#shaky hands day so this is very very wobbly but
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#shaky hands day so this is very very wobbly but#t4t#t4t art#fat character#fat positive#nonbinary#trans#cryptidart#marmalade#blade#marilla#playing blade this evening and they will be starting off together
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can you do with rafe and !reader who faints a lot during showers or just gets very lightheaded/has vasovagal episodes and can you just write like the things he does for you?
lamy's notes: i hope you like it!
the first time it happened, rafe didn’t even realize what was going on until he heard the thud. he’d been lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, when the sound of you hitting the shower floor jolted him upright, his heart slamming in his chest.
he was at the bathroom door in an instant, throwing it open without a second thought. steam billowed out, and there you were, crumpled in the corner of the shower, the water still running over you. his mind went blank with panic for half a second before instinct took over.
“y/n, hey, hey, baby,” he muttered, dropping to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he reached for you. he turned the water off first, then gently propped you up against the cool tiles. “hey, can you hear me?”
your eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, and he let out a shaky breath, relief crashing through him. “what the hell happened?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.
“just got… lightheaded,” you mumbled, your words slurring a little. “i’m okay.”
“okay? you scared the shit out of me,” he said, cradling your face in his hands like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. “jesus, you’re freezing.”
from that day on, he’d made it his mission to make sure it never happened again. if you were going to shower, so was he. it didn’t matter what he was doing; he’d drop everything the second you said you were heading to the bathroom.
“just in case,” he’d say, his tone light but his eyes serious. he’d sit on the counter, cracking jokes and tossing you a towel before you even asked for it, his presence steady and comforting.
some days, when you were especially tired or feeling off, he’d insist on staying right outside the door. “yell if you need me,” he’d call, and you knew he meant it. you could practically picture him sitting there, legs stretched out, scrolling his phone but keeping an ear out for any sign that you needed him.
he started keeping a small stash of things in the bathroom just for you—a bottle of water, a pack of crackers, even a tiny fan he’d mounted to the wall to keep the room from getting too hot. “just in case,” he’d say again, shrugging like it was no big deal, but you could see the way he checked you over every time, his eyes scanning you for any signs of trouble.
on the nights when you’d get that familiar wave of lightheadedness, the kind that made your knees wobble and your vision blur, he’d wrap an arm around you without a word, guiding you to sit down on the cool tiles until it passed. “deep breaths, baby,” he’d murmur, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.
it didn’t matter how many times it happened—he never got annoyed, never made you feel like a burden. if anything, it seemed like he’d made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to be your anchor when the world spun too fast.
sometimes, he’d just step into the shower with you, his hands gentle as he helped you wash your hair or rubbed your shoulders when you were too tired to do it yourself. “just lean on me, okay?” he’d say, his voice soft, water dripping off his face as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
on the tougher days, he’d insist on being in there from start to finish, his eyes never leaving you. he’d prop you up against his chest, his arms around your waist, holding you steady as the warm water cascaded over both of you. “it’s okay, i’ve got you,” he’d murmur, his voice steady and grounding.
when you’d protest that he didn’t need to, he’d just shake his head. “you think i’m gonna risk it? no way,” he’d say, his lips quirking into a small smile. “plus, it’s kind of nice. makes me feel useful.”
“not gonna let you hit the floor again,” he’d say with a small, determined smile, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. and you believed him.
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practice makes perfect
bestfriend jisung x reader
genre: smut 18+, fluff (if you squint)
wc: 6.05k
synopsis: you have a crush on jaehyun whos a year above you in college, but you’re so inexperienced it makes you think that he will never look at you. so who will help you if not your best friend?
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
you didn’t want to ask jisung for help. in fact, you were avoiding it, trying to find other ways, because it was insane and he was your best friend since childhood.
and asking your best friend to help you learn how to kiss so you didn’t screw it up with your silly little crush? yeah, that was the craziest thing you ever were about to do.
“hey, sung,” you start, trying to sound casual but failing as your voice cracks mid sentence.
jisung glances up briefly, raising an eyebrow. “what’s up?”
you hesitate, chewing on your hoodie string as your palms grow sweaty. why is this so hard? you can’t even ask him a simple question?
“uh, so…” you trail off, your voice dropping as you struggle to get the words out. “hypothetically speaking… if someone wanted to, like… learn how to do something… how would they, uh, go about it?”
jisung stares at you for a moment, blinking in confusion. “you gotta narrow that down for me, y/n. what are we talking about? gaming? cooking? math?”
“oh my god, no,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. this was already so much worse than you imagined.
“relax, relax,” he says, setting his phone down, which made you peek at him through your fingers. “what’s going on?”
you take a deep breath, you kept reminding yourself, if you didn’t just say it, you would never going to get through this.
“i… kind of have a crush on jaehyun.” you admit quickly, the words tumbling out as if you were rushing.
jisungs brows shoot up, and for a split second, something unreadable flickers across his face before his expression turns into something neutral. “uh, okay. and?”
“and… i want him to notice me,” you continue, heat rising to your face. “but i don’t know what i’m doing. i mean, he’s cool, and experienced, and i’m just…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at yourself.
jisung tilts his head, his lips pressing into a slight frown. “you’re just what?”
“a loser, jisung,” you groan, slumping forward dramatically. “i’ve never even kissed anyone, and what if he finds out and thinks i’m, like, a lost cause?”
jisung opens his mouth, probably to argue against the whole “loser��� thing, but you cut him off, too embarrassed.
“so, i was thinking…” you pause, glancing at him nervously. “maybe you could, um, help me.”
“help you?” he repeats, narrowing his eyes slightly.
“yeah. like, practice?” you wave your hands vaguely, trying to look like you haven’t been agonizing over this for days. “y’know… kissing.”
jisung stares at you like you’ve just sprouted a second head.
you don't think you ever were this embarrassed before. you had always hung out in your best friends room, but the reason behind this visit had made you want the ground to swallow you whole.
your voice felt shaky as it cut through the silence of jisungs bedroom. "i just think it'd be better if i... y'know... knew what i was doing. i can't ask jaehyun to... y'know, like—" you swallowed as you tried to not repeat the words again. your face heated up at the thought of finishing the sentence, "to teach me how to kiss if we ever do it."
jisung, sitting on his gaming chair, nervously fiddled with his hoodie string. he moved his head in a way that made his messy black hair flop into his eyes to avoid looking directly at you. "are you, like, actually being serious right now?"
"very serious." you said with a poor attempt of trying to sound confident, but the way your voice was wobbly instantly gave you away, which only made him blink in irritation. "i-i mean, i can't... i don't want to fuck up if he–"
you closed your mouth, hesitating as you clutched one of his pillows tighter to your chest, sitting on the edge of his bed. talking to him was always easy for you, since he understood you in ways no one else could. but sometimes his ability to read you made things worse, as he was making you aware of how much of a loser you actually were.
after he sensed that you weren't completing your sentence, he tilted his head and exhaled hard. "so, if i understand correctly," he rested his chin on the back of his hand. “you want me to help you practice… for some guy? jeong jaehyun specifically?”
you squirmed. his delivery made it sound as stupid as it was. in fact, this made no sense. who asks their best friend for— gosh.
you were already too deep in to start laughing and tell him it was a joke and he was silly for falling for it, and his slightly wide eyes made it seem like he wasn’t totally opposed to this idea (which mattered way more than it should’ve).
“um… yeah,” you croaked. jisung ran a hand through his hair like he was suddenly going to come up with an excuse, but something in his eyes, the awkward confidence, tipped you off. he never really refused your offer.
“i know you never make good decisions, but this is seriously the worst idea you have ever had in your life,” he muttered, though you could tell the amusement in his tone. before you processed his reaction, he leaned forward, clasped his hands, and finished his sentence, “but okay.”
your heart skipped a beat, “okay?” you almost stuttered, “like… okay okay?”
“yeah, okay okay.” he huffed and scratched the back of his neck as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “i’ll help, but just practice,” his tone was serious, “if it gets weird, we stop. alright?”
you nodded quickly, “alright.”
“and don’t tell anyone about this.” he said, holding up a finger like you were a toddler.
“obviously,” you answered, which only earned you a smirk from him. a smirk that made your stomach flip. why is he suddenly smirking at you?
there is a beat of silence before jisung slides off his chair, kneeling awkwardly in front of you, where you’re perched on his bed. his height still towers over you a bit, but the soft flush creeping up his neck made you realise you weren’t the only one that was nervous.
“um… you want to start now?” he asked quietly, as if he was shy. you nodded again, your mouth running faster than your brain, “unless you’re scared of me or something.”
“y/n,” he groaned like he wanted to pull his hair out, “why are you making things harder than they should be?”
despite his words, his laugh was gentle, and maybe even fond. you bite your lip as he carefully shifts closer until your knees bump against him.
“you’re sure about this, right?” he whispers, and when you nod, he leans forward slowly, like he’s scared to startle you.
his plump lips brush yours gently at first, as if he’s giving you time to back out. his hand awkwardly lingers in the air near your shoulder, before settling there. you can barely think straight, you would’ve never thought that jisung, nerdy and awkward, would’ve been this careful and soft. you clutch onto him and his breath hitches which only makes your face burn ever more.
“just practice,” he whispers as his lips meet yours in hesitation. as you deepen the kiss, it doesn’t really feel like practicing.
he pulls back and rests his forehead on yours. you could feel his warm breath against your lips. he quickly opens his eyes, nervously trying to read you, as if he was trying to figure out if you regret it, or if he should stop.
you don’t say a word, you’re too shocked from the fact that you’re enjoying this, considering that heat was pooling in your lower stomach.
“y/n,” he whispers so quietly that it almost got swallowed by the tense air in the room. it took all your courage to swallow and look back up at him, “was that okay?” you whisper, and you feel your cheeks get red because of how nervous you sounded.
his lips twitched, which you realised was an effort to give you a reassuring smile, “yeah” he says, then he lets out a small laugh, glancing to the side to avoid eye contact, “it was more than okay.”
you blink in surprise, and then open your mouth to say something, but you can’t form words, “really?” you finally blurt something out.
you noticed his ears turn red as he retreated. “i mean, not that i do this often, i just— um… you’re—“ his voice disappears into thin air as he slides his hand up to scratch his head in embarrassment.
you would’ve chuckled and called him cute if it didn’t plant a fucked up idea in your head, the type of idea that you’re half shy to say out loud.
but once again, your mouth works faster than your brain, “should we keep going?” you blurt it out, and before you process what you said, jisung freezes.
his mouth opens and closes, but there’s no words coming out of him. “it’s not fair if i practice once,” your voice is trembling, “i mean, i have to— i should get used to, like, more….i need— i’m gonna mess up with jaehyun if i—“
“okay, stop.” jisung cuts you off suddenly, his hands coming up as he was surrendering, “i get it.”
your stomach drops at the look on his face until he settles back on his knees, leaning forward again. “we will go slow, and if you feel too overwhelmed,” his voice is so low and serious that it makes your throat tighten. “we will stop immediately, no questions.”
you nod nervously. his thumb brushes across your jaw, leaning in closer until his lips meet yours again. his lips part slightly, guiding yours open, which sends a shiver down your spine. you gasp quietly, and the sound might have gotten a reaction out of him, because he slides his hand up your hoodie, not that you don’t enjoy it.
jisungs tongue flickers against your lip in such hesitant and sweet manner that it made you instinctively arch closer and let your knees drift apart slightly. you didn’t think that this tiny shift would change anything.
the hand bracing your cheek falters and before you know it, both of you sink onto his bed, almost deliberately. as the soft mattress hugs your back, he positions himself above you, his eyes darkened.
his lips hover over yours again, “still okay?” he asks, his voice painted in roughness.
“y-yeah,” you whisper, your heart racing so loud that you’re pretty sure he hears it too.
when he kisses you again for the third time, it must be something about the pressure, the position you two are in, or the way he worries so much about you, that unlocks something in you that you never knew existed.
you feel his hand slide down, his fingers trembling as they graze the hem of your hoodie. his hesitation makes your brain almost shut down, and maybe that’s why you let your hand find his wrist and grab it, guiding him beneath the fabric of your clothes.
“y/n,” he groans softly against your lips, his voice being desperate, a sound that you had never expected to hear from… him.
his breath grows unsteady as his fingers slide higher, slightly trembling as they run over the bare skin beneath your hoodie. as this is unfamiliar to you, you wonder if you should say something, maybe a joke to ease the tension, but the moment feels so.. raw. you never felt this close w him before. so you don’t.
instead, you shift your hips slightly, just enough to send a signal to him. the movement makes jisungs face scrunch, as if he was struggling to keep himself together. his forehead dips against your shoulder as his breath brushes ovee your collarbone.
“y/n…” he says in a tone that sends a shiver down your spine. your hand searches for his wrist again, and when you find him, you guide it lower, past your waistband. you feel him freeze, his fingers stiffen up against the elastic, which makes you think that he’s going to pull away.
the bubble of disappointment forming in your mind was popped when you felt him exhale. his touch inches lower, “i don’t…” his voice is barely audible, “i don’t want to mess this up.” you look away, hiding your face from him, “you won’t. just… please?”
that must be enough for him because his fingers immediately slip beneath your underwear, sliding hesitantly across the slick and sensitive skin. the first touch makes you gasp, clutching his hoodie.
“is this okay?” he asks as his fingers explore you in slow and cautious movements.
“yeah,” you answer, your hips slightly jerking at the sensation, “jisung, it’s— yeah.”
his lips graze the side of your neck as his hand continues. his thumb circles around your most sensitive spot, which draws a soft whimper from you. for a second, you feel him freeze, as if he’s stunned by the sound, but he quickly gets back to doing what he was doing.
he shifts slightly, his free hand bracing beside your head as he adjusts his weight. you notice that he somehow got more confident, as his fingers gets braver, now slipping inside you carefully. the stretch is new to you, but it’s comfortable, and it makes your breath hitch.
jisung immediately slows, “is it too much?” he asks, his voice low, but you can feel his hand twitch where it rests against your waist.
you shake your head, pulling him close by the collar of his hoodie. “no, it’s… it feels—“ your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers curl into you, brushing against a spot that makes your whole body tense.
“oh,” jisung breathes, his movements pausing for a second before he adjusts his angle, pressing into that spot again with tentative strokes. “is that— does that feel good?”
“yeah,” you gasp, nodding helplessly. you’re clinging to him as you feel your mind turn foggy, not being able to form a thought, the only thing you can process is the way his fingers feel inside of you.
now that he figured out what you like, his lips brush against yours slowly again as his fingers pick up a rhythm. your legs tremble as the pressure builds. you don’t even notice the desperate noises spilling from your lips until jisung mutters, “baby, you’re so—“
he’s not able to finish his sentence, because your hips arched against his hand instead, he swallows the rest of the sentence in a kiss.
his fingers press deeper, curling just right, and it makes you overwhelmed by the pleasure. the way his face is so close to you, his lips brushing yours, giving you small kisses, it’s almost too romantic.
though, you can tell he’s still hesitating, but the heat pooling low in your stomach makes you want to beg for more. each movement makes you tremble beneath him, clutching on his hoodie like it helps you regain composure, but it still felt like everything else was blurring.
“tell me if i’m… if it’s too much,” he says, his voice soft. his free hand shifts to your waist, his thumb brushing against your cold skin.
