he wants to say more.

Instead, he claps his hands together and jerks his chin towards your car. “Let’s see if we can get you on your way, huh?”

“Sure. I’ll… I’ll pop the hood.”

As Grandma would say, gosh darn it all to heck and back.

You thought you were over him.

Leon had been your best friend since practically birth, right up until the end of high school when you’d headed off to the city for college and he’d stayed to take over his father’s ranch. It was the summer before college that something had changed, how butterflies had started to blossom in your stomach every time he smiled at you, despite doing it hundreds of thousands of times before and had made the goodbye as you’d packed up to head off to the city bittersweet.

You’d promised each other you’d stay in touch – every Thursday night you had a scheduled phone call where you’d tell him all about your classes, what annoying thing your room-mates had been up to, how your manager had changed round all your shifts at the coffee shop again… He’d regale you with tales of home, what he was planning on changing around the ranch, what the latest uproar was in the town meeting.

Thursday evenings had quickly become your favourite night of the week, sacrificing sleep as you and Leon would talk into the early hours of the morning, sometimes finding yourself even drifting out to the comforting sound of his voice, and looking forward to every night when you could cross another day off the calendar until winter break began…

The butterflies are swirling around your stomach now, sure, but you also remember how much it had hurt when you’d raced up to the ranch as soon as you’d got home, only to find him kissing Lorelie Becker the front of the stables, a solitary sprig of mistletoe hanging from the arched doorway.

You’d turned heel and sprinted off as quick as you’d ran there. Grandma had commented on how quick a visit it had been and you’d dug your nails into your palm, shrugging it off that, oh, he hadn’t been around and you’d catch him tomorrow, fibbing that you were tired and going to have an early night, sobbing into your pillow for being so stupid in the first place to think that he’d thought of you as anything more than a friend.

That winter break had been awkward. Interactions with Leon felt too forced and you’d fed him excuses about having to help your grandma out at home instead of any of the plans you’d made over the phone the weeks prior. You’d even headed back up to college early, managing to snag some extra shifts to fill the weeks – all just to get away from the heartbreak. Slowly, those scheduled Thursday calls turned into messages left on answering machine, the occasional game of phone tag in an polite attempt to reschedule and then, eventually, stopped altogether.

You’d shrugged off the feeling of loss whenever you thought of him, or been reminded of something that would’ve made him laugh, something he’d like, or when Grandma had mentioned seeing him in town.

The days had turned into weeks, months, and years…

And now, as you find yourself stood by the fence he’d hopped over, his hat resting besides you on one of the posts, staring at how dang good his rear looks in the well-worn, yet still stupidly fitted jeans, as he leans over, elbow deep in the components of your engine muttering under his breath, you realise how completely and utterly wrong you’ve been.

“Let’s see now...” Leon’s words break you out of your fixation as he stands up straight. He takes a moment to wipe off the oil from his hands on his jeans, drops down the hood with a satisfying thunk and turns to you, pushing the bangs out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Keys, darlin’?”

Your scalp tingles at the term of endearment and you could swear his cheeks are tinged red, but he clears his throat with a forced smile before clarifying.

“Your keys. Wanna make sure she turns over.”

“Oh.” You nod, stepping away from the fence. “Yeah, they’re still in the ignition.”

You walk over as he heads to the driver’s door, still open from your hasty exit, and watch as he leans in and turns the keys. The engine appears to start as normal - not a sputter to be heard nor a whiff of smoke to be seen.

Leon’s face erupts into a triumphant grin, but you can’t mirror it.

“It’s… It’s definitely safe to drive, right?”

The smile drops as he nods. “It’ll get you back to your grandma’s right enough. Mack took over the autoshop – I suggest you visit him before you head back down the highway…” He steps out your way and you hop into the driver’s seat, hoping to make a hasty exit.

“Thanks – saved me having to walk into town.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shrugs. “Glad I was around.”