“it’s not,” you manage to answer, your mind still foggy. you watch as his brows furrow and his lips part, unsure of what he said.
he shifts his angle slightly, trying something new again, and it feels so good that you bite your lip to stifle a whimper (unsuccessfully). it’s almost like he’s surprised at the way you react, but it doesn’t make him stop. he picks up a faster pace, which draws sounds that you never knew you were capable of making. you can barely think, or even form any thoughts. all you know is how jisung feels, how patient, careful, and focused he is.
he’s watching you attentively, like your every reaction is fascinating, like he wants to memorise what makes you squirm and shake beneath him. “does this feel good?” he stammered.
you nod desperately, gripping his clothes tighter, your body curling as that tight and burning pressure inside you slowly starts building up. “it does,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips shift, almost matching his rhythm. “jisung, it— i—“ your eyes roll back in pleasure as you moan his name out.
you don’t realise how close you are until you feel the heat overtaking you completely, the sharp pull in your stomach snapping. you tremble under him, the rush of release washing over you in waves. the way you cry out makes jisung freeze before he slows down, guiding you through it, he somehow knows exactly what to do.
when you finally come down, he stops, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, his face is flushed, his pupils blown wide, but there’s something behind his expression, it’s so soft that it makes your chest ache. you don’t even want to imagine how you look like right now.
you blink up at him, still catching your breath, somehow still managing to smile. “that…” your words trail off, and your face burns hotter than before.
jisung looks down at you his fingers still lightly resting against your skin, “did i do okay?” he asks timidly, as though he’s genuinely unsure, despite the way your body feels like it’s still floating.
you let out a small laugh, nodding as you reach up to cup his cheek. your voice is quieter than you expect when you reply, "yeah, jisung. you did... really okay."
the blush that overtakes his face is so red that it makes you laugh again. he collapses onto the bed next to you with a groan, flopping onto his back. his arm is draped lightly over your stomach, like he can’t quite bring himself to let go completely.
for a minute, neither of you says anything, the only sound in the room being your breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner. your cheeks still feel hot, no, your entire body feels hot, but you can’t stop the small, breathless laugh that bubbles out of you. jisung turns his head, “what’s so funny?”
you glance at him, catching the faint pink on his ears and the way his messy hair sticks up at odd angles. he looks so much like his usual dorky self that you almost forget what just happened. almost.
“i just…” you trail off, biting your lip to hide another laugh before finally giving in. “i can’t believe you used to help me with building sandcastles, but this is what we’re doing now.”
jisung stares at you for a beat, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh too, but then he snorts loudly, the sound bursting out of him before he can stop it.
“oh my god, y/n.” he covers his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “why would you say that?”
“because it’s true!” you answer, grinning now, the tension in your chest unraveling as the laughter overtakes you both. “like… think about it. you used to help me build those stupid towers with the little flags, and now you’ve got your fingers, like—”
“stop, stop, stop,” his voice cracks as he rolls over, burying his face in his pillow. “don’t finish that sentence.”
you’re both laughing so hard now that tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you don’t even care how ridiculous you sound. it’s stupid and awkward and so perfectly the two of you.
jisung finally lifts his head, still grinning like an idiot, and nudges you lightly with his elbow. “okay, but really, sandcastles were way easier. i didn’t have to worry about… ruining anything.” his voice dips at the end, quieter, and you blink at the sudden shift, your laughter fading just a bit.
“you didn’t ruin anything,” you say softly, bumping your shoulder against his. “i mean… i think you were so amazing, actually.”
jisung’s ears turn red again, and he scrambles to sit up, looking everywhere but at you. “don’t say stuff like that,” he mutters, tugging on the strings of his hoodie like they might save him from combusting. “you’re gonna make this weird.”
“weirder than it already is?” you tease, tilting your head with a smirk.
he groans, hiding his face in his hands. “god, i hate you.”
but there’s no edge to his words, and when you sit up too, nudging your knee against his, he glances at you through his fingers with a shy smile.
“i’m serious,” you say quietly. “thank you. for, y’know… helping me.”
jisung drops his hands, his gaze softening. “yeah. of course.” then he grins, all nervous energy again. “but i am never going to be able to look at a sandcastle without losing it now.”
you shove him lightly, laughing again, and he catches your hand before you can pull away, holding onto it. he shifts closer on the bed, his hand still holding yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “so…” his voice is low and nervous, “did the practice, like, actually help?”
you look at him, your cheeks flushing when you realised just how much ‘practice’ you had gone through. “um… yeah” you say nervously while intertwining your fingers with his, “it definitely helped me,”
he smiles a little at your response, but his gaze was flickering on your lips. the way he looks at you makes your heart flutter in ways it shouldn’t.
“…this isn’t practice anymore, is it?” he says quietly as his lips brush yours.
this isn’t about jaehyun anymore. actually, it hasn’t been for a while now. you were fully aware of that, and judging by his words, and actions, he knows it too. “no,” you whisper back, tilting your face up to him, “it’s not.”
the kiss that follows up is different. it’s not hesitant like before, but it perfectly conveys the desperation of you. jisungs hand cups your face as his lips move against yours and he pulls you closer to him. you softly sigh into the kiss and let your hands slide up and tangle in his hair.
his weight shifts, gently easing you down onto the mattress, “baby,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you with his flushed face, “is this okay? like, are you sure about it?”
“yes,” you reply, though your voice was trembling a bit. “it’s okay.”
as you answer, his lips find yours again, his hands start smoothing over your sides and he settles between your thighs. you arch into him as he shifts his hips against yours, the pressure sending pleasure through your entire body.
jisung hesitates for a moment before reaching down to tug at the hem of his hoodie. his hands fumbled slightly as the fabric caught on his wrists, but you didn’t care. all you could do was watch as his pale skin was revealed inch by inch until he pulled the hoodie over his head and let it drop to the floor beside him.
you don’t realise you’re tugging at your own hoodie until his hands shift closer to you to help you with it. as the hoodie slips off your shoulders, he tosses it to the side. he glances at you like he’s about to say something but isn’t sure if he should.
“stop staring at me like that,” your face was burning, you couldn’t even look at him.
“sorry, it’s just…” he pauses, his hand brushing your waist as his hands were slightly trembling, “you’re so… pretty.”
the vulnerability in his voice makes your heartbeat faster than it already was. you’re not even sure how to respond, so instead you reach for him, sliding your hands over his skin.
you arch up slightly, your lips meeting his again in a kiss, and his hands rest on your waist. your hands slide down his chest before moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. you hesitate for a moment, biting your lips as you look up at him for permission. jisung swallows hard, his blush more prominent as he nods. “i mean, if you’re sure,” he says quickly, his voice almost cracking. “i’m sure,” you reassure him.
tugging down at the fabric of his sweatpants was so messy, both of you were fumbling with nervous hands, a quiet giggle breaking through the tension when the elastic got stuck on his knee. “this is nothing like it seems in movies,” jisung says with your laugh following up soon after.
“you’re fine,” you answered, pushing him onto his back so you could help slide the fabric off completely. his boxers remain, for now.
your clothes follow soon after, first your jeans, which jisung awkwardly helped you get out of, and then, with his encouragement, your panties.
there’s a moment of silence as you lay back beneath him. he hovers above you, his lips slightly parted as his eyes undress you once again.
“you’re so… beautiful, y/n,” he says while his gaze stays fixed on you.
“stop,” you mumble, looking away, you don’t want him to see how red your cheeks are.
“i mean it,” he insists, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your collarbone. he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, glancing down at you as if he’s making sure you’re ready.
when you nod, his hands move carefully as he slides the last barrier away. your heart skips a beat when you realise what is about to happen.
he hovers over you again, his hand slipping down to your waist as he shifts closer, positioning himself. “if i, um… if something feels wrong, just tell me,” he whispers, his face not leaving yours, “i don’t want to hurt you.”
you nod, your heart softening at his caring tone, “i will, ji, don’t worry.”
he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again, it’s so slow and sweet, there’s so much affection in it. after letting nervous giggles out, he finally presses in you. he pauses immediately, his face scanning yours as his brows furrow.
“does it hurt?” he asks, his voice containing worry.
it does, a little, but it’s not unbearable, you shake your head quickly, forcing a small smile, “it’s fine, just… go slow?”
he exhales, nodding as he leans in again to press a kiss to your temple, “yeah, slow, okay,” the way he’s so patient and gentle almost breaks you. his hands find yours and laces your fingers together as he moves slowly, giving you time to adjust. every time you tense, or your breath changes, he stops immediately, waiting for your breath to settle before continuing.
"you're doing so good," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "just tell me what you need, okay?"
it's overwhelming in the best way. the soft way he speaks to you, the warmth of his hand squeezing yours when he feels you clench around him, the way his kisses linger against your neck like he's trying to reassure you without words.
"jisung," you say, your voice shaky yet enough to cut through his concentration.
he glances down at you quickly, "what? am i hurting you?”
"no," you say quickly, tightening your grip on his hand. “you’re just… so attractive.”
his face flushes immediately, and he lets out a soft, nervous laugh, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder. "oh my god, don't say that, i’ll mess it all up if you keep saying stuff like that."
"you're not gonna mess anything up," you reply, your free hand sliding into his hair. "you're perfect."
his movements falter for just a moment before he lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours. for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unknown. then, he leans down and kisses you again, but harder this time.
everything about the moment feels impossibly close, his warmth, his voice murmuring your name, the way he doesn't let go of your hand even for a second.
your bodies move together, you're still holding jisungs hand, your fingers gripping his. "you're doing so good," he murmurs again, his voice uneven as he dips his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
the sincerity in his tone makes your chest feel too tight, and you're sure he can feel the way your heartbeat thuds erratically under his touch.
"jisung," you breathe, his name slipping past your lips.
he looks at you, his eyes wide, "i'm here," he whispers, his free hand brushing softly against your waist. "i've got you."
every shift, every deepening stroke sends another wave of heat through you, drawing you closer and closer to a breaking point you didn't realise you were this close to.
his movements grow shakier, his breaths coming in sharp, unsteady bursts against your neck. you can tell he's right there too, holding on just as tightly as you are.
"i can't—“ your voice cuts off into a soft gasp as your body tenses beneath him, your grip on his hand tightening. “jisung, i—“
"it's okay," he says quickly, his words coming out quiet as his own body trembles. "i've got you. just... let go, baby. i'm right here."
his voice is all it takes for you to finish. your whole body tenses, the heat unfurling in an overwhelming wave that leaves you breathless, trembling beneath him. the sounds that escape your lips are ones you've never heard before, they’re so soft and broken.
jisungs movements become less controlled as the tension in his body builds. the little sounds he's making, soft gasps and quiet groans are etched into your memory already, the closeness of it all making your chest tighten.
his lips are on your neck, brushing against your skin in a way that feels comforting, as though he's using you to keep himself grounded. his free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his touch delicate.
"y/n," he whispers, his voice shaking as he presses deeper, his breath hot against your ear. "i’m— god, i can't— where—“
you understand immediately, the frantic edge in his voice mirroring the way your own body still feels like it's vibrating from release.
"it's okay," you whimper, your hands clutching at his shoulders, "you can—“ you pause, your words catching in your throat before you nod softly, pulling him even closer. "inside, jisung. it's okay."
his whole body shudders at your words, and he lets out a soft, broken moan as his rhythm stutters. his grip on your hip tightens slightly, his fingers trembling as his forehead drops to your shoulder.
"are you— are you sure?" he asks, his voice is tight, strained with the effort it's taking him to hold on just a moment longer.
"i'm sure," you whisper, your breath catching as his hips press flush against yours. "it's okay. i want you to."
it must be his breaking point. with one last deep thrust, jisung lets go completely, his body collapsing against yours as he spills inside you. the sounds he makes are low and muffled against your shoulder, his breathing uneven and shallow as his fingers curl into your waist like he's clinging to you for dear life.
you can feel the heat of him inside you, and the realization sends another wave of warmth through your body, leaving you breathless.
for a moment, neither of you move. he’s still holding you, still pressing kisses to your shoulder, and your hand reaches up to run your hand through his messy hair. jisung hasn’t moved much, still pressed close against you as both of you work to catch your breath. his hand rests gently on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin.
“you good?” he asks softly, tilting his head to glance at you. his cheeks are still flushed, a faint pink lingering on the tips of his ears, and his hair is a mess, but his expression is serious.
“yeah,” you reply, your voice a little hoarse. you manage a small smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “are you good?”
he huffs out a laugh, his lips curling into a grin. “i mean… i think so? unless i, like, accidentally broke you or something.”
you snort, swatting his shoulder lightly. “you didn’t break me, dumbass.”
“just making sure,” he says, grinning a little wider now.
he sits up then, careful not to disturb you too much as he grabs a spare hoodie from his chair and offers it to you without a word. you tug it on, your cheeks heating at how impossibly jisung it smells. he pulls on his own clothes clumsily, his movements shaky, but he recovers quickly, turning back to you as he rubs a hand through his hair.
“do you, uh, need anything?” he asks, looking slightly nervous as his gaze flickers around the room, like he’s wondering if he’s supposed to have some plan.
“water might be nice?” you suggest, smiling faintly.
“got it,” he says quickly, almost tripping over his own feet as he heads to the kitchen. you bite your lip, fighting back a giggle at how adorably confused he still looks.
when he returns with a water bottle in hand, you sit up and take it from him, mumbling a quiet “thanks” as you sip. he flops down beside you again, a sigh leaving his lips as he rests his head against the headboard.
the silence is nice, comforting even, but it doesn’t last long before jisung shifts, glancing at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes.
“so,” he starts, drawing out the word in that dramatic way he always does when he’s trying to annoy you. “you think jaehyun could’ve done it better?”
you nearly choke on your water, whacking him in the chest as he laughs. “shut up!”
“i’m just saying!” he protests, holding up his hands in surrender. “if this was, like, a whole competition, i think i deserve at least a nine out of ten. maybe a ten, if you’re feeling generous.”
“oh my god.” you roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too now, clutching at your sides as his dramatic pout melts into his usual grin. “you’re so full of yourself.”
“i’m practical,” jisung corrects, poking your cheek lightly.
“and annoying,” you shoot back, though the love in your voice is impossible to hide.
you both get lost in giggles again, the ease of your friendship slipping back into place.
it isn’t until the laughter fades that the unspoken feelings creep back in, settling between you. jisung clears his throat softly, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“so, uh… are we still…” he hesitates, his voice faltering slightly. “you know. best friends? after, uh… this?” your heart tightens at the vulnerability in his voice, and you reach over, squeezing his hand.
“yeah,” you say, smiling at him even as your cheeks heat up again. “we’re still best friends.”
jisung visibly relaxes at your words, his lips quirking into a relieved smile.
“okay,” he says softly, then after a second, “but, uh… does this mean we’re, like, best friends who, y’know…” he gestures vaguely, his ears turning bright red. “do this stuff now?”
you blink at him, then burst out laughing, the sound spilling out before you can stop it. jisung groans, hiding his face in the pillow again.
“stop laughing! i’m being serious!”
“you’re not real,” you manage between breaths, leaning over to press a light, teasing kiss to his temple. “but yeah… i think we’ll figure it out.”
jisung laughs again, the sound is so warm, so yours.
“i love you, y/n,” he says softly, his voice quiet.
your breath catches, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, your heart feeling like it’s about to burst.
“i love you too, you’re everything to me.” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his lips.
in this moment, nothing else matters but him, jisung, your best friend, or should i say your boyfriend, and how stupid you were for not realising how in love you were with him.
and the way he looks at you now? you know your feelings are reciprocated.
#park jisung#jisung nct#park jisung smut#nct jisung#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#jisung x reader#park jisung x reader#nct dream x reader#park jisung fanfic#nct fanfic#nct dream fanfic#park jisung fluff#jisung fluff#nct fluff#nct dream fluff
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oh, the eldritch horror! — scar
summary. venturing out in the woods to clear your head was supposed to be relaxing, so why is this twisted abominable nightmare of a beast growling in your face?
notes. i rewatched shrek because i was bored and i snatched the donkey & dragon scene right out of it. but like, instead of a dragon, it’s literally baphomet. does this count as monsterfucking bc idkkk… anyway yeah it’s like scar but his goat form. i thought it would be funny. this is just painfully self indulgent.
idk wtf is going on in wuwa but my brain shut down when this loser came on screen and started ranting about shepherds and sheep. whatever you say beautiful.
warnings. scar, very minimal crack (it’s inspired by shrek. idk what to say bro…)
This has to be the worst day of your life.
The creature snaps its drooling jaw in your face.
It looks like a goat from Hell. Like a black sheep that’s wandered from its herd. You can’t see much of its face, but the ginormous pair of curled horns are sharp at the edges. The cartilage could easily slit your throat in half if you were to make one wrong move and lean in too close.
Four yellow beady eyes glare at you, way too close to your face. You can see your warped reflection along rectangular pupils. Giant ears peeled back towards its skull, pierced with two matching golden earrings in the shape of crosses that are the size of your hands.
You laugh nervously in its face.
Oh, god, it’s going to eat you alive. You know it.
You try to take a step back, but you’re met with the roots of a tree at your feet and the trunk digging harshly into your back.
Bad idea. Oh, this was all a bad idea. The bad luck streak should’ve been an indicator right from this morning: you slept through your alarm and were subsequently late for work, you fell over twice at work, you lost your house keys, and then you decided to clear your head and go for a walk.
You ended up venturing off deeper into the trees to search for herbs to help back at the clinic in Jinzhou. You don’t even know which direction the city is anymore.
And now, there’s a creature—and it can’t be a Tacet Discord—growling and snapping its teeth in your face. It’s huge. It’s way too big to be absorbed, let alone actually taken down with brute force. Whacking it with a stick certainly didn’t help.
All that did was manage to slash a decent gash into one of its hind legs and anger it even further.
It snarls at you.
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple.
Uh oh.
“Oh, what large teeth you have!” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re trembling as you stare up at it.
A low guttural noise escapes from the depths of its throat, and its jaw unhinges.
Your eyes pinch shut. “I-I mean, white, sparkling, teeth!” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, your words almost incoherent. “I know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but, you must take really good care of those pearly whites, ‘cause that is one dazzling smile you’ve got there!”
The creature’s slitted eyes narrow in suspicion. Its jaw snaps closed as it pulls only a few inches away from your burning skin.
You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your hands.
You clear your throat. “I’m so grateful that your beautiful smile will be the last thing I ever see. Y’know… when you eat me… ‘cause I’m sure you must be hungry!” You prattle on and on, and your knees are weak and wobbly. “Not that you have to eat me. I’d prefer if you didn’t, but– yeah! So grateful!”
You were praying to whatever Gods could hear you that your mindless babbling saved your life. Or some superhero came through and took this thing down in one swing.
The giant creature seems to preen at your words. Its sharp teeth retreat behind a now closed mouth. Its horn suddenly don’t appear as sharp as they were before, and the curl of them against the creature’s skull look softer and more defined. They were different to the ghastly sharp edges you saw before.
Your legs can’t keep still. Your hands interlock in front of you to try and quell the shaking. Your bones feel like they’re vibrating beneath your skin.
You try to control your breathing. “Beautiful hair–fur, by the way.” You raise a finger to point at the greyish locks behind its horns. For such a mangy beast, its hair looked a bit silky. Maybe unwashed, and it was full of twigs, but slightly soft. “And I smell a hint of berry…” Lie. “…Did you… wash it?”
Stupid question.
You try to control your breathing.
Maybe the beast isn’t a beast. Maybe it’s a nice creature cursed with being ugly.
The creature is still eyeing you.
Can it understand you? Or is it trying to survey whether you’re a threat or not? You can’t tell. You heard somewhere that dogs don't like when people look them in the eyes. You didn’t even know if that was true.
The correlation is stupid, regardless. This beast is far from even remotely resembling the canis genus.
Its head is huge, even when its jaw is shut. Its nostrils are the size of your hand, and it breathes puffs of hot air in your face. You reel back further into the tree. Your stomach drops impossibly lower than it already has. Your skin is soaked in sweat.
The creature bumps its nose against your sternum and inhales sharply.
You glance to the left.
Is it… smelling you? Is it trying to figure out if you’re edible? Oh, Gods, then you’re embarrassing stalling would have been for nothing. What a day. As if it couldn’t get any worse than it already had been.
You can't outrun it. It’s huge. By the time you’ve sprinted ten feet away it can simply lean over and pluck you by the back of your collar and pop you into its mouth.
Your insides churn at the thought. You were afraid you’d hunch over and vomit out of fear on the creature’s face.
Bad plan? Maybe then it wouldn’t eat you, at least. Or maybe it would. You were afraid to take the chances, and swallow the bile rising up your throat.
Its oddly bent arms smash into the dirt on either side of you. A low garble echoes in its throat and bubbles with saliva.
It sounds like a croak of sorts.
The lamb creature bumps its sharp snout into your stomach. Those beady eyes blink—you notice it has vertical eyelids. Gross. It’s like a giant lizard, almost.
Its teeth are gone for the moment, though, so it offers you a moment of reprieve. Or maybe it’s trying to calm you down so your blood tastes sweeter, or something. Sweat continues to roll down your neck, and you swallow the giant lump in your throat.
The red sashes of the torn clothes on its back pull with its form, ripping at the seams even more.
Your eyes flit nervously to the wound on its leg. It’s a small smear of crimson against grey fur, barely noticeable, and you’re sure the creature can’t even feel the sudden pain from it anymore. It seems to be walking fine, and it does not exhibit any discomfort when it shifts its weight to each hoof.
You wince when you spot the gnarly gash you left on it.
The lump in your throat doesn’t dislodge.
You try to ignore it.
The creature’s long neck pulls into view again. It’s watching you silently.
You figure if it wanted to eat you, it would have done so already. Hopefully you seemed inedible to it. Maybe it was an omnivore or something—but those sharp teeth were definitely not just for chewing on leaves and berries in the wild.
Morphed fingers dig deeper into the dirt beside your feet.
You stare into its eyes.
Its still eyeing you.
Huh.
It’s… curious. It blinks slowly, one eye at a time, as you slowly, and so slowly, slower than you’ve ever moved in your life, raise your hands.
Then, you navigate around its giant leg beside you and step towards the gash on its hind leg. Your foot tramples onto a twig and it snaps loudly. The creature watches you with lidded eyes, but there’s a flash of teeth in warning. You gulp.
You kneel before its wounded leg and pull your satchel from around your waist.
The creature does nothing. Its teeth disappear behind its mouth again.
“Sorry,” you whisper with a wince. You hope it can understand you’re not a threat. Maybe it’s scared of you. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A giant predator, some eldritch abomination in the middle of the woods, scared of a little flesh bag. “Um… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared, y’see?”
You had meant to hurt it, but you’d spit little white lies if they saved your life.
The creature blinks creepily again. That uneven slow blink, like a frog.
You’re more disturbed than anything. You’re amazed that ginormous tongue locked behind its teeth hasn’t come forth to lick its sclera wet yet. Then you’d be more convinced.
You try not to let it show. “But, um…” You dig around in your satchel before you pull out a small glass vial. “I have something that might help.” The vial is made of a crystal glass with a cork in the rim. The liquid inside is a deep blue, like the blueberries growing on the nearby bushes, or like thick ink.
The creature lowers its great head down towards the bottle.
It stares at your hands expectantly before trying to sniff around the glass.
Hesitantly, you remove the cork and hold the rim closer to one of its nostrils. It most certainly doesn't smell good; it’s made up of a mixture of herbs and alcohol, but you know for a fact it does a damn good job at shielding wounds from infection. It was fool-proof medicine; you made it. And you don’t settle for less than perfection.
The creature seems displeased with the scent for it seems to flinch away from the rim. It does not swat the medicine, but it turns its head away.
It looks grumpy.
“It might help the bleeding.” It will help the bleeding. You know it will. It will heal the entire wound. But, you didn’t come here to gloat, so you keep your lips zipped shut. “It’ll sting, though.”
The creature makes a noise. It does not sound like a warning, nor an acceptance of your words. It’s simply an acknowledgement, like a toneless hum, but you also don’t speak eldritch lamb, so you could be far from the truth. For all you knew, it was hyping itself up to open its mouth around your head or take off into the trees.
Alas, it does neither of those things.
It sits back on its hind legs despite its wound and then falls into the grass.
Its eyes shut and it stills.
You blink in wonder.
Did it… die?
Nope. It’s still breathing. Its nostrils flare with every breath. There’s a giant pitiful feeling of disappointment, but at the same time, a smaller pang of relief in your stomach.
Your hand reaches out to touch the tender and raw skin around its wound.
The creature remains still. Maybe it’s sleeping. It did chase you around the forest for a good long while.
You hum. It’s like a giant dog, you think. Like a scary, huge, dog.
You take loose cloth from your satchel and dab the medicine generously into the cotton until it soaks it thoroughly. You don’t have anything to properly clean the wound with, but it will have to do. You do have a wrap of bandages, though, and it’s better than nothing.
Gingerly, you press the soaked cloth to the tip of the wound.
The creature blinks its eyes open and snarls.
You try again in the spot next to it, gently pulling any flecks of dirt you see from the gash.
It hisses then, low and horrible, and you flinch away. It watches you cautiously, hind leg pulled towards itself protectively.
“I just need to clean it,” you say desperately. You know there’s a pleaful gleam in your eyes.
The beast tilts its great head towards you before it snorts and rests down on the grass again.
When you press the cloth back to its wound, it makes a noise, but it does flinch.
So, you work gently. Slowly, like you’re treading through thick murky waters. It feels that way. The creature puffs annoyed noises through its nose, but you dutifully ignore it, watching the shimmer of the medicine in the evening sunlight to make sure it was spread evenly over the gash.
When you’re satisfied, you take its giant hoof in your lap and wrap the bandages around its leg. The size of its calf takes up almost all of the roll, but you make it work, tucking the ends into the wrap. The creature does not deter away from the treatment.
You hope it isn’t too tight.
It’ll give the beast another good reason to close its jaw around your head.
The creature blinks its gross eyes open again, those rectangular pupils drawing thinner. It’s surveying the bandaging like it’s foreign; it probably is, given the creature has probably never received treatment in its life. You notice the ghastly scars drawn over its face.
Still, you’re frightened. The noises that pour from its throat are guttural and flagrant. It’s still huge, even as it lays in the grass. When it raises its head, it’s still taller than you.
You feel a drop of sweat slip down your spine.
It probably hasn’t eaten you because you smell unappetising. You’re thankful, internally.
You stay knelt in the grass, dirt staining your pants as you watch the creature warily.
Then, it coos. It’s snout bumps into your stomach and it coos. You flinch away from the noise, hands raised near your head defensively. Why is it cooing? Does it like you? That’s better than hating you, at least. The creature huffs and puffs against your stomach, and washes of hot air waver over your sweaty face.
You shakily rest a palm on the top of its snout, mindful of the deep scars.
The creature only stares blankly.
Huh. “You’re not so bad.” You swallow nervously. “You’re sort of like a giant puppy.”
The creature lets off a low garble. It sounds innocent, like a passing noise of pleasantries. Like it’s enjoying your attention.
Your hand smooths over the strange fur. It’s coarse between your fingers, withered with age and scars, but it still somehow retains a slight softness. It’s nice. It smells suspiciously like livestock, but that’s better than smelling of blood and sinew.
The creature drowns in the feeling of your hand against its head. The gold earrings are cold against your skin.
Then, it reels back.
You almost jump when its mouth moves towards your face before a long and slimy tongue drags up your cheek. You almost gag as saliva drips from your skin, but you try not to let it show. You shiver instead, mostly out of disgust.
The creature seems pleased though.
You’re glad to be of service. And to still be alive.
Nice puppy.
You try to ignore the slime stuck to your skin as you thumb over the creature’s horns. They’re enormous, much larger than the width of your arm, but the cartilage is so delicate, and you notice chips in the black curls.
It bumps its nose into your sternum and makes a noise.
When you say nothing, it makes the same noise, but it’s drawn out and higher, more irritated. Petrified, you stumble back slightly. You have a clear shot of running now. There’s no trees trapping you with this thing. You could try and make a beeline towards where you think Jinzhou is.
The creature stares expectantly. There’s a slow kiss of a blink, and hot puffs of air fan over your face and send jitters down your spine.
“I don’t– um…” You try to settle your trembling. “I’m not understanding–”
The great creature lets out a frustrated huff, and lowers its head towards you. You think not to place your sweaty palm on its snout for pets again. It doesn’t seem to warrant them at that moment, either.
It’s getting dark now, and you’re growing nervous again. Does it grow violent in the night? Is it warning you? Oh, God, maybe it’s going to pounce.
A cloying scent fills your nose. Your eyes refocus from the tears that melt along your bottom lashes.
You watch, mortified, as the creature warps.
Those giant hooves shrink in size, followed by an engorging shadow of smoke and red dust like sand. It burns your eyes and floods your lungs wrong, and you cough, fanning your face desperately. It stinks. It smells like metals and burnt soil. This mustn’t be good for your health, inhaling all this stuff.
The creature horns curl smaller until they disappear. You can’t see much of it, but what you can see is almost disturbing. It looks painful. The silhouette of the great beast continues to shrink, and those beautiful tresses of white and grey hair curl along what can be assumed to be a more normal looking face.
Its silhouette vaguely resembles a human, but there’s much too little to see you’re not quite sure. Black ripples down those long arms and pulls away the fur covering them.
There’s the snapping and straightening of bones. You almost puke at the sound. You force yourself to look away. Sweat pools in your throat like an oasis.
When you find the courage to glance back, the shadows then peel away from the inky red fog and dust.
You gulp.
It’s a man.
It’s the beast, and you know it is because the scars on the creature’s head match the lines and pulls of his skin. He’s devoid of fur now, and his hair is dramatically shorter, small curls imitating those giant black horns twisting around the now fleshy lobes of his ears and his neck.
His clothes are the same. Ruined and tattered, but still that red coat. His shirt is caked in dirt and his pants are torn where the gash is. It’s still covered by the rolls of bandages.
He is on his hands and knees in the grass. He looks exhausted, like he’s trying to recover from the most painful transformation you’ve ever witnessed in your life.
“Um…” It’s the only thing that can seem to form coherently from your mouth.
A grin cracks onto the man’s face. “Hi.”
You nod slowly in a greeting.
Your spine snaps rod straight in fright.
The man stands to his feet slowly. His bones crack and continue snapping as he moves, and he lets off an annoyed sigh before he stretches and pulls knots from his joints.
Then, he suddenly looks alive. “That’s better. God, have you ever been trapped in your own body?” You briskly shake your head, to which he scoffs playfully and continues, “‘course you haven’t! Silly me.”
“Are you–” You feel stupid for asking, but there’s something forcing you to say it. “Are you a Tacet Discord?”
The man’s face morphs to answer your question. “Do I look like a Tacet Discord?”
Well. He did. About five minutes ago. It takes effort not to respond with irked quips, eyes flitting towards your satchel that’s still resting by his feet where you had left it.
He notices you staring at it and kneels down to pick it up. The thin strap you swing around your body is pulled over one of his fingers like the bag is a foreign object entirely.
You figure he might try and rummage inside. He won’t find much if he plans to rob you.
Instead, his eyes narrow playfully at you. “You are so interesting.” He grips the strap of your bag tight and takes one calculative step forward. “Usually, humans bore me. They’re all cut from the same meat platter, after all.
“But, you…” A pleased, airy little giggle escapes his throat. “Oh, I like you.”
Oh, this is very bad.
That smile on his face says it all.
Very, very bad.
You sucked up way too much to the beast.
You’re in for it now.
You laugh awkwardly in return. You’re not flattered in the slightest.
You hoped the world ended at that very moment. That would fix the problem.
You clear your throat quickly. “I appreciate you not eating me, sir. Really, I do! But I need to get going now. It’s getting dark, y’see, and… and it’s not safe for me to be walking around in the dark…” You’re stalling again. It worked the first time. You hope it works here again.
That doesn’t appear to be the case.
The man watches you closely.
“C-could I have my bag back?” You curse yourself for letting the waver in your voice slip. It sounds hopeless.
As expected, he only snorts. “Nope.” He swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”
You really need your stuff.
Your feet remain planted into the floor.
He’s scary. His smile isn’t normal. The scars pulling around his eyes make it so much worse, too.
His head tilts curiously to the side. He’s walking right towards you now. His eyes rapidly move from your face down to your legs, surveying every inch of you he could.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear.
“What’s your name, little lamb?”
Your heart spikes in your chest. He’ll follow you right back to the city, you know it. You can see it in his eyes, and his expression—where’s that stick to swat him off? Your eyes frantically search the ground as you move for some sort of branch to stave him off.
Your hands raise in front of you to keep him away, but of course your little frail body isn’t going to deter him in the slightest.
If anything, he only coos again.
You tell him your name reluctantly when your foot stumbles over a stray root. You don’t topple over. You can’t imagine what would happen to you if you had to start crawling away from him.
He repeats it once.
Then, his grin softens. “I like it.” It looks relatively normal now, like he’s not about to dig his teeth into your flesh. They’ve straightened up from how sharp they were prior, but you’re sure those canines could do enough damage. “I like you. You’re so nice. So small. So silly.”
You swallow hard.
He says nothing else.
Your brows knit together in worry. “What’s your name?”
His eyes flit down to himself as if he’s wracking his brain to remember. Then, he says, “Scar.”
Underwhelming. It’s like calling a kitten ‘Cat.’ You don’t voice your disappointment. At least his name is simple, and easy to remember.