“I should…” You nod towards the open door. “Sorry, Grandma will start getting worried.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“I always thought he was a nice boy.”

“Hm?” You mumble in reply, too focused on rolling out the dough on the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Grandma liked to make gift baskets for the neighbours as presents – packed full of home-made preserves and baked goods – and you’d been trusted with making the sugar cookies, acutely aware of how strict she was about achieving the perfect thickness before she’d even entertain the idea of getting the cookie cutters out.

“Do you need these fangled hearing aid things, sugar?” Grandma teases, tapping the device on her ear. “I said – I always thought that Leon was such a nice boy.”

“He’s not a boy anymore, Grandma.”

“Nice man, then. You know, I always thought you two would end up together…”

“We were just friends, Grandma.” You reply on default – it’s not the first time she’s brought up the conversation after all. You’d dated, of course, over the last couple of years, but every time they’d fizzled out Leon’s name would eventually be mentioned.

“No, not just friends. I saw the way he looked at you! Besides, it’s not like he’s dating or anything. All the ladies at church are constantly pushing their granddaughters on him and he’s nothin’ but polite. Why, Maureen Becker has been going on and on about her Lorelie-“

“Grandma!” You snap – emotions still high, nerves frazzled after seeing Leon yesterday. You knew it had been a possibility but, heck, you wanted to be more prepared, more put together your first time seeing him face to face again. “Leon didn’t like me like that, okay? I don’t know what happened between him and Lorelie, but they looked pretty cosy that night I saw them under the mistletoe at the ranch, so just stop, okay?”

“What’s all this now?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” you try and backtrack, leaning down onto the rolling pin a little too hard and with the next roll the dough is almost translucent.

“Well, all right, then.” Grandma purses her lips. “Say, I think we’re almost out of butter. You re-roll that dough and get the next batch on whilst I go fetch some.”

“That’s okay – I can go grab it and you just rest.”

“Hush”, she chides, already heading towards the door. “Doctor said it was good for me to do a little bit of a walk each day. I won’t be a tick.”

“Well, howdy, ma’am,” Leon dips his head in respect as he spots Grandma approaching, a determined look on her face as she stalks up the path to where he’d been mending a broken panel. “What can I do for…? Hey!”

She swats the hat off his head with a firm hand.

“Don’t you hey me – I’d love to take that hat and stomp it under my foot. Why, it would be mighty appropriate, don’t you think, the way you broke that poor girl’s heart? I would never-“

“Whoa, now.” Leon raises his hands in a practiced gesture – too often having had to use it on spooked horses – and takes a step back. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me, ma’am.”

Grandma takes a breath and scowls. "Lorelei Becker."

"Lorelei..." Leon trails off as he scratches his chin, trying to catch up. “From high school?”

"Yes.” She punctuates her response with a firm poke to his chest.

“Well, what about her?”

“The last winter break my sugar came home - she came straight here, only to find YOU smoochin' Lorelei under the gosh darn mistletoe!"

"What? No - that..." Leon backs up as Grandma pokes at him again, the jabs feeling like they’re already going to bruise. "That's not what happened."

"Here I was, thinkin' you were a fine, upstandin' fella and all this time-"

"No - I'd set that up for her! I...” He steps to the side, finally managing to dodge an assault. “I put up that mistletoe. Heck, I know it was corny, but I thought she'd like it… Then Lorelei showed up and just grabbed me – I didn’t even see her that night-"

Grandma stops and stares at Leon – it took him right back to his youth, stood in the kitchen at your house where the two of you had been scolded for taking the tractor out on a joyride in the dark – and he shrinks back in himself.

“You promise that’s the truth?”

“I swear, ma’am.”

“Well,” her face relaxes, “seems this dilly-dallying has all been a big misunderstanding all these years.”

“Er, dilly-dallying?”

“Dilly-dallying.” Grandma bends down before Leon can stop her, picking up his abandoned hat and dusting it off before offering it back to him. “You swing by ours in about an hour and we’ll sort out this mess once and for all.”

You’re about to take the next batch of cookies out of the oven when there’s a loud knock on the front door and Grandma is quick to whip the oven mitts out of your hands. “Get that, will you, sugar? I’ll get these.”

“But surely it’ll be for you-“

“Go on now,” she swots you with the gloves on the back of your legs, urging you towards the door. She’d been in a weird mood since she’d returned with the butter, not letting you leave the kitchen for a second, whilst she’d fussed around with something in the hall.

You swing open the door only to feel something swipe across the crown of your head – mistletoe dangling on a red ribbon from the doorframe between you and an equally looking surprised Leon, before realisation sets in across his face.

Your stomach sinks at what he must think.

“Wait, I did not put that-“

He smiles. “It was for you.”

“Huh?”

“The mistletoe. Not this one.” He clarifies, the plant still swinging side to side between the two of you. “Last time you came back from winter break. I’d hung it up at the entrance to the stables for you getting back, wanted to surprise you and then Lorelie Becker walked up, got all giddy, pulled me forward. I didn’t know you’d seen-”

You shake your head. “Look, I don’t know what Grandma told you, but-“

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“I said,” he dips his head to remove his hat, “can I kiss you?”

You don’t respond – your body apparently switching into autopilot instead to those four words. You stand up on your tip toes, a hand flat on his chest for balance and kiss him ever so gently on the lips before your mind finally kicks into gear and you begin to retreat, an apology on the tip of your tongue.

But there’s an arm around your waist now, fingers threading through your hair on the back of your head as you’re pulled back into a desperate and long overdue kiss.

Grandma’s voice rings out from the kitchen.

“About dang time!”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leonsecretsanta2024 #ghostdogwrites

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jinnie-ret · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii I was wondering if you could possibly do a skz reaction to their s/o having angel fangs (like the piercing) like maybe they get them done without telling them or just them dating who has them if you're okay with it ofc, thank you for taking your time to read my request. I understand if you don't want to do it :] have a good day/ night

skz reaction to s/o with angel fangs

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

content warnings: none

word count: 1.3k

This is my first ever time writing a reaction fic so I hope you enjoy it!! :)))

I really enjoyed doing this one! Hope you have a good day/night too my lovely <3

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bang Chan

Chan loved his sweet girlfriend so so much. He thought you were the kindest person in the world and all he could ever think when he saw you was how sweet you are. Next to your shy temperament, you stood out in a different way to him with your silver angel fangs piercing.

"How can you be so cool and cute at the same time?" he admired you from where you were both cuddled on the sofa in the recording studio.

"Channie..." you blushed, hiding your face. He thought you'd be used to his compliments by now after being together for two years but no.

"I'm serious! It's making my brain... malfunction," he said, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"That's a good thing, right?" you boldly asked him, smiling.

"I can't with you, you're going to be the death of me," he squeezed you tighter in his arms.

Lee Know

Your boyfriend has his own quirks, his own habits that you had noticed ever since you met him, and one of them was poking the tips of your angel fangs. He was always pressing the pads of his fingers into the spikes.

"My little vampire girlfriend," he cooed as he didn't even look you in the eyes but stared at your lips and the jewellery adorning it.

"I'm not little," you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, okay I get it, 'careful I bite' and all that stuff your normally say," he teased, ruffling your hair as you groaned.

"If anything you're the vampire, it's like you want your fingers to bleed or something you weirdo," you folded your arms and rolled your eyes at him jokingly.

"You're not scary," he simply smirked back at your attempt to pretend to be angry, and that caused you both to crack a smile, the admiration you had for each other clear to see.

Changbin

He hadn't said anything yet. It had been 2 hours since you got back from the piercing studio and he'd said nothing.

"Sooooo, have you noticed?" you suddenly turned to him, making him choke on his glass of water.