Your eyes swarm to his bandaged leg.
He’s not even limping. The gash seems like nothing but a fleeting thought.
The man, Scar, hums thoughtfully, a nail pointed onto his cheek. “It’s not everyday you find a little white lamb away from its flock. It would be unwise to give you up to the other creatures in the forest.”
You swallow whatever courage you have left in your bones. “I don’t need protection, but thank you.”
He can keep your satchel. You are out of here.
You turn away from him this time and continue walking forward.
“Oh, but didn’t you just say it’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark?” His words taper off into a chuckle. His smile twists into something grotesque again. His arms are pulled open into some sort of mocking await of an embrace. “Come, little one. I promise I am gentle.”
You don’t believe him.
You’re sweating again. Hot ash clings into your lungs. You stifle the urge to choke on your spit in fear.
Your head turns back to watch him, suddenly alarmed. Gooseflesh raises on your arms.
Stupid.
Your foot catches onto a thick protruding root in the dirt again, but this time you do stumble to the floor. Your head smashes against the ground but you can’t pay it too much mind. You’re panicked, and ice rushes through your veins like blood.
You push yourself up instantly, but he’s quicker, and a foot stamps down onto your calf. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it’s firm enough to keep you there.
His knees hit the dirt on either side of your legs and you’re cornered. You try to sit up to the best of your ability, but he tuts as if he’s reprimanding a child. “Now, now. You’ve hit your head. You could be seriously hurt, y’know?”
“‘M fine!” You push on his chest when he leans down far too close to inspect you. “Get off!”
There’s no physical damage except for a small welt. You feel dizzy, but that’s to be expected.
There’s something alight in his eyes.
Excitement.
This is a game to him.
Scar lets you sit up, though he’s still very much straddling your lap.
That same wobbly grin pulls onto his lips.
Oh, gross. You should never have treated his wounds. Now he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. You’ve caused some great beast to grow delusional because you wanted to be nice.
You’re never stopping to help lonely animals in the forest ever again.
You swear you see hearts bubble and pop from his head when he blinks at you. He hums a small giggle before his arms wrap around your neck and draw his chest into yours.
He squeezes you tight and you buzz with the excitement that radiates off his skin in heat waves. More and more hearts float from his head, and you’re sure his pupils are a shape to match.
“I want to keep you.”
He squishes his cheek against yours.
“Uh…” What the hell else do you say? Especially to this thing that’s swamped over you like a giant teddy bear. You can’t even breathe.
“So small. Are humans usually this tiny? And you’re so warm–”
You claw at his arms. His grip loosens over your neck.
He doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Instead, he looks intrigued and experimentally squeezes around your throat again. “Oh. I always forget just how fragile humans are.”
You sigh in defeat.
Oh, boy.
This is going to be a long night.
#wuthering waves x reader#wuwa x reader#wuwa scar#wuthering waves scar#wuwa scar x reader#scar x reader#✦ ( the macrocosmos. )
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Hi so sorry I was t clear in my earlier request! Emt!marauders and reader in an established relationship who’s anxious about either being poorly or being injured - perhaps she breaks a bone and it’s the first time she’s done so? So not only is she hurting but she’s nervous?
No worries lovely, thank you for your request!!
cw: broken bone, nothing graphic, I'm not very happy with this but I can't figure out how to fix it so here you go sorry <3
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
It’s one of those mind-numbing, paperwork-filled days that makes James feel unproductive and twitchy and makes him forget the fact that no one calling them about severe injuries or death is, in an objective sense, a good thing. He’s moved outside to the ambulance to try and get some sun while he works, and his boyfriends have followed. Sirius is tapping his pen aimlessly on a half-filled out form while Remus is diligently working through his pile, when they’re all gratefully distracted by Remus’ phone ringing.
“Hello?”
James catches the way his boyfriend’s expression tenses upon answering, and Sirius looks up when his voice turns gentle and soothing. Ironically, Remus’ calmest tone is an alarm bell for them both.
“No, don’t worry about it, lovely. What’s going on?”
“Put her on speaker,” Sirius whisper-shouts.
Remus waves him off with a hand, brows sewing together as he cradles the phone close to his cheek. “Okay.” He starts moving with hurried steps towards the front of the ambulance. James’ stomach hollows out, and he and Sirius hop down and start closing the rear doors. “Okay, where are you now?”
James steals his chance to ride up front with Remus, forcing Sirius to ride in the back. The other boy shoots him a sharp, half-hearted glare before shutting himself in.
“Alright,” says Remus, still in that measured tone. “Just take a breath, sweetheart. We’re coming to get you. I’m passing the phone to James so I can drive, okay?” James holds his hand out eagerly. Sirius has all but jammed his face into the window connecting the driver’s compartment to the back. She’s crying, Remus mouths to them both. “Okay. Love you.”
Remus doesn’t so much release the phone as James snatches it away. “Hi, angel,” he says, squeezing his boyfriend’s fingers in belated apology. “You alright?”
There’s a shaky breath on the other end of the line, like you’re trying to do as Remus said and steady yourself. James finds that his heart trembles with it. “I’m okay,” you reply tightly. “I, um, I fell off my bike, and I think I’ve really hurt my wrist.”
Panic laces your words, and James feels like his own blood is moving quicker just at the sound of it. He leans close to the window so Sirius can hear, doing his best to make his own voice easy and cheering. “Aw, that’s shit. But no worries, yeah? We’ll be there soon to help with that. You’re not still in the road, are you?”
“No, I’m in the grass.” Another big inhale. “I moved my bike out of the way, too.”
He finds himself nodding encouragingly as if you’ll sense it through the phone. “Good idea.”
“I’m worried it might be broken.”
“Your bike or your wrist?”
“My wrist.” Your voice wobbles. A low pitying sound comes from the back of Sirius’ throat.
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” James reassures you. “If it is, we’ll deal with it. We see that sort of thing all the time, you know? Just sit tight, we’ll worry about it when we get there.”
He keeps you on the phone up until they can see you down the street. Sirius hops out of the back while they’re still rolling, causing Remus to sigh and mutter something about accident-happy partners.
“My poor darling,” Sirius croons, keeping one eye on the arm you’re holding in your lap as he kisses a path down your nose to your lips. “I knew this fucking bike was out to get you.”
“It’s my fault, I took the turn too fast,” you say. Your eyes move past him as James and Remus start toward you, guilt making its way into your expression. “Sorry for calling you all at work. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Remus tsks. “I already told you it’s fine. And this is exactly the sort of thing you should call our work for.”
James nods his agreement vehemently. He crouches in front of you, holding out his hands. “Can I have a look?”
Tentatively, almost warily, you give him your arm.
“You scraped up your leg pretty badly,” Sirius notes, brushing some gravel away from your knee. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“Not really, just my hands and my—ah!” You hiss in through your teeth, tears springing to your eyes as James palpates your wrist. He stops.
“Sorry, angel.” He leans down to kiss your knuckles lightly. “Yeah, I think your distal radius is fractured.”
Though he’s careful not to move your wrist or touch it any more, you look even closer to tears.
“What does that mean?” you ask tremulously.
“Only that there’s some kind of fracture in the big bone here,” Remus explains, running his finger gently over your forearm. “It’s a good sign that there’s nothing poking out. It could be small yet, but we won’t know until we get an x-ray.”
You nod, looking largely uncomforted. “And so what do we do?”
“You don’t do anything, gorgeous.” Sirius pecks you on the cheek. “You only need to sit pretty while we get you all cleaned up and in a splint, and then we’ll take you to the hospital to get that x-ray. Sound doable?”
You hesitate for a handful of seconds. “Yeah,” you say, but your voice is tightening and your face pinching with nerves. James rubs his thumb over the unhurt part of your forearm. You let out a stilted little laugh, blinking hard. “Sorry, I’ve just never broken anything before.”
“It’s alright,” Remus soothes. “It makes sense to be nervous, but we know how to handle this. You’ll be fine.”
You nod with more conviction this time. “Okay,” you exhale.
“That’s it, love. Take a couple more breaths like that.”
You do. When you’re finished, your expression is more even. “Is it going to hurt?”
“A little bit, probably,” James says honestly. “But not nearly as bad as when it happened and not for long.”
You chew your lip, and Sirius smears a kiss across your temple. “We’re gonna take good care of you, sweetheart.”
“I know,” you say in a small voice. “Could someone maybe hold my hand?”
All three of them melt, but Remus volunteers before either of the other two can. “Yeah,” he says, scooting closer to you and picking up your good hand. “I can do that, lovely. Squeeze if you need to, alright?”
Sirius brought the splint down from the ambulance with him, so he and James ready that while you lean your head on Remus’ shoulder and he draws slow patterns into the back of your hand. You’re suddenly calmer than you have been since they got you on the phone. They get the gravel out of your palm before splinting your wrist, and you don’t seem to mind the process so much with one of your boyfriends pressing his lips to your hair and the other two praising you amply after every adjustment.
In fact, by the time they’ve cleaned all your cuts and Sirius is bandaging your thigh, James thinks you might have found a silver lining to your injuries.
#emt!marauders#emt!marauders x reader#marauders au#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ POCKET SLIME !
FROM: kaveh, alhaitham / gn! slime! reader
SUBJECT: you used to be a docile, little thing. a blob of extraordinary cuteness that just follows them around wherever they go. but how in the world did the pet slime they took in turn to be some sort of cum-hungry demon?
( this shit reads like a doujinshi, so don’t even bother using braincells; feels like im committing some sort of crime against the cute widdle slimes of genshin; unhygienic slime usage; reader has a diçk AND a pússy, reader also has a humanoid form don't worry; best of both worlds; urethra play (kaveh); dubcon; nipple play (alhaitham), throat fucking (haitham); they’re ALL on their receiving end; ahégao; )
✧.* KAVEH
KAVEH who takes you in while you were plopping sadly around in the rain, sad little rumbles and bleps from your jelly body. he’s not so heartless that he’d kill some poor slime who doesn’t even have any interest in attacking him, only nudging its pudgy body against his shoes and looking pleadingly at him.
he likes to watch you eat the treats he brings home. it’s a stress reliever to see you munch on some sumeru roses he brought home, and he pats your blob figure fondly while you squeal in delight at his treats. you’re not a very picky eater, he finds out, but you’re more delighted whenever he feeds you something with elemental energy. once he learns of this, he brings home more and more elemental energy stuff, just to be on the receiving end of your cute lil snuggies.
KAVEH who lets you sit on his head whenever he’s working on his projects. while he sketches and measures, your cool jiggly body feels so comforting on his hair. sometimes he even falls asleep with you on him, and you slowly make your way to his cheek so you can protect him from the hard wood of his desk.
he genuinely brought you in because he thought you were cute, nothing more than that. he’s gotten fonder of you ever since the days pass by, and you thought of him the same. however…
KAVEH who wakes up to something warm and gooey sucking on him down there. as he squirms under the blankets, tiny little moans and whines escape his pretty little lips. the pink blush on his cheeks seems to brighten when he slowly opens his bleary eyes and sees his adorable slime sucking on the tip of his pretty cock. imagine the shock of seeing the pet he was so fond of doing nasty things to him!
“nnh–! [y-your name]! what are you– ahh ♡!” he tries his best to cover up and pull you away, but with no such luck. in fact, you suck even harder, the wet noises of his cum and your squishy body echoing throughout the room. you suck even harder, and the pleasure makes kaveh’s body jilt and shake every rhythm and pulse.
“angh… t- too much…!” he sobs and pushes you away, but his hands only sink into the slime. it’s only around this time he suddenly realizes the slow expansion of your blob body, slowly morphing into something familiar… something humanoid… something… cuter.
your wobbly smile looks so innocent even as you tongue the veins across his dick, and it sends blood to his head until he feels like he’ll pass out from a nosebleed. you gurgle something that sounds faintly like ‘master’ and ‘kaveh’... and gods does that make his dick hard.
“a s-slime turning into a human?” he gasps, sitting himself. “i must be going– ngH! c-crazyYY ♡ stop! s-stop!” using the dexterity and fluidity of a slime, your tongue compresses into something thinner. you ooze your way in into his urethra, the slimy thing bumping against the edges and leaves his toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets.
“ughk, mmh~!” he throws his head back, dick humping into your slimy mouth. “m-more ♡ k-keep going~! agh, ah, ah~!” your delighted gurgle sounds faint in his ringing ears, but he still manages to smile fondly. “g- good slime ♡ s-sucking on your master’s dick so h-ha-hARD! fuck!” he hisses when your tongue presses against his prostate. he pats your hair with one shaky hand and you nuzzle into it. “so ♡ cute ♡ you got even cuter ♡”
“‘m gonna blow! [your name]! ggh [your name]!” he whines and desperately grasps on the hair-like jelly. “s-slow down~♡! gh, nwah!” he wants to attribute your lack of understanding to your inability of comprehending human languages, but he swears he sees the shadow of a devilish smirk on your cute face before you griiiind your tongue right against his prostate.
as his climax hits him, KAVEH’s eyes roll and his back arches into the air as he shoots his seed into your mouth. the tears blur his vision, but he can see his white seed spurt into the jelly. satisfied with your meal, you finally pull out your tongue– getting some pretty screams from your master at the added simulation– and his body falls limp. you smile and giggle at him, kissing away the tears from his eyes, and slumping your cool body against him.
“th– thanks, [your name],” he smiles at you, kissing you briefly before sleep takes him away again. “do that for me again, ‘kay?”
✧.* AL-HAITHAM
HAITHAM who is skeptical of the slime his fool of a roommate brought home. he raised an eyebrow when kaveh came home wet with a pudgy slime in his hands. “you know that can dissolve you, right?” he points out, ever the smartass.
kaveh snaps back. “of course i know, idiot. but look at them! don’t you feel bad for them?” he raises you high and you give a warbly greeting, but alhaitham is far from impressed. his dramatic roommate rolls his eyes at him and kaveh carefully tucks you away. “let’s go, [your name]! this callous idiot isn’t worth your time!”
HAITHAM who didn’t pay you much attention, only ever seeing you while you drape off kaveh’s head when he enters for breakfast. you were well-behaved for a slime, anyway, so he shouldn’t concern himself much with you. but his interest is piqued when one day he hears devilish noises from kaveh’s room, sounds of slurping and sucking while kaveh whines pathetically muffled behind the door. clearly, it’s not kaveh doing the sucking and slurping, but…
HAITHAM who sees you again the next day at breakfast, draping off kaveh’s head as usual. he greets kaveh with his usual coolness, but kaveh, for lack of a proper word, looks completely fucked out. his legs shake as he pulls his chair, and when their hands touch while reaching for the food, he pulls back with a lip-bitten yelp. all the while, you garble incomprehensibly on him.
yeah, no. his roommate is definitely fucking his pet slime. haitham’s not chatty, but he’s got a million words for how fucked up the entire situation is. once kaveh is out of the house, he corners poor little you and stares down into your vacant little slime eyes. he won’t admit that he actually cares for his… once friend, so getting rid of the thing that has tempted him into immoral acts will be the best next thing.
“mm- mmgh?!” haitham doesn’t know how he ended up like this, gagged and bound by your slimy tendrils. while he tries to break free, he stares in astonishment as the blob slowly expands. the torso starts first, before extending into limbs, until the head takes shape and a very, very pretty smile is smiling innocently into haitham’s face.
“☆♡♡?” your gurgles continue to be incomprehensible, despite the humanoid form. slowly, your cool hand caresses his face, holding his chin while your tendrils lift him ever so slightly up the ground. you kiss him, like how a lover would, the slightest bit of tongue swiping over his lips, but then you pull away— and he catches the devilish smirk before you lean in again and start fucking his mouth.
he thrashes in your slimy hold, slipping away only for the slime to thicken and tighten their hold on him. he glares at you with look of indignation as he tries his best to keep his mouth shut, only for you to slip your tongue between his lips and curl around his tongue. he shakes as you bring him closer to you so you can properly fuck him in his throat. you curiously watch as he gags and splutters on the length of the tendril, his glare never ceasing even though he looks like a proper slut with that dark red blush on him.
replacing your pseudo tongue for another tendril, you pull away from his face and eye his thin shirt. your curious hands roam over the expanse of his chest, and you delight in the softness of his pecs. feeling a bit too eager to get your hands under his shirt, you dissolve the cloth away and quickly reach up to rub his two pretty nipples. you roll them around in your fingers, giving each one a tight squeeze before going back to massaging them.