"Of course I have! just didn't know what to say straight away..." Changbin said, deep in thought after recovering from the water incident.

"You don't like them?" you twiddled your thumbs awkwardly, sensing he didn't like them and he had kept himself quiet to not say anything that might hurt your feelings. At least he had your best interests in mind.

"No I love them... there's just too many words to describe how perfect you are," he turned you to face him, hand gently stroking your chin.

Oh.

So he did like them.

"Well, we've got time," you shrugged confidently, causing his hand to drop from your face as he whined.

"Stoppp! I was being cute!"

Hyunjin

He has just come back from dance practice and you were chilling in his room waiting to see him. You had just gotten the angel fangs piercing done today, and were expecting Hyunjin back anytime and wanted to see his reaction.

"Are we having a hotness competition or what?" he dropped his duffle bag with spare clothes on the floor, watching you relaxed on his bed.

"There's no competition, baby," you winked at him in an over the top way, making him giggle as he laid down next to you and admired them, caressing your cheek slowly with his hand as he analysed your face, like he was trying to burn it into his memory.

"You're staring," you whispered.

"Can't help it," he placed a chaste kiss upon your lips and pulled back to keep staring.

"You're like a magpie," you giggled, and he playfully whacked you on the arm as he rolled away from you and covered his face with his hand.

"You're such an idiot, Y/N!" he cackled.

Han

You walked back into the dorms, ready to see your boyfriend and surprise him, yet he seemed to have spotted you before you could have seen him, his blanket bundled self on the sofa now flying towards you.

"Baby? What did you do?" he gasped, slowly walking up to after his dramatic rise from relaxation.

"Look! Aren't they so cool?" you bounced on your toes, grinning with your fangs peeking under your lip, yet he was still worried.

"Did it hurt?!?" he fussed over you, lightly touching his own lip and wondering how it felt.

"A little bit... but it's worth it," you shrugged, still smiling lightly at him, his concern over you only making you feel fuzzy and warm.

"Beauty is pain, I get it," he nodded, eyes fixated on the shining jewellery.

"We should be matching," you winked at him.

"Oh no, I'll let you keep your tiger status my love," he waved you off, now pulling you into a tight hug and appreciating you, though you couldn't fully rest your head against him as he just wanted to keep admiring you.

Felix

Before you could even breathe, you heard the squeals of your excited boyfriend.

"You finally got them done!" he embraces you and forced you to jump around with him.

"Yes! Don't you think it looks good!" you stood back and started doing random poses to show off.

"It's literally perfect, so you!" Felix gushed, rushing to grab his phone.

"I knowww, I love it!" you blushed, happy that Felix liked how it looked too.

"Let me take photos for you, sweetheart," Felix took lots of photos, ones that you definitely posted on Instagram later, your favourite ones being where his head peeked into frame and kissed the piercings upon your lips.

Seungmin

A lot of Stays were shocked that such a clean cut idol, got with a girl who presented more of a punk image in her aesthetic. You were truly opposites, but that's what made you two work so well together.

The two of you were currently walking the streets of Seoul on a Sunday evening, hands clasped together.

"I'm getting weird looks again... I wish I never got these," you muttered sadly under your breath, feeling people's eyes dart to you, and it wasn't just your paranoia, you.kmew that this time.

"Why would you say such a thing?" Seungmin asked, upset on your behalf and feeling the same way himself that you were hurting.

"I just feel..." you trailed off, not really wanting to continue your sentence.

"Tell me," Seungmin insisted, pulling you over to a bench from the both of you to sit down on.

"I think people don't like me being with you and think I'm ruining your image," you sighed, absentmindedly tracing your finger against your angel fangs piercing in particular.

"If anything you're improving it, darling," Seungmin hushed you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and cuddling you to him, a delicate kiss on your forehead following the affectionate action.

You blushed and his your face, mumbling nonsensical words as you couldn't get a response out.