HAITHAM, behind the slime gagging him, yelps when you lean in and bite one. you run a tongue over his wide areolas, studying his expressions to make sure you’re pleasing your master’s best friend properly. his glare is more subdued, the wriggling has lessened, and there’s an… anticipation in his eyes as he stares down at you. you’re more than delighted at the progress. this means he likes you, right? you always felt a little sad when haitham would glare at you, but now you can feel getting closer to him! best friends, even, just like him and your master!
and like every best friend does, you should make him feel happy too! lowering one gloopy hand down to his pants, you waste no time melting away his pants and underwear and morphing your hand into something akin to a suction cup. little tentacles line the inside of the cup, and a muffled groan from haitham convinces you to finally ungag him. he gasps for breath, staring at you with wide eyes and a fucked out look. “what… what are you waiting for?” haitham grits his teeth, trying to hide the desperation he’s feeling when you’re so, so close to finally giving him the relief he wants. “put that on me. now.” a pause when you don’t do anything, and the last left of his dignity leave him as he gives you a pleading look and buck his hips up. “please.”
you know from experience that that one syllable is the go ahead, and with enthusiasm and vigor, you put the cup on him and start sucking. “mmm! ngh, ah, too much! ah!” you think his moans are pretty. huskier and deeper than your master’s soft and light whines, and that only makes you sucke even harder. the stimulation forces him to bend his back as he dangles in mid-air, forcing his fat cock deeper into your suction-hand. the dizziness of the upside down world makes the blood rush to his head, and he feels his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you tickle the throbbing vein running the downside of his cock.
“ah, sh-shit, you’re taking me all in ♡” sweat makes his skin glisten, highlighting even more his soft pecs and his abs. tendrils reach out from your back as they glide themselves around his waist and guide him back up. he’s positively shivering as you continue pounding his cock in and out of your hand, and his tongue is shivering when you pull him in for another kiss.
somewhere in the back of his mind, haitham swears he’ll make a research paper on you– on how intoxicating and aphrodisiacal you can be.
✧.* IT’S A THREESOME!
KAVEH bounces himself on your dick, your squishy body serving as his cushion as he lets his limp body get absolutely wrecked by a thick and veiny cock you fashioned from your ever-morphing body. his pretty dick slaps HAITHAM’s muscled torso as the younger one slaps his heavy balls against the pussy just underneath your balls.
your slime encases the both of them flicking haitham’s nubs up and down and fucking kaveh’s urethra open, just the way they like it. it should be humiliating, the two roommates who could barely stand each other now open and so vulnerable to each other. but kaveh’s face is contorted in a lewd expression, eyes crossed and tongue hanging out of his mouth as he gets his ass destroyed, and haitham can’t find the energy to even insult him.
well, maybe a little bit. “you– ngh! – you really brought a beast into my home, huh?” he pants out, grabbing kaveh’s waist for stability as he thrusts his dick into you like a beast in rut. “you really couldn’t resist the chance to get yourself fucked silly, huh, my dear senior?”
kaveh whines when he feels haitham going even faster on you, and he tries to cover his face with his arm. “sh– shut up, okay?! i– a-ah ♡ i didn’t knooow! i thought they were a c-cute l-little thing ♡ but now they’re–” a sob escapes him as you abuse his prostate. “they’re just bullying me e-everydayyy ♡”
haitham locks eyes with you, innocent and vacant, not a single thought behind them. but it’s hard to see you as anything but innocent when you’re offering up both your cock and pussy to your two masters.
“you’re one crafty thing,” haitham bites out. but all you offer to him is a happy little noise when you think that you’ve made your two masters happy and fulfilled. just like how that man taught you to.
#ੈ✩‧₊˚ next stop! tighnari & cyno#genshin impact#genshin smut#alhaitham smut#kaveh smut#genshin x reader#genshin alhaitham#genshin kaveh#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham#kaveh#nite.writes
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the girl next door 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.
Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.
You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.
“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.
She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.
You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.
Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”
You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.
You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.
You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.
You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.
As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.
You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.
You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.
“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”
“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”
“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”
You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.
You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.
Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.
The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.
🏠
Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.
She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.
You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.
“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.
You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.
You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.
“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.
“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”
“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.
You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.
“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”
You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.
The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.
His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.
Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.
She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.
You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.
“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.
#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#series#the girl next door#au#silverfox au#mcu#marvel#captain america
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THE RRAMSHACKLE GHOSTS COUNTING SS YUU AND GRIMS FAMILY FOR FAMILY DAY IS SO CUTE AGH
If its allowed can i request yuu and grim learning the ghosts are counted as their guardians,,, maybe feeling abit left out cuz everyone has someone and Crowley appears with for ONCE genuine kinda fun news with ghosts in tow....
[Referencing this interaction!]
dhjsbskwkwidk I’m not actually taking new NRC Family Day requests, I’m just finishing up the ones I had in my inbox so I can finally compile a masterlist 😭 But!! I happen to like the idea of the Ramshackle Ghosts as being part of Yuu’s family so I’ll make an exception this time.
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
You sat on upon a stone sill and looked out at the courtyard. It was swarming with people, far more than you’d see on campus on a regular school day. Students and staff were present, but now there were also parents, guardians, siblings, and extended relatives.
Young children wobbling on unsteady feet, some carried by an older family member—some so young they needed to be strapped to a chest or back, or pushed in a stroller. Elder brothers and sisters gawking at the buildings but never straying too far from their flock. Adults chattering or smoothing out hair, adjusting clothes.
Guardians for their sons, their cousins, their brothers, their nephews, their grandsons.
The mages of tomorrow.
Everyone looks so happy.
So many people around, and yet you had never felt more alone in your entire life.
Everyone has someone… but not us.
The space beside you suddenly felt very, very empty. Like someone should be there, filling it—but wasn’t. Your family was in another world entirely.
Your chest constricted. It was hard to breathe, and it seemed that the room was pounding rather than your heart.
Taking in a shaky gulp of air, you swallowed your sadness and ran a hand through Grim’s grey fur. He had taken a bath in the morning (“The great Grim-sama’s gotta look extra snazzy for Family Day!”), so he was extra fluffy. The softness set your nerves at easy, if only temporarily.
“… Minion? You okay?” Grim asked, gently nudging a paw against your cheek. Concern swam in his big blue eyes.
“I’m fine,” you replied, your tone a little deflated. You’d been telling yourself that for the past several hours. A mantra to maintain composure—but you weren’t sure how effective it was.
“You’re not lettin’ dumb thoughts like ‘I’m lonely’ get to you, are ya? Cuz you’re all good with the great Grim-sama here—so c’mon, lemme see my minion smile!”
“Silly kitty. You’re right, you’re my family.” You lifted him off of your shoulders and snuggled Grim against you, rubbing your nose against his.
“My, am I interrupting something, Prefect?” a jolly voice called out from behind you.
You almost dropped Grim from shock. He flailed his furry limbs, and you caught him, setting him down in your lap.“W-Whoa, headmaster?! Where’d you appear from?!”
“A man has his ways!” he chuckled—vague as always. His feathery cloak shifted like shadows as he approached, his cane tap-tap-tapping with each step. “Now then, I have come with some exciting news for you and Grim-kun.”
You eyed him warily. “It’s not another errand or chore, is it…?”
"On Family Day? Certainly not! How unkind do you think me to be?!" Crowley huffed. "No, I assure you that this surprise is one that you will enjoy."
He snapped, and at his signal, three familiar ghostly forms appeared before you. A, B, and C encircled you, arms linked with one another, in a happy ring of cackles. You tried to follow them around and around, but it only resulted in a dizziness in your head.
"Myah?! It's the Ramshackle Ghosts!!"
"What are you guys doing here?"
"The headmaster," the ghosts chorused, "it's all the headmaster's doing."
"They are the surprise," Crowley explained. "Rejoice--for, by the power of my grace and magnanimity, I have made the executive decision to allow them to be present as Prefect and Grim-kun's family!"
"But why?" Your question was quiet, stifled by disbelief. "Why would you..."
"Why?" Crowley said the word as though it belonged to a foreign language. "I have been an educational authority for far longer than you realize--and in all my years of teaching, I know that no child likes to be left behind. Students must keep their morale up if they wish to do well in..."
He didn't finish his sentence.
You sat Grim on the floor and flew at the headmaster--fazing through the ghosts. Wrapping your arms around Crowley, you locked him in an embrace. He was stiff at first, but quickly adapted, relaxing and returning the hug.
"... Thanks, headmaster," you muttered, tears prickling in your eyes. "You really can be... so very kind sometimes."
"You express your gratitude in such strong ways," he mused, a clawed hand on the back of your head, stroking absentmindedly. The gesture was oddly comforting, in spite of the several (several) recollections you had of his less-than-fatherly behavior.
"Aww, ain't that sweet," Ghost A gushed.
"I guess the headmaster counts as part of Prefect's family too."
"Maybe he can be the weird uncle," C suggested.
"Eeeeeh, but I don't wanna be related to Crowley," Grim protested, stomping a hind paw. "Our extended family SUCKS!"
#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#disney twst#Yuu#Grim#Dire Crowley#Ramshackle Ghosts#Reader#self insert#NRC Family Day#twst interactions#twisted wonderland interactions#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland scenarios
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Ice Falling (Ingrid Engen x Reader)
Day 7 woooooo. I really loved writing for Ingrid I want to do more with her
You weren’t quite sure how Ingrid had convinced you to go ice skating, especially considering your well-documented lack of skill on skates. But the holiday atmosphere in the city, with lights twinkling on every tree and garlands hung on every lamp post, had you feeling festive. When Ingrid suggested an afternoon at the outdoor rink, her face alight with excitement, it was impossible to resist.
The rink itself was magical. Tiny string lights dangled from above, and festive music filled the air as families, couples, and friends circled the ice, their laughter and cheers echoing around you. As you stepped onto the ice, the reality of what you’d agreed to became clear. You’d never felt this unsteady, and immediately reached out to grip the side of the rink, sliding ungracefully in an attempt to steady yourself.
Meanwhile, Ingrid glided over with effortless ease, skating backward and giving you an amused, sympathetic grin. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and the sparkle in her eyes hinted at how much she was enjoying watching your struggles, something you did have to admit was rare.
“Here, take my hands,” she said, stretching her gloved hands toward you. You took them gratefully, her hands firm and steady in yours. She was watching your every move with that familiar, playful smile, ready to catch you if you slipped but also tease you when it happened.
“Alright, step one: don’t think about it too much. Just keep your knees bent and glide with me.” She spoke gently, encouragingly, but there was also a spark of amusement in her eyes as she took a small step backward, pulling you along.
You couldn’t help but laugh at your own shaky steps as you tried to mimic her graceful movements. “Easy for you to say! You’re practically flying out here.”
She laughed, a bright, infectious sound. “I guess this is one benefit of growing up around snowy fields,” she teased, glancing down at your feet as you inched forward. “But you’re doing great, really.” You had been to Ingrids hometown for Christmas last year and got to truly witness what a white Christmas is. Norway was covered in a thick layer of the white powder for pretty much the whole of the winter, whereas England where you grew up barely saw and inch a year. It was no wonder you couldn’t skate to save your life, and Ingrid was the epitome of beauty gliding across it. Although you would always say she was the epitome of beauty doing whatever she does so.
Slowly, with her steady grip and gently encouragement, you found a bit of a rhythm. The two of you moved together, although every now and then you would wobble, nearly taking her down with you. Each time, she’d laugh and pull you back upright, her hold on you never wavering. The taller woman always had a way that made you feel safe.
At one point, she took one of your hands and led you out a bit further into the open ice, away from the wall. “Look at you! See? We’re actually moving now,” she said, her grin wide as she skated alongside you, no longer having to be in front of you dragging you along.
You couldn’t help but laugh, both exhilarated and a little terrified, feeling your feet slide with every step. “Please don’t let go of me,” you said, half-joking, though you held onto her hand as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. And maybe it was. No maybe about it.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, her gaze softening as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. Now that you were starting to get a hang of the balancing and moving part, she started pointing out small tricks to help even more: how to bend your knees just right, how to lean forward for balance. Every time you got a little better, she’d cheer, her delight as genuine as if you’d just won a match. An expression you knew from her very well.
In moments between her instructions, she’d make you laugh which ultimately put you off balance and then shed tease you lightly when you wobbled. She couldn’t resist playfully pulling you along at times, giving you just enough of a thrill to get your heart racing with that I’m about to fall adrenaline. You’d squeal, clinging to her hand, and she’d only laugh harder, loving every second. Which in turn made the slight seconds of scared worth it, you’d do pretty much anything to hear that sound coming from the woman.
Eventually, after a few laps, you found yourself actually gliding a bit smoother. You let out a triumphant laugh, and Ingrid cheered along with you, proud of your small victory. And it was a small victory because you still hadn’t let go of the Norwegians hand. As you glided around the rink with the woman you loved you couldn’t help getting lost in the moment, the Christmas music playing from the speakers around the rink, the flashing lights strung perfectly around the bars on the side of the rink, and the cold breeze whipping your cheeks just right for the setting. It all made you feel like you were floating.
After a little while longer, Ingrid guided you back over to the entrance to the rink, she held your hand firmly as you took the step off the ice. Only when both your feet were on solid ground did you release the brunette’s hand with a sigh of relief. “Thank god for that. I think my blood pressure is through the roof.” Ingrid couldn’t help the laughter that burst out at your comment.
“I think you deserve a hot chocolate after your ordeal my love.” She said, smiling as she caught her breath. She took your hand back in hers after you both returned your skates, and you noticed the ease at which she pulled you along with her. That ease that comes with love and trust in a person to just go with them no matter what, a feeling that was very new to you but you wouldn’t change for the world.
Once you both had your drinks, she led you over to a bench overlooking the rink. You huddled close, her arm around your shoulders as you sipped from your cups, watching the other skaters’ whiz by. Ingrid was warm beside you, and every now and then she’d nudge you playfully as a skater on the ice wobbled or stumbled, as if to say hey, look they are doing what you did.
You sat in that comfortable silence for a while before Ingrid spoke. “You really did great out there,” she said, her voice soft. She looked at you with a smile that was equal parts pride and fondness.
“Only because I had you to hold onto,” you replied, leaning into her. She chuckled, resting her head against yours.
“Well, I have to admit,” she said, gazing out at the rink with a thoughtful expression, “I like being able to hold onto you, too. Maybe we should make this a new holiday tradition?”
You turned to her, catching the warmth in her eyes, the soft way she looked at you with a mix of admiration and contentment. “Oh, honey you haven’t got a chance of this happening again.” Ingrids face split into the biggest grin as the giggles escaped her. It might not be a new tradition for you both, but it is a memory you won’t forget anytime soon.
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Hi! First I would like to start by saying that I LOVE your writing and my request is one for Matt where basically they are all on tour and the reader gets like dizzy and passes out on stage and the they all like carry the reader off of the stage and then on like the socials people are like praising Matt for how calm he was being and like a fluffy ending pls and if you don't have time or just don't wanna do this that's fine also love your work again!
Dizzy
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Matt x fem!reader
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - nothing
You smile as the bright stage lights shine down, the crowd still going wild for the triplets. This being the last show, Matt asked you to be his partner which you happily accepted.
You’ve never been on tour before but it’s exceeded your expectations, although very stressful.
Matt tosses the basketball to you, snapping you out of your little trance. Standing up from your chair, you wobble a bit, your vision going fuzzy.
“You alright there love?”
“Mhm” you blink a few times before walking up to shoot. After missing the shot miserably once again, you return to your previous seat, feeling like absolute shit.
Suddenly, the lights felts extremely bright, the voices seemed painfully loud, and you didn’t think you had enough energy to shoot again.
You push yourself off of the chair with shaky hands, ready to make your way over to Matt. It’s not like this is the first time this has happened, you’ve felt like this on and off all day today and yesterday.
“I’m gonna go get water quick” you whisper to Matt after he finishes shooting.
“Do you want some of mine?” He offers, pointing at his nearly full water bottle sitting on the ground.
You just shake your head, making your way across the stage. Your vision has gone fuzzy again and your legs feel like jello as you grab for something, anything to hold you up. So close to making it off the stage; out of the sight of so many people but you couldn’t. And everything goes black.
A gasp echos around the room as the crowd watches you collapse, each of them angling their phones in your direction.
Matt is quick to sprint over to you, swiftly scooping you into his arms before carrying you bridal style off of the stage.
He lays you down on the couch in the triplets “break” room, his face twisted with concern. Luckily, it didn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open, immediately mortified of what just happened.
“I’m so so sorry Matt I tried to make it off stage, I really did” you apologize, covering your reddened face with your hands.
Matt takes a hold of your wrists, pulling them down.
“You don’t need to apologize honey, are you ok?”
Sighing, you squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to pull yourself together. “I think I just need to eat something” you eventually say.
“But I really really don’t want to go back out there” you add, afraid to disappoint him but too weak and embarrassed to go back onto stage.
“That’s ok my love, I’ll pull a fan from the crowd to be my partner” Matt smiles gently, placing sweet kisses on your knuckles.
“Matt” you say as he gets up to go back on stage.
“Hm?”
“I’m lowkey kinda excited for the edits. You’re my hero”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kinda different than what you asked but I hope you like it ! :)
XOXO - Zoe
Taglist ⬇️
@dwntwn-strnlo @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @mattestrella @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli
#fypage#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#imagine#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matthew sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#dizzy#pass out#the versus tour#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#x reader#yn#x yn#fem reader#fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp#fypツ#fyppage
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A BIRTHDAY GIFT FROM OSAMU DAZAI
➪ sypnosis : waiting for dazai’s attention is like playing a game of cat and mouse.
➪ other notes : it’s a day late but it’s okay because i went on a shopping spree yesterday, ALSO, i have another chapter of convergence finished and ready to post but i’m waiting until i can finish writing the next chapter of between the floors so i can post them at the same time, non edited :3
tick. tick. tick. you look up at your wall clock as every second clicks on it. it was 11:48 pm, and on any other day, you wouldn’t have cared. but today was your birthday, a very special day for you. your phone is in your hand as you wait for a single call from someone, osamu dazai. surely he remembered, right ? maybe he was on a mission and just hasn’t had the time to call you.
you and dazai weren’t in a relationship…well not exactly. some could call it a situationship, others could call it friends with benefits. but you disagreed, dazai was just a complicated man. and you were always the one who was there when he had his moments of sadness. he would call you late at night and you would go over to his apartment, comforting him as you held his tall form in your arms.
you try to soothe yourself as your eyes flick towards the array of presents your friends had given you, but none of them matter when you’re waiting for dazai to call you, or at least send you a quick text. ten minutes go by, it’s 11:58 pm and your position on your couch hasn’t changed as you slightly tear up, he really wasn’t going to call ? you let out a shaky sigh. buzz. buzz. buzz. your eyes immediately widen.
you frantically pick up the phone, it was dazai, you quickly answer his call. “hello ?!” you say into the phone, a smile forming on your face as your lips wobble with happiness, all the doubt going away. there’s a few moments of silence that go by before dazai speaks up, “wanna come over ?” your smile falters, he hadn’t talked to you all day, and that’s the first thing he says to you, on your birthday…?
“w-what ?” you quietly say as you held your phone tighter. “feeling a bit lonely, you know,” dazai sighs into the phone. you scoff, he wanted your comfort right now ? “where have you been all day ?” you ask. “i was hungover so i took the day off,” he says, you can tell there’s a smile on his face as he says that. so you were wrong, he was sitting on his ass all day as you stupidly waited for a ‘happy birthday’.
you look at your walk clock, it was 11:59 pm, he really didn’t care, did he ? “dazai, do you know what day it is ?” you ask him, your eyes tearing up again, dazai call tell theres something off about you. “i’m sorry, pretty, but i don’t know what you mean, it’s tuesday,” dazai chuckles, making you let out a whimper, catching dazai off guard, but he doesn’t bring it up as a few moments of soft ticking go by.
tick. tick. tick. 12:00 am. “happy fucking birthday to me,” you whisper into the phone. oh, so that was what he forgot. dazai tries to recover by saying “you thought i forgot ?” he chuckles. “i have your present for you right now,” he lies through his teeth. “just cut the shit dazai…why is it that i’m always here for you and you’re never here for me,” you say, voice breaking as you tears fall down your face.
“i know you’re upset, but i’m not your boyfriend, don’t treat me like one,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “then don’t contact me again, i’m not your girlfriend,” you seethe as you hang up. dazai looked at his phone before tossing it to the side as he sighs. you quickly block dazai’s number before crying yourself to sleep on your couch, realizing that dazai wouldn’t be apart of your life anymore.
#written by terra#sincerely terra#engraved with bitterness#bsd#bsd manga#bsd x reader#bsd manga spoilers#bungou stray dogs#dazai x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai bungou stray dogs#dazai imagines#dazai bsd#dazai#dazai osamu x reader#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai angst#dazai x y/n#dazai x you#osamu dazai angst#dazai osamu
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Your headcanons about little Logan are excellent! (That guy has so much trauma and needs all the cuddles.) If you were to write a oneshot of Wade discovering that Logan was little, that would be awesome! Hope you’re having a good day. Bonus mental image for you because you like Nightcrawler (who is such a sweetie): please imagine Nightcrawler wearing diapers for the first time (since discovering that he regresses sometimes) and being all shy about the way they crinkle. He might prefer cloth diapers for that reason! He’d also probably need a hole for his tail :)
Giggles, this is so exciting. Hopefully should be posting this as a little thank you for 400 followers :3 anywho, hope you all enjoy this!!
Nighttime Washing
Cw: Accidents :( mentions of bed wetting </3 Also this isn’t proof read bc I’ve got media work to do 💔
The warm blankets were wrapped around Logan as his eyes fluttered open, he felt cozy. For the first time in a long time he felt good. The blankets provided a sense of security he hadn’t felt since god knows when. He felt small, his hands reaching for the singular stuffed bear he kept in close proximity. While he shuffled around on the nest-like bed he had curled himself up in the blankets moved and shuffled around with him. Wet. He felt wet.
Logan’s hand froze, hovering over his Care Bear plushie and breathing came to a steady halt for a brief moment. Don’t cry. Do not cry. That’s all he could think, his brain was small and fuzzy. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, all he knew is he was wet and he’d not find that in awhile.
After a moment of contemplating his next move, Logan lifted himself from the sheets and tried his best to avoid the wet patch on his pyjama shorts and bedsheets. He turned on the light, cringing at the sudden brightness of the room and screwing his eyes shut for a brief moment. Once adjusted, the corners of the sheets were lifted and pyjamas changed, he’d balled them up and gave his Birthday Bear a quick squeeze and kiss before placing him on the bedside table.
Small wobbly steps lead Logan to the kitchen, he was still getting used to the layout of the place, the dim lighting from the sun rise allowed him to find the beat up washing machine. He scrambled to find the washing powder, hands shaking and tears burning his waterline. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at each small movement, he tried to keep his breathing small and quiet. Each movement as carefully calculated as it could be for someone in his mindset.
The door to the machine opened and his shaky hands began to pile in the blankets and sheets. He had gotten away with it, holding the little measuring cup of fabric softener, deep breath Logan. Deep breath. It was all okay, he’d just wash the sheets and put them back on his bed and bang he could sleep till 2pm again and ignore the fuzzy feeling in his brain. That was until the light flickered on, the shock causing him the drop the cup of liquid. Logan fell, hiding behind the counter. He hadn’t even seen who had woken up. He had been so careful!
“Heya Peanut,” came a familiar and friendly voice, Logan’s shoulders fell. He relaxed slightly, still not peeking over from the counter. “Whatcha doin’ up? It’s like 6am.” Wade asked, slowly sauntering round the counter in his hello kitty pyjamas. What he was met with was the sight of a very distressed little honey badger cuddled up against the cupboards behind him, the washing machine door half closed with his sheets hanging out of it. “Couldn’t wait till you woke up huh?” He asked teasingly before hearing Logan’s small snarl, “Alright. Alright I’ll stop the teasing.” Wade hums, his hands up by his sides.
“Fuck off.” Logan hissed, looking between Wade and the washing machine. His heart was pounding in his chest, why wouldn’t Wade leave? Why was he still talking? Logan couldn’t make sense of it, his eyes drawn to wade’s pink pyjama pants and the white cat face on them. His pupil’s widened as he stared at the Hello Kitty icon. “Something caught your attention kitty?” Wade laughed, looking between him and his pyjamas. Logan’s voice came out small and choked, almost like he didn’t want to be speaking. “Kitty.” he mumble, shakily pointing at the cat.
“God you’re weird,” Wade snorts, ruffling the other man’s hair and turning his attention back to the washing machine. He crouched down and ran his hands over his face, mumbling to himself. “Alright, what’re we dealing with here peanut?” He mumble, pulling out the blankets upon blankets. A panic came over Logan as he pulled out the wet shorts and sheet. Wade’s attention was caught, turning to face his friend. He cleared his throat, “you got something…you wanna share with the class Wolvie?” He asked, attention clearly divided between the two.
No words came out Logan’s mouth. Just a soft blubber, then a small cry. He tried his damn best to wipe away the tears immediately as they fell. “Oh, oh hey, oh hey c’mere.” Wade says softly, immediately dropping any previous hint of malice or teasing in his tone. His arms opened for him as he dropped the wet items. Despite his usual behaviour Logan was immediately in Wade’s arms. He kept a strong grip on the other man as he blubbered and wailed into his friends shoulder. “Didn’ mean to” he whimpered, eyes darting towards the sheets on the floor.
Wade’s hands found Logan’s hair, gently petting it as he soothed the sobbing man. “Oh honey badger. You’re alright,” he whispered. “I’m not gonna tell anyone about your little issue” Wade promises, pulling Logan’s face out from his shoulder to face him. All Logan could do was nod, sobbing still. “Bear,” Logan whispered, pawing at Wade’s chest. “Bear. Bear.” He repeats, wiping his eyes and looking around. Wade’s confusion only increased. Bear? What bear? Logan shot up, clambering through the apartment.
Shrugging it off, Wade began to load the laundry again. Sheets, shorts and blankets were put into the machine. The spill of fabric softened cleaned and a new cup placed into its space in the machine. Wade fiddled with the button’s momentarily before the fabric began to spin around. Success! Once Wade had brought himself up to standing again he spotted Logan staring blankly at him from the living room. An oversized shirt on and boxer shorts, his hair messy and a stuffed Birthday Bear in his arms. Bear.
“You found your bear?” Wade muses, wandering towards Logan. His friend nodded, looking down at the bear then at Wade again. He moved it forward a little so Wade could see him. “‘S Birthday Bear.” Logan mutters, listening to the spinning of the machine as he plonked himself down onto the couch. “You wanna tell me what’s gotten into you tonight peanut?” Wade asked, watching Logan poke the plastic eyes and nose on the bear. “Little.” Logan admitted begrudgingly. “Little huh?” Wade asked, sitting by him. “You look pretty big to me.” he laughs slightly. A soft scowl from his little friend shut Wade right up. “Not like that. Dumbass. Brain’s all…fuzzy” Logan mutters, leaning back onto the couch behind him and looking over at Wade. His eyes drawn to the hello kitty pattern again. “I gotcha little guy,” Wade reassures him, gently stroking the stuffed bear, “but I don’t recall little ones using such foul language.”
The two sat, Logan flipping the tv on to watch some Garfield as the sheets span, Logan spitting off some fun facts about wolverines, Care Bears and kitties until he went silent. His head on Wade’s shoulder and knees to his chest while he softly purred, even though he’d deny it in the morning, “How am I gonna get him back to bed..”
#age regression#sfw agere#agere#agere community#agere blog#fandom agere#!!! <3#age regressor#agere sfw#xmen agere#xmen age regression#little wolverine#age regressor Logan#regressor logan howlett#caregiver Wade Wilson#deadpool and wolverine agere#deadpool agere#deadpool and wolverine#xmen#regressor wolverine#padded regressor#agere dips#fandom agere dips#deadpool#Deadpool 3#poolverine
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Dad!Remus being roped into tea parties! Tiara, over exaggerated posh accents, tutus, and all 🤭 he takes it very seriously as well, when Uncle Sirius and James visit and think it’s partial joking, Remus is like “oh this is very serious and you will be forced into it. No, she doesn’t care that the tiara will get tangled in your hair”
wc: 1.2k of straight family fluff and Remus having sassy little daughters
“Daddy tea?” Bekah’s holding a little play kettle and standing in wobbling on shaky toes as she leans over the table.
“Yes please, little love.” He holds his cup out and watches imaginary tea pour right in and hides a smile when Bekah sneaks a sip.
Charlie is sitting patiently in her seat, “Can I have a scone? With jam?” There actually are scones, lest your babies starve- you swear they could eat through a house in a day if you let them.
Wednesday afternoons’ are Remus’ tea date with his girls while you get an hour or so to yourself, today you’ve gone to the hairdressers.
“What ‘bout Uncle Siri?” Bekah asks, setting down the kettle with a thump. She’s always worried about him, if he’s well, if he’s still on his bike (which scares her) and when he’s coming to see her. Specifically her.
“There’s quite enough, baby. Mum and I made extras for Uncle Jamie and Siri.” With that in mind she sets one on her plate and another on Charlie’s.
The doorbell rings as Bekah and Charlie giggle about the jam on their lips and Remus stands to open it. “Your uncles’ are here.”
Bekah breaks into a full sprint the second she hears Sirius and giggles like a madwoman when he scoops her up and blows on her belly.
“Hi Trouble,” he kisses her cheek and stoops to ruffle Charlie’s hair. “Hi dolly.”
She passes him up for James- he never sets her on her own two feet and gives in to the perfected puppy eyes she gives him.
Plus James is already up for a cuddle with her.
“We have the tea ready,” Charlie says to James letting him rub her back.
“Lead the way, shortcake.”
Sirius and James hadn’t believed Remus when he’d said that tea parties are a big deal in your house, so they weren’t expecting to see a little stand and a table fully laid and set with tea kettles, cups and a towering plate of scones and cucumber sandwiches.
Remus smiles in an ‘I-told-you-so’ kinds of way as Bekah and Charlie give specific instructions.
“It’s Bekah’s turn to be the tea server, but she’s little so no wrastling.”
“Hassling, Charlie girl.” Remus corrects softly and she nods.
“Hassling. Be nice to her or no scones.”
Like a little sister hanging on to her big sister’s every word, Bekah repeats, “Nice or no scones.” Only she doesn’t sound nearly as harsh and consonants like ‘n’ and ‘s’ are so stressed they sound long and cuter than they should.
Just as Bekah reaches for the kettle she stops, turns to Remus with a look of pure shock and says, “‘Iaras daddy!”
Sirius and James are confused and Remus clarifies, “The tiaras, it’s a whole affair.” He reminds them.
“Trouble do I have to wear one? I just did my hair-“
Sirius remembers why he calls Bekah ‘Trouble’ when she marches up to him wagging a tiny finger in his face. She hardly looks intimidating- more adorable than anything in her little dress.
“Body wears ‘iara Uncle Siri.”
That settles it then.
James takes one with purple gems, Charlotte the pink ones, Remus takes the blue, Sirius the clear and Bekah keeps her coveted red gemmed tiara.
James learns quickly how to hold a tea cup correctly, ‘pinkies up uncle Jamie’ whispered to him by Charlie and Sirius learns that Bekah is not to be messed with as she pours tea- numerous times she pours an ‘overflowing’ cup and covers her mouth as she giggles and Sirius grumbles about wet hands.
The tea party lasts longer than an hour, scones and real tea served when Remus takes the girls one by one to shower. Bekah comes down just as you get home, all tired smiles as she reaches for you.
“Hair,” she coos, chubby fingers twirling the ends of your curls. “Pretty mummy.”
Remus descends the steps with an energetic Charlie on his hip. “Very pretty mummy, you look stunning dove.”
“You did it lighter mummy! Looks like caramel.” Charlie gives you a quick kiss before wiggling out of Remus’ grasp and making for her colouring pages and pencils.
You blush and fluster under his compliments and more so when you note Sirius and James on the sofa looking a little exhausted.
“You boys enjoyed the tea party?” James nods with an earnest smile and Sirius flips into his lap.
“I think I’ve lost about three handfuls of hair from that little rugrat adjusting the tiara, but it was heaps and heaps of fun.”