"Hahaha, don't go shy on me now," he laughed with a big grin on his face.

"You're too sweet to me," you smiled back up at him, peacefully taking in the city lights and basking in the warmth of your boyfriend's arms.

Jeongin

Wow, was the word most people used to describe the pair of you when they saw you together. Probably apart too.

You were a power couple plain and simple. Hot, muscular Jeongin, paired with a hot, pierced reader? Match made in heaven.

"What are you going to get done next?" Jeongin asked as you were both out getting coffee.

"Jeongin, I've literally had these for a couple of hours..." you facepalmed at your boyfriend, who although eager to see your new ones wanted to know how many more you'd get, already imagining all the different places available on your body where there was room.

"You're right, I need more time to obsess over these," he smirked and cockily raised his eyebrows as you from across the table.

"What am I gonna do with you?" you shook your head and lightly laughed at his antics.

tagged: @kiraisastay @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #stray kids reaction #reaction

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giantchasm · 5 months ago

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youtube

OWO what's this?

Just an animatic for the @kirbyoctournament that's a propaganda piece for my OC Peony featuring not one, not two, not three... but 54 other contestants!

I'll put a list of all featured OCs under the cut. I'm sorry if I didn't manage to fit yours in! There are so many OCs in this tourney I absolutely adore. Maybe if Peony makes it through to Round 5 I'll do another propaganda animatic featuring even more OCs.

But for now... vote Peony when her poll goes up tomorrow! And enjoy the wonderful cast of this little project.

EDIT: Peony’s poll is up! Give her a vote, if you’d like! It’d mean the world 💖

Every OC featured in the animatic, in order, from left to right:

@george228732's Fylass @a-stardusted-sky's Dazor @zombiecicada's Wolfbell

@karmapigeons' Ant-Hony Bellerose @shippyo's Life

@hadopelagicpsi's Aphelion @nautical-nova's Dawn @starlightintermezzo's Hyper Knight

@staring-at-a-blank-pagee's Starry Dee @pastille-pain's Qiri @springbreezes-and-peonies' Peony

@ivynajspyder's Techie @rosiegardenlove's Shade Knight

@kamalemons's Pink Lemonade Driblee @expy-ceri's Ceri @jaspermythic-8's Cryst

@taranzas-biggest-fan's Zerpy @kirbart90's Astro @shibuyatoastedcursor's Periwinkle

@poppybros-jr's Cosmo @c0ffee-7's Star @boa35's Anti

@m0x1ez's Moonstone @clairetimes' Moroshi @isaackkkbunn's Artemis

@cauliarty's Dotty @eliastheownerof0axolotls' Flower Waddle Dee @ceragolor's Lorelia

@maybeher0's Chiffon @sacrificecage's Mapobas @starmagnets' Vic

@waddledoodledee's Reclusa @unleashedsonic's Atlas @ceoofmetagala's Flora @moonsharkss' Whisp @starrygoober's Daisy Waddle Dee @dizzy-dudd's Rifty

@moonverc3x's J @aseuki's Parhelion Knight @starflungwaddledee's Starstruck Dee

@quanblovk's Sir Uther @desultory-novice's Noir Fontaine

@absolutely-zero-regrets's Clark @tailsdollr's Vulcan @galapathy's Guinevere @azzie-tangerine's Era Knight @kosmic-autokrat's Aife @windstriker427's Nighty Knight

(As well as musescfmusic's Storm Knight, pinkestmenace's Olympea, gethoce's Valfrey, and scrorchrend's Sorile, however I'm not tagging the owners of those OCs as I'd feel bad tagging them just for a shadowed back view of their characters. I ought to draw all of them properly eventually!)

And... of course, finally: @justalilstar's Night Terror and @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me's Sir Meteor: Peony's opponents in this upcoming round! Two truly fantastic characters, and I'm wishing them both the best of luck.

It was a blast getting to draw so many people's OCs! I'd love to do something similar again in the future. There are seriously so many awesome characters featured in the tourney that this is barely even scratching the surface. I hope everyone enjoyed their little cameos!

#kirby oc tournament #peony haltmann #kirby #i churned this out in like a week...... yeeowch #i tried to balance the ocs featured between like... ocs who are 'canonically' peony's friends #and ocs who i just think are interesting and cool and have fun designs or backstories #either way a 5-star cast

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saltyfryz · 1 year ago

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Made Starlet in @ayyy-imma-ninja 's fairy au! :D go check em out!!!

AND WE GOT LORE!!!

Starlet was born from a shooting star and he gets power from, get this, STARS! Revolutionary, I know.

He is a 'Stardrop' fairy, him and other Stardrop fairies help to guide the lost to safety by lighting themselves aflame and leading them. While most of these fairies are not malicious, some of them have grown a hatred towards humanity and often lead them astray becoming what humans call "will-o-whisps"

Stardrop fairies are completely flame retardant

You can tell the age of a Stardrop fairy by the color of their skin. Like actual stars they change colors depending on their age, blue being the oldest while red is the youngest.

Starlet is the youngest of 12 siblings, and is considered a runt as he is quite smaller than the rest of his family, being half the size of a regular fairy. Possibly a few inches smaller than Lunar.

He's very adventurous and LOVES to run around on the ground from time to time, sure, flying is fun but so is exploring the dirt!

#my art #starlet #starlet au #dca fairy au #meg if youre seeing this #im sorry if my starlet lore breaks away from og fairy au lore #art and info dump

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utterlyotterlyx · 10 months ago

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10:35

Ruhn Danaan x Fem!Reader

Summary - After throwing his weight around, Ruhn comes to you to apologise, but you have other plans.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of s*x, Ruhn being fed up with your crap but loving you anyway, angst, fluff

Gods.

Gods were you annoying. You pushed his buttons daily, teetering on the edge of driving him to madness before pulling him back with passionate kisses.

Gods did he hate you sometimes, but he loved you more than anything, more than anyone.

Especially when you were prancing about his place wearing nothing but a thong and one his shirts that barely fell past your ass cheeks. Usually Ruhn was delighted to come home to you, you'd usually be sat with Tristan watching Sunball and enjoying a few beers; he'd come up behind you and bury his head into the crook of your neck and inhale your scent before kissing your shoulder and jumping over the edge to settle in beside you.

He knew it was coming, your bold defiance, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Ruhn looked at his phone, frowning at your text exchange and wondering how it had gotten so heated. He had told you off, scolded you like a child for partying too hard with Bryce and neglecting your responsibilities. Ruhn knew better.

Everyone was allowed to let loose, to enjoy their shitty lives, Ruhn knew that better than anyone.

You hated being told what to do, it had taken so long for Ruhn to break that cycle in you, to idly agree to everything even if you didn't want to. Breaking that cycle had turned you strong and independent, you promised yourself that you'd never be controlled again. In public at least.

He hadn't meant it, he hadn't meant to belittle you and reprimand you, he certainly didn't mean to throw his title in your face and make you feel like you were worth less than he was. It had just gotten heated, and he hoped he could fix it before you truly believed that he felt that way.

So, when he entered the home that he shared with Tristan and Declan, and you, ready to apologise and fuck you so good that the exchange became a hazed memory, the last thing he ever thought he'd see was you dressed in the things you knew made him weak, sat beside Tristan in a glazed state with potent smoke curling around your mouth as you exhaled a grey cloud of mirthroot into the air.

The smile on you face was lazy, laced with complete relaxation, soft low giggles emitted from your lips, your lids were slightly squinted and your cheeks were swollen from past tears, flushed and tinged.