Bekah flushes, hiding her face in your neck when you look at her.
“You look positively out of it.” You say kindly to them, hand fighting Bekah’s as she tugs at your neckline. “Let mummy change, Bekah baby.” She doesn’t let you go as you climb the stairs and Remus flashes you a little grin- she gets extra lovey when she’s tired and skipping her mid-afternoon nap in favour of tea parties and staying up to entertain uncle Sirius has made her even more so- which you don’t mind.
When you come back down, in a little house dress Remus had got you for your last birthday, Bekah is already feeding and half asleep.
Remus has a cup of tea and a couple scones and jam in front of you and Sirius is halfway to sleep himself.
“Mummy?” Charlie looks up from her pages.
“Charlie?” She giggles the way you do when Remus calls you all sweet.
“Next time can I come and do my hair caramel too? Or is it sticky?”
James chuckles when you all do, making Charlie blush.
“It isn’t sticky, but if you want next time you can come and we can see what the stylists will do.” You’re sure by that time she won’t be wanting caramel hair like yours and something else, something a little more punk and a little more Charlie- like purple.
Bekah’s snoring in ten minutes and you smile as she keeps a hold of your finger in her chubby hand.
“You boys staying for tea?” Remus asks them as he sits on the armrest of the sofa beside you, an arm around your chest as he pulls you into him.
“‘Ve had enough tea for a week mate, but it was lovely.” James says as he stands, taking Sirius with him. “Thanks for inviting us, shortcake.” Charlie rushes to give James the page she’s colouring before he leaves.
“S’of the garden by your house, uncle Jamie.” James coos, kneeling to kiss her cheek. “Thank you darling girl, it’ll go on the fridge yeah?” She nods a smile so big that you worry her cheeks ache.
“Bye uncle Sirius, maybe next time you can be the tea server so you don’t get wet hands.” He nods, kissing her forehead.
“You’re so kind, dolly. I’ll take that offer up any day, just don’t tell Touble, eh?” She mimes a sealed lip and Sirius winks.
They leave and you slump further into your husband. His hand coasting along your collarbones. “She had Sirius spinning in circles. Fixed his tiara every time he moved.”
You laugh, “She’s a little stern, our girl.”
Remus hums, “Still quieter than Charlie though.” You look at your first baby. She’s grown up so much, her sass mostly saved for days where she needs extra dramatics just because, but she’s still just the same as she was when she was younger. Still bold and still whip smart. Suddenly your heart aches as you remember her as little as baby.
“Come give mummy a cwtch, Lottie. Missed you today.” She’s up fast, needling into your free side and you sigh.
“Missed you too mummy. You smell nice.” You lean even more into Remus, his arms around all three of you, his chin on your crown. You can’t imagine a nicer life than this.
#remuslupin#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fic#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin#remus lupin x black!reader#remus lupin x black reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x yn#remus lupin x y/n#dad!remus lupin#dad!remus
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Hi Emmy! I hope you are doing great. I love your writing and it genuinely makes me smile through tough times. I am currently studying for the mcat and it is taking a toll on me mentally and really testing my academic abilities to the point where it is overwhelming and I can't push myself to study (ahh sorry for the rant 😭). Anyway, if it is okay, could you write a comfort fic with akaashi keiji and him comforting you (reader) through something like this? Obviously you are not obligated to do so, so do not feel any pressure!! Thank you for turning my gloomy days a little brighter with your brilliant work!
YOURE ACTUALLY THE SWEETEST EVER AND IM GLAD MY PIECES ARE ABLE TO GIVE YOU A SENSE OF COMFORT WHILE YOURE WORKING SO HARD 🥺❤️
---
Your eyes water as your palm comes up to rub at them for the nth time that hour, reminding you that you've been plopped in this chair for who knows how long.
Too long.
You would sit and ponder just how long you've been here, just staring, but when you let your mind go there, your eyes sting and your bottom lip wobbles, and you don't have the energy to cry, nor the time to, if the bright light of your phone that flashes with a notification every few minutes is anything to go by.
You offer a shaky sigh, then go back to your laptop, fingers fatigued and heavy from the hours you’ve spent typing your life away. Nothing can prepare you, however, for the gentle feeling of fingers slipping over your shoulder and gently massaging, fingertips rolling into the tense knots just under the surface of the skin. You hum in relief and flutter your eyes shut as you lean your head back, gently resting against Keiji’s stomach. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey,” you mewl, stretching softly. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he chuckles. His thumbs squash into your shoulder blades and you wince softly at the pressure. “Hows studying going?”
“Terrible,” you whimper, and god, the wobble in your lip returns, and your eyes screw shut to try and block out the sting of tears biting at your waterline. “I… don’t want to study anymore, Keiji…”
“So don’t, my love,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “Just work your way out of focus mode and come be with me.”
“I can’t,” you sniffle. Then, your breathing escalates, “Keiji I can’t fail this, there’s no option there, I need to finish this, I need to pass-“
“Hey, hey,” he says, moving his hands up to gently cover your eyes with his hands, touch light and warm and the sudden weight across your exhausted vision welcome. “You’re going to do well, my love. You’re doing very well.”
“I don’t care,” you whimper. “I need to not fail.”
“You’re not going to fail,” he whispers, gently kissing your head again. “You’re just so tired, your brain is about to have a meltdown. You need to take a break.”
“I don’t have time for a break-“
“Make time,” he says, stern but loving. “Come on. Just some water. Let’s go drink some water, and then if you want to come back here and rot, I’ll let you.”
You sniffle. You try to think your exhausted brain back to the last time you even looked at a glass of water, let alone did anything, and you offer him a shaky sigh and slowly push out your chair. He steps aside to give you some room, and as you make a move to stand up, your knees buckle slightly.
“Woah,” he says, chuckling softly. “Get your legs back. Then we’ll go, yeah?” You nod and take a deep breath, trying to force your knees to stop being jelly and stand up straight. You feel ridiculous, unable to even stand properly, and frustration brews inside of you again as you struggle step by step.
“Let me go, Keiji.”
“Not until you can stand.”
“I can stand fine!”
“No, you can’t,” he says calmly. “And that’s okay. I’ll always be here to help you up.”
With that, a dam breaks. You let out a shaky sob and wail into the air, letting out hours of agony and despair from lack of confidence and determination, beating yourself up for not fully grasping a topic and cursing yourself for the field you picked. It’s not fair, this isn’t fair, and-
“Hey,” he says softly, snapping you out of your spiral. “What’s 2+2?”
“What?”
“What’s 2+2?”
“Uh…. 4?”
“Okay- what’s 3x3?”
“9?”
“Okay. So what’s 6x4?”
“Keiji, what’re you doing?”
“Helping your brain rewire itself,” he says firmly. “You’re so deep in your head that you can’t think of anything other than your spiral, so im guiding you out of it. What’s 6x4?”
“Uhm… 24.”
You hate to admit it, but it’s working. The basic math helps your brain focus on answering him, rather than the screams and howls in your brain. You sniffle and rest against him, legs slowly coming to life as you straighten up, little whispers of math questions helping you get your footing and mind back to a semi-stable state. You sigh shakily and answer each math problem calmly, and with time, you finally look up at him and sigh, “I don’t want to study anymore.”
“Let’s call it a night, okay?” He offers. “I’ll stop working too. We’ll have something to eat, drink some water, and take it one step at a time, okay?”
“Together?”
“Together.”
#im sorry this is so short I didn’t want to keep you waiting too long 🥺#I hope you’re feeling better and being gentle with yourself okay??#akaashi keiji#akaashi keiji fluff#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi keiji x reader fluff#akaashi keiji x gn!reader#akaashi keiji imagine#akaashi keiji haikyuu#akaashi#akaashi fluff#akaashi x reader#akaashi x reader fluff#akaashi x gn!reader#akaashi imagine#akaashi haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader
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After reading Harry and Julian’s relationship I can’t even image how Harry would be on his first day of school. I would love to see how Harry would react to each of his babies first days of school
Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader
"Chin up, love, you're gonna make your old man cry."
Julian's little bottom lip wobbled as he tried to take a deep breath through his sniffly nose. His eyes were lined with a fresh wave of tears, his chubby cheeks ruddy from the ones he shed on the car ride to school. With a shaky voice, the cutest and most heartbreaking it had ever been, Harry thought, Jules said, "I'm s—sorry, Daddy."
"It's okay, JuJu," Harry promised, ignoring the bite of the cold tile floor on his knee as he knelt in front of his son. "Today is going to be so much fun, and it'll go so fast."
"But why can't you stay?" Julian asked, his big eyes pleading.
Those were the eyes that typically had his son getting his way without fail. Harry could never resist that particular look, especially when Julian's lips were pouted just so. My sweet boy, Harry thought. All grown up.
"Because this is school, bubbie. This is where kids go to learn."
"But you and Mommy help me learn," Julian reasoned.
"You've got an answer for everything," Harry murmured. "School is a place for learning and making friends JuJu. And to take art class and read stories and play on the playground. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
Harry and Y/n had similar conversations with their son since they told him and Maeve they were going to school. For preschool, Y/n had taken on educating the twins, with Harry helping where he could. It was more manageable when they were quarantined, but now that life was returning to normal and the kids were getting older, there was only so much Y/n could manage on her own. Enrolling the kids in school seemed like the logical next step, and although some of them were excited by the new adventure, others were more apprehensive.
"Tell you what," Harry said when he realized selling the joys of school wasn't working on Julian. "When mum and I pick you and your sisters up today, we'll go get ice cream, how about that?"
"And we can feed the ducks too?" Jules asked, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.
Harry grinned. "Yep. We can go to the park and feed the ducks too. But you have to go to school first."
Julian's curls bounced on his forehead as he nodded. "Okay."
"Now dry your tears, bubbie. You're gonna have the best day ever," Harry said as he stood up.
"And you will dry your tears too, Daddy?"
Chuckling to himself, Harry wiped the corner of his eye. "Yes, JuJu. See? All gone."
Harry held his son's hand as they walked into the classroom together. Maeve was already inside, playing with a set of building blocks that were on a colorful carpet. From there, the transition was a little easier, though Harry shared a tearful goodbye with the twins when it was finally time for class to begin. He was the last parent to leave, and the teacher had to gently but firmly usher him out of the room so class could start. He stayed out in the hall for a few minutes, watching Julian to make sure he didn't burst into tears the second Harry left. Maeve was thankfully sat at the same table with two other children, and things seemed to be going well.
Before Julian noticed him in the hall, Harry left for the parking lot, wiping away the few tears that escaped yet again as he walked away from his babies. Y/n was in the car, Geneva and Natalia already in their car seats and ready for the drive home.
"How was it?" she asked.
"As expected. I had to cut a deal with Julian to get him to actually go into the classroom. Minimal tears."
"From you or from our son?"
Harry cut a glance at his wife, whose eyes were on the road in front of her as she drove away from the school. His heart clenched at the thought of leaving his children behind, but he tried not to show it. "Ha ha. Very funny."
"You were very brave," Y/n continued to tease.
Harry only hummed, glancing sidelong at his wife before saying, "Your mascara's running by the way."
"It is not."
"It is. You look like a raccoon. A very cute raccoon."
"Whatever," Y/n mumbled, subtly wiping beneath her eyes. Then, promptly changing the subject, she asked, "What did you have to promise Jules?"
"The usual. Ice cream and a trip to the park."
Y/n smiled. "Good. I was worried you were going to bribe him with a trip to his favorite candy store in New York."
"That was one time."
Y/n laughed as she turned into their neighborhood, her eyes softening as they slowly approached their empty house. It was definitely odd to only have two children with them at home, having gotten used to the usual chaos of wrangling seven children at once. Y/n and Harry had been reassuring each other for weeks that this was a good idea, promising themselves all the things they would get to do with a little more peace and quiet in the house.
When they got inside, Natalia in Harry's arms and GiGi on Y/n's hip, it was eerily quiet. No sounds of television shows, no arguing, no sounds of little feet running around. It was too quiet.
"You know, I forgot to pack the twins a snack this morning," Harry said suddenly. "They have a lunch and a snack time, don't they?"
"Yeah, but they can just—Oh. H, you're not serious."
Harry was in fact dead serious. "What will all their friends think if they have to eat a snack from their lunch box? It's inconceivable!"
Y/n leveled her husband with a look, making sure she knew his antics were a lot, even for him. Harry just stared back insistently, not willing to change his mind.
"You know you're crazy, right? Like this is crazy, even for you."
Ignoring her jab, Harry said to Geneva, "You want to go on another car ride?"
"Yeah!"
"Then it's settled. As soon as I put their snacks together, we'll go."
Y/n rolled her eyes at Harry, but couldn't deny wanting to see her kids one last time before they really had to be left alone so they could learn and adapt. Once they were back in the car and headed back to the school, Y/n rested her hand over her husband's.
"You know this can't be a thing, though, right?"
Harry shrugged, now behind the wheel. "We'll see. I'm a very forgetful person."
#harry styles#young mom! reader#young dad! harry#young parent!harry styles#young dadrry#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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CLUBMOMCLUBMOMCLUBMOMCLUBMOMMMMMM-
*ahem*
I apologize for outburst- allow me to demonstrate my idea in a civil manner.
CLUBMOMMY GIVING SEVIKA A HARD TIME BY NOT FUCKING HER FOR A WEEK AND SEVIKA LITERALLY BEGGING ND SHIT TILL CLUB MOM THINKS SHE"S HAD ENOUGH AND FUCKS HER A CLOSET NEXT TO THE STRIPPER BATHROOM ND SEVIKA TRYING TO STAY QUIT BUT THERE GOES CLUB MOM MAKING HER DO A SQUIRTING ORGASM W HER DICK FOR LIKR THE THRID TIME SO SHE"S JUST CRYING AND BEGGINF FOR MORE LIKE SHE DOESN'T WORK THE NEXT DAY ND NEEDS TO USE HER VOICE FOR MEETINGS AND-
*ahem*
Very eleoquent, I know. My love for you and the public knows no bounds.
Besitossss [kisses]!!! ilyyyy!!!
💐💐💐💐
*cracks my knuckles* alright lets do it
men and minors dni
you and sevika got in your first big fight a week ago.
you've been dating for two years, living together for a year and a half, but until this week, your disagreements have remained small.
sure, you spat and bicker all the time-- but that's mostly just because you and sevika 'give major old married couple vibes'-- at least, according to crystal.
but this fight was different.
sevika had a horrible night at work, and all she wanted to do was pick you up from the club, take you home, and have you wrap around her like a koala while you scratched her scalp and gently hummed her to sleep.
you, on the other hand, had had an excellent fucking night. the club was jam-packed with a bachelor party from piltover-- and the girls scammed those rich suckers dry.
so after close, when you and the girls were counting money and getting ready to head home, cherry popped a celebratory bottle of champagne. which resulted in another bottle-- which resulted in you shaking your ass on the stage for a dozen of cheering laughing strippers-- all throwing money at you and chanting, "go mom! go mom! get it mom! go mom!"
it's not like you were naked, or dancing alone. all the girls were dancing beside you, and the club was empty besides you, them, and jimmy, and you were all high off a night of great earnings and a little tipsy on champagne.
but when sevika stumbled through the back doors, exhausted, beaten up, likely concussed and stone cold sober, she didn't see any of those details.
what she did see was you shaking your ass for cherry where she sat in a recliner on the floor.
it got really ugly, really fast.
a screaming match in the alley became a screaming match at home which became you packing a bag and leaving.
and now it's been a week of you sleeping on cherry's couch.
you miss sevika so fucking much.
she misses you too.
when you'd left, you'd tiredly, shakily asked sevika to give you time.
she did. for twelve hours.
but the following night as you clocked in for work, you were shocked to see your girlfriend sitting in the back of the club, sipping on a whiskey.
"i told you i needed time, sev." you huffed as you trudged over to the booth she was tucked in.
"i'm not here for you." she lied. you raised an eyebrow at her.
"buying a dance?" you asked. she huffed and rolled her eyes.
"fuck off, you know i'm not. obviously, i'm here for you-- i couldn't fucking sleep last night... i know you want time. you can have it. i won't bug you, but... please don't make me leave." she whispered this last part, her voice a little wobbly. "i just... miss you. wanna see you. i won't talk to you, i promise."
you'd sucked in a shaky breath, tried to keep your tears from falling, and nodded quickly before turning around and fleeing to the locker room.
and now, it's been a week of sleeping on a lumpy couch and listening to cherry hook up with jimmy through her thin-ass walls; a week of sevika's big puppy eyes watching your every move while you're out on the floor, of her having the girls bring you drinks and food, of her stuffing flowers and apology notes into the slats of your locker; and you're done fighting with her.
you miss her so much it hurts. you love her so much it hurts.
so tonight, you've got a plan: you're gonna make her grovel a little more, and then you're gonna go home with her.
you've got your duffel bag packed and waiting in your locker and everything.
sevika seems to have caught on to the fact that she's out of the doghouse. she's been grinning at you all night, waving you over like she's a customer who needs help, only to try to make chit chat with you and flirt for a while. she's adorable.
right now, she's watching you make your rounds around the club, her gaze burning on your back.
"did you 'n sev get in another fight?" trinity asks from behind the bar. you blink at her in confusion.
"no, why?" you ask.
she nods to where sevika's sitting across the bar behind you. "she's lookin' at you like she's plottin' to kill you." she says. you bite your lip and try to keep back your nervous giggle.
"y-yeah, that's... that's her horny face." you admit. trinity bursts into laughter, throwing her head back as she cackles. you groan, reaching across the bar to pull the bottle of tequila out of her grasp, and quickly pouring yourself your own shot before handing the bottle back to her. "are you good over here?" you ask, already backing away from the bar to avoid your friend's teases.
trintiy's still too busy laughing to answer verbally, so she shoots you a thumbs up and waves you away.
you finish your go around the club pretty quick.
frosty has you help her find the tip of the broken nail she'd chipped off-- using your flashlight to scour the floors of the dark club until you found the glittery nail, then gluing it back on for her.
you help a shaky old man figure out the cash-machine, withdrawing a stack of ones for him then helping him to a seat, waving star down to dance for him-- she likes the older gentlemen.
and then, after putting band-aids on the blisters on the back of shelly's feet, making sure mandy takes her medicine break, and spraying body glitter on buttercup's back for her; you finally get to turn around and catch sevika's gaze.
she grins when you approach her booth.
"hey, mama."
you shiver. 'mama' is her own personal take on the nickname your girls have for you, and it makes you weak in the knees hearing it now after a week. "scoot over." you mumble, trying to ignore her knowing smirk.
sevika slides into her booth, letting you sit beside her, passing you her drink so you can have a sip of her whiskey.
"you seem awfully happy tonight." you say.
sevika shrugs. "i've got a good feeling." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, and she giggles. "think i might get lucky tonight; might take a pretty girl home with me."
you snort, elbowing her but not denying her accusation.
sevika's smile grows cocky, and her arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into her strong chest. she presses a long, firm kiss to your scalp, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, before she sighs and pulls away, blinking her eyes back open. "i've fuckin' missed you." she whispers.
you sigh, melting against her. for a while, you guys just sit together, letting the loud thumping of the club music take over the conversation.
you finish sevika's whiskey. she doesn't seem to mind, her lips are occupied by peppering kisses on your head. eventually, you speak again. "cherry's couch is fucking horrible."
sevika snorts. "i'll give you a massage when we get home." she mutters. you giggle.
"you seem pretty certain that you'll be takin' me home tonight." you tease. sevika's eyes widen a bit in worry and she stiffens beside you.
"but... i am, right?" she asks, her voice insecure. your stomach bursts into butterflies. you were not expecting that reaction.
you were expecting her to say something suave and hot, to turn the tables and tease you, or to just straight up kiss you. you weren't expecting the needy, whiny tone of her voice.
it's rare, but sevika gets like this sometimes. you're not surprised it's happening now after a week apart, you just didn't expect it. but now that it's happening, and sevika's looking at you with those big, begging eyes, you're thrilled.
you give your plan for the night a quick mental edit: you'll make her grovel a lot, and then you'll take her home.
"depends." you answer, smiling at your girlfriend and reaching up to cup her cheek. she nuzzles into your touch.
"on what?" she asks. you grin, kiss the tip of her nose, and then whisper in her ear.
"how pretty you beg."
you don't wait for her reaction. you just kiss her cheek and then slip out of the booth, sauntering back to the locker room. you can feel her shocked gaze on your retreating figure, so you swing your hips a bit, making your ass sway a little more than usual. just before you reach the locker room, you can make out an emphatic "fuck" above the music coming from sevika's booth. you burst into laughter.
sevika wastes no time taking you up on your challenge.
two minutes after you push through the doors, sevika comes tumbling through, her eyes wide and her smile soft as she trails over to your little desk in the corner.
"baby..." she starts. you snort, and sevika sits her ass on your desk, looking down at you where you're in your chair. you prop your legs up into her lap, and her hands immediately grab your ankles to start rubbing circles in the skin. "please lemme take you home." she whispers.
the locker room is empty right now, all the girls are out on the floor. so, you decide to be evil. "what?" you ask. "didn't hear you, baby."
sevika grunts, and rolls her eyes. "please let me take you home tonight, honey." she asks at a normal volume. you smile, reaching out for her hand and pulling it forward to press a kiss to her knuckles.
"i'll think about it." you tease. sevika groans, kicking her feet a bit. you have to bite back your smile.
"babe!" she cries. "i-i-i missed you so much." she pouts. "i missed your fuckin' laugh and the crumbs you're always leavin' in bed and your morning breath and... and i missed your tits babe, fuck!" she whines.
you pull your feet out of her lap and stand up. her slouch against your desk means you're towering over her, now, and you smile down at her as you cup her face in both of your hands. "i missed you too, sev." you whisper. the smidgen of worry in her look of general desperation disappears at your words, and you relax a bit, knowing that now she's just horny and not worried you're still mad.
she puckers her lips, expecting a kiss. you snort, then lean forward a give her a quick, chaste peck.
it's not enough. it's nowhere near enough, and now that you've kissed her again after a week, your desperation for her is becoming incredibly apparent in your underwear. but still, you pull away. because you want to see how far you can take this.
"tell me more." you whisper against her lips.
sevika makes a little noise of protest when you pull away from her face. "i, uh..." she tries, blinking rapidly to get her brain working. "i missed the way you're always nagging me. turns out you're right, about most of it. i tripped over one of the socks i left on the floor in the middle of the night and nearly broke my neck-- i couldn't decide if you'd laugh or cry when you found out i died that way." she whispers.
you laugh then kiss her again as a reward for her words. "i'd cry. and then laugh. and then cry forever. tell me more." you demand. sevika smiles, catching onto your game quickly. her hands reach out and hold your hips, and you allow it... for now.
"missed your ass." she says simply. you snort, and kiss her again, licking against her bottom lip this time. her eyes are hazy when you pull away.
"tell me mo--"
"missed your smile." she whispers. "fuck, 'specially the one you give me when i wake you up in the mornings. 'n that annoyed one-- where you're trying not to laugh but you really want to." she giggles a bit. your heart melts, and you kiss her again. "i missed your lips." you kiss her. "i missed your hands." you kiss her. "fuck, baby, i missed your pussy." she whines. you grin. bingo.
sevika cracks one of her closed eyes open when she's not immediately rewarded with a kiss for her confession. she pouts at you, but you talk before she can complain.
"oh, sev." you whisper. "i missed your pussy."
sevika nearly slides off the desk at your words. if it weren't for you standing between her legs, she'd be on her ass on the floor after her knees locked. you laugh as you steady her on your desk, then swoop forward to capture her lips in a hot kiss, threading your fingers in her hair.
sevika's clawing at your belt loops and shirt, trying to drag you impossibly closer to her body. you chuckle against her lips, working one of your hands between your bodies to start fiddling at her pants button.
"lemme touch you?" you ask. sevika's already gasping for air like she's run a marathon, her eyes big and glossy and needy as she nods. you grin, and shove your hand down the front of her boxers.
she's soaking fucking wet, and she immediately leans forward to hide her face against your shoulder while you gasp at your discovery. "sev." you whine. she grunts.
"shut up."
"my needy girl." you continue. she whimpers, then turns to bite your throat.
you don't even mean to start fucking her-- she's just so wet that two of your digits slip right into her, with no resistance. you both gasp. "fuck! please!" sevika cries. you laugh.
"keep it down, baby, the girls could come in here any minute."
"please don't stop, please, fuck mama, i missed you so fuckin' much--"
you shut her up by pressing your lips against hers, swallowing her words as you nip her lip.
when you pull away from her to suck in a breath of air, you push her mouth to your neck to keep her quiet.
still-- even with her whimpers and whines muffled, her cunt's so wet and loud anybody'd know what you two are doing if they came through the door.
"shit, honey, do you hear yourself? you're so fucking cute, missed me so much, this is all for me, isn't it?" you ask. she mumbles something incoherent against your neck, her hips humping your hand, her head nodding. you laugh. "fuck, i missed you, too sweetheart." you whimper. she growls against your throat and you giggle. "cum for me, love."
sevika cums with choked whine, soaking your hand as she falls apart.
you pull her away from your throat to kiss her through her orgasm, slowing down the rhythm of your fingers until you're still. sevika's still twitching and whining when you pull away.
"you okay?" you ask, pulling your hand out of her pants and licking up her cum.
sevika grunts, then falls forward, her forehead against your tits. "so fuckin' good." she says. you laugh.
"god, baby. i wish i had my strapon, i'd fuck you over my desk."
sevika's head snaps up from your chest, a non-orgasmic blush creeping up her cheeks. you raise an eyebrow at her.
"uh..." she mutters.
"uh?" you ask.
"just... fuck. c'mon." she grunts as she shoves herself off the desk and past you, her legs shaky as she walks. you laugh as you follow behind her, wrapping your arm around her waist to keep her steady as she guides you to the supply-closet in the back of the locker room.
the room's barely big enough to fit the both of you, but you shove in after your girlfriend to see what she's rummaging around for.
she turns around with a shy smile, avoiding your gaze.
"sev?" you ask.
she sighs, then shoves something she was hiding behind her back in your hands. you look down at the jumble of fabric straps and metallic buckles, and burst into laughter. "what's this?!" you ask.
"the emergency strap." sevika says, shrugging. you hinge forward at your waist as laughter overtakes you, reaching out to steady yourself on your girlfriend's arm.
"wh-- the what?!" you squeal. she groans, rolling her eyes but smiling a bit at your laughter.
"it's exactly what it sounds like! i keep 'em stashed in various places in case of emergency, like right now."
"how many emergency straps do you have sev?" you ask.
sevika shrugs. "half a dozen stashed around zaun. one in piltover, behind that bakery you like so much." she says. "it started with just one here and at the last drop, but then you jumped me in the alley behind your salon and i was completely unprepared, so i decided to stash one near all our go-to spots."
you can't stop laughing, you can't believe the woman in front of you is yours. "i'm so fucking in love with you it's insane." you manage to laugh out.
sevika's embarrassed expression melts, and she pulls you in for a crushing hug. you wrap your arms around her, the dildo and harness dangling from your hands and brushing her shoulders as you laugh in her arms. "i love you too." she mumbles. "i don't wanna fight with you ever again. not like that. i'm so sorry."
"'s okay baby. you were pissy, i was drunk, neither of us were in the place to settle a disagreement. i'm sorry i left. that was shitty."
"don't apologize." she whispers. you chuckle, then pull away from her shoulder to catch her eye.
"okay. but only if you don't apologize either." you ask. sevika smirks.
"alright, deal." she says. then, she reaches behind you and pulls the door to the supply closet shut. "now put that thing on." she demands.
you burst into laughter, but start navigating the loops of the harness regardless.
five minutes later, and you're balls deep inside your girlfriend as she fucks you.
sure, you're wearing the strap, but sevika's got you pinned to the door, working her hips and ass on your cock as she groans into her folded arms resting on the shelf of cleaning supplies in front of her.
"holy fucking shit, sevika." you huff. she whimpers, and you smack her ass. "baby--"
"more!" she chokes out. you growl, smacking her ass again and widening your stance as you try to keep up with the pace she's set. "fuck, fuck, more, i need more, please, mama, please gimmie m--"
you sink both of your hands into her hips, use all your body weight to crush her against the shelf in front of her, her back arching gorgeously, and you give her ass one more nice smack before you start hammering into her.
disinfectant bottles and sponges start falling off the shelves, which are hammering into the back wall. your hips are smacking violently against her ass, and she's doing nothing to muffle her cries anymore.
"yes! yes, yes, yes, baby, fuck!" she cries. "shit, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum on your fuckin' cock, mama, fuck i missed you, i love you so much, don't stop, don't stop, please don't--"
"i'm right here, baby. not goin' anywhere."
sevika falls apart at your words. you hitch an arm around her waist to keep her upright as her knees wobble, and when she starts to squirt all over your cock, thighs, and the floor beneath her, you cum.
"shit, sev!" you cry. she's still cumming, gasping and getting out choked half-laughs of pleasure as you fuck her through your orgasm. with each snap of your hips, a little gush of cum leaks down sevika's legs. by the time your hips still, sevika's shaking and shuddering like she's being electrocuted. you laugh as you watch her twitch, little drops of cum 'plink plink plink'ing to the ground from her cunt. "you alright, baby?"
"mmmuhng..." she mumbles.
you chuckle and kiss her back. "'m gonna pull out." sevika winces and squeaks when you pull out, one final stream of squirt trickling down her legs as you do. you just grin, then turn her around to face you. she's grinning, her eyes closed in post-coital bliss, and you kiss her cheek gently. "open your eyes, baby." you whisper, reaching up and cupping her face.
sevika blinks her hazy eyes open, smiling at you. "hey." she grins.
"hi, love." you laugh. "how're you feeling?"
"babe..." she grunts, glaring at you a bit and flopping her arm out to gesture at the general soaked state of the closet around you. "jus' flooded your supply closet with cum. i'm amazing." she giggles.
you snort, and then swoop in to kiss her on the mouth.
it's surprisingly easy to clean the mess you made-- since you made it in the cleaning supply closet. the mops take care of sevika's puddles, a few paper towels dry hers and your thighs. she shows you where she stashes the emergency strap, in a tile in the ceiling, and you snort and make a mental note to disinfect it tomorrow.
you get dressed, straighten up sevika's hair as she does the same for you, and then you both stumble out of the supply closet, giggling.
cherry's standing in the locker room, an unimpressed look on her face. sevika groans in embarrassment, hiding her face against your shoulder, and you just laugh at your friend's face.
"hey cherr-bear." you great. she rolls her eyes.
"you two are disgusting. you traumatized poor shelly."
"you gave jimmy a blowjob during your smoke break just yesterday!" you squawk.
sevika perks up behind you at the new gossip. "you're hooking up with jimmy?" she giggles.
cherry snorts and rolls her eyes fondly at sevika.
"it's completely different if me and the girls hook up here. you are our mom. and you're, like, our cool new step-dad or something!" cherry shouts, waving her arms at you and sevika. "nobody wants to hear their parents hooking up!"
"thanks for taking care of her while i was being a shithead." sevika says, ignoring cherry's rant. she deflates, a sweet smile on her lips as she considers you and your girlfriend.
"just don't do it again. i had to stop, like, four girls from tryna murder you for hurtin' mom." cherry says.
you blink.
"wait, what?" you and sevika ask simultaneously. cherry just shrugs.
"'m just glad you made up. any longer, and trinity was really gonna call up her big brother." she says. sevika bursts into laughter behind you, and you smile, equally touched and disturbed by your girls' protective behavior. "you two go home. y'all clearly got a lotta catchin' up to do. i'll watch the girls the rest of the night, mom, and i'll keep your earnings for you until tomorrow." you raise a suspicious eyebrow at your best friend, and she laughs. "okay, i'll give you eighty percent of your earnings. i gotta take a little off the top-- rent for the past week of you crashing on my couch."
sevika's already in your locker, gathering your stuff and tugging you toward the back door. "thanks cherry!" she calls over her shoulder.
you let yourself be dragged out, blowing cherry a goodbye kiss.
in the alley, sevika shoves you against the brick wall for a sloppy kiss.
when she pulls away, her eyes are gentle and sweet. "lemme take you home?" she asks.
you smile. "lead the way, babe."
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain
#this is like the third or fourth fic i've written where reader and sev hook up in a cleaning supply closet lmaooooo#sevika#soft sevika#sevika x you#sevika smut#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#sevika imagine
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