A bowl of popcorn was wedged in the space between you and Tristan, which was a good thing, because if it wasn't there Ruhn would have grabbed Tristan by the scruff of his neck and beat him into oblivion. The tv was set to a comfortable volume, Fangs and Bangs clear on the display, and the light illuminated your face, the small whisps of hair that had fallen from your messily thrown together updo, and the sports logo plastered to the front of that shirt.

Tristan noticed him first, that hazed giddiness that Ruhn knew all too well clear on his face, "Look who's here. It's none other than the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae himself," Tristan drawled and you turned slowly, your senses dimmed and mind moving at five miles an hour.

Your expression was blank as you looked at him, scanned his ripped black jeans and black shirt, his hair was tied back with two thick slices framing his face, he tongued the piercing in his lip, and his stare would have made you feel uncomfortable if you weren't already on another planet entirely.

"Fangs and Bangs? Didn't realise you were into this crap, Tristan," Ruhn took a step toward you, hissing at himself when you abruptly turned back to face the tv, taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

Tristan inhaled the mirthroot deeply, a cough catching in his chest before the smoke cloud spurted from his mouth, he wafted the smoke away from his face and Ruhn watched it rise to the heavens, "I didn't put this shit on. This is all, Y/N."

"Give me that," you held you hand out to him, Tristan delicately placed your shared pleasure between your fingers, "I'll have you know that Fangs and Bangs is perfect for high-time television," you blew a smoke cloud at Tristan's face and smirked, lying back into the comfort of the sofa, not caring where Ruhn went next.

You were furious with him. How dare he take a swipe at you for going out, and with Bryce of all people, when he spent many hours away from you partying through the night. How dare he talk about responsibility and throw his name around to grasp some form of submission from you.

The cushions shifted under a new weight, you were determined not to look at him, to not give in, but as soon as those calloused fingers found your thigh and squeezed, you were weak. Like putty in his hands.

"Sweetheart," he cooed to you, dragging his fingers up and down your bare thigh, making you regret wearing so little as his fingertips left speckles of fire hissing on your skin. "Please look at me," his voice was low and husky, he didn't want Tristan to hear his whispering pleads to you or forever be teased.

Shrugging his touch off of you, involuntarily shuddering at vacant spot where his hand lay only moments before, you felt your phone vibrate, the screen lighting up with Bryce's name.

"What's up?" Ruhn tensed, of course Bryce would swoop in and interrupt his shit attempts to apologise to you, "Yeah, he's here. I don't know. What? Now?" Ruhn faintly heard his sisters voice chattering away through the device, he noticed your frown turn into mischievous delight, "What a great idea, Bryce. Exactly what I need, I'll see you soon. Love you."

You put the phone down and sighed, "Out again?"

Smirking, you jumped up from the sofa and walked around the edge of the sofa where a bewildered Ruhn was staring up at you, "Yep. White Raven. Bryce is coming to pick me up so I better get ready."

Without another word, you sauntered from the room, leaving Ruhn with his angry swirling thoughts. Tristan whistled, pulling Ruhn's attention from the doorway you had just strutted out from, "This is what happens when you pull rank with the one person you know loves you for you and nothing else."

Twenty minutes had passed, Bryce had barged in and flipped Ruhn off with a death glare before pattering up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. They had listened to your hushed giggles and shuffling about on the floor above, turning toward the entry when the faint click of heels sounded against the bare wood.

There you were, clad in a skin tight black dress adorned by a thousand tiny crystals that shimmered in an array of shades when you hit the light at a certain angle. Pair that with a pair of knee high heeled boots, and you had officially succeeded in making Ruhn a needy worried mess. Your makeup was simple, radiant shimmers on your cheekbones and nose, eyeliner and long lashes, and glossed nude lips.

Bryce ran her fingers through your hair, separating any knots she found and fluffing it around your face, "Let's go. Fury and Juniper are waiting for us. Girl's night!" Ruhn's amber eyed sister, and one of your best friends, dragged you from the room without so much as a goodbye to the two males staring at them from in front of the tv.

The White Raven was thrumming with eclectic energy. Sweat evaporating and clinging to the air.

You couldn't remember what time you had left, you didn't know how long you'd be dancing. You didn't know how many shots Bryce had forced down your throat. You were just happy and free.

Ruhn had looked so desperate to touch you, those big pleading violet eyes screaming at you to look at him. You knew he had a lot on his plate, his father didn't exactly agree of your relationship but Ruhn had somehow been able to convince him that when the time came you'd be the perfect person to have beside him. It made you feel bad, he was just trying to protect you in a way, to secure your place beside him, and you'd pranced about in your underwear high as a kite before dressing up and heading out. Again.

Gods, you were so fucking stupid.

But you didn't let your regret show, you were too stubborn for that, a fact Ruhn knew far too well.

Bodies kept on bumping into you as the music became heavier, the bass louder, the drinks stronger. Bryce was holding onto you and swaying, muttering about how Hunt wouldn't be happy with her if she woke him up again. Apparently he'd had a long day. Just like Ruhn.

Running your hands through your hair and up to the sky, you felt arms wrap around your waist, that familiar nose and chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Spice and leather. Kisses peppered along your shoulder and his arms pulled you tighter into his chest, low growls flowing from his lips when people bumped into you.

The lights were low, slices of purple and blue flickering through the club, but you could faintly make out Tristan at the bar and Hunt swaying with Bryce. They'd crashed girls night.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he ran a finger up your arm, across your chest, and along your jaw, pulling your chin toward him, "There she is," he cooed, pushing your hair from your face so that he could really see you.

"What do you want, Ruhn? You've already crashed girls night," you huffed, folding your arms over you chest whilst the world continued to party around you.

You were never going to be able to refuse him, but you could at least make him grovel a bit.

Ruhn ducked his head, lowering it to meet your eye line, he was so intoxicating, everything inside of you screamed to reach for him, to drag him into a bathroom stall and fuck it all out.

"I'm so sorry," he told you, holding your stare, "I never should have gotten angry at you, I never should have tried to tell you what to do. We worked so hard to get you out of that headspace," he pulled you flush against his chest and tilted your head up, his breath fanned across your face, "I love you, Y/N. So. Fucking. Much." Ruhn was trying to control himself, you deserved an apology before he fucked you senseless and made you his over and over again.

"I had the worst day. My father is breathing down my neck right now, and I just want you safe and by my side for the rest of my life. It's stupid but I'm scared he'll try and take you away from me. Not like I'd ever let him but, I'm afraid he'll catch wind of the wild nights and think you're unworthy. You're not in any sense, you love me for me and I know nothing else matters to you, I know that. I'm sorry I let him get in my head, I'm so sorry I used my name against you, I wasn't thinking."

Those violet pools were desperate, glazed over and sad, and it broke you to see him like that.

"Ruhn," you pressed your forehead to his, brushing your nose against his, "I'm sorry too. I should have kept in mind how important this is to you. I'm sorry for being stubborn and trying to piss you off. I know you'd never want to make me feel small. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for."

"Ruhn-"

"Nothing," he hummed, pulling your face to his in a kiss you had shared so many times, full of so much love and yearning and hope that every day would be filled with them. "Plus, it was kinda hot seeing you in my shirt like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he laughed against your lips, deepening the next and relishing in the taste of you, "Let me take you home, Sweetheart. The things I want to do to you aren't to be heard by others."

Ruhn Danaan knew three things with absolute certainty:

That you were the most beautiful, fearless creature he'd ever encountered

That he couldn't wait to get you home and settle you onto his face

He knew that the morning would be the perfect time to grab that velvet emerald box from his sock drawer and promise to love you for eternity

#fanfiction #imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #ruhn danaan #ruhn x reader #bryce quinlan #bryce x hunt #hunt athalar #tristan flynn #crescent city imagine #crescent city

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