#this has been sitting in my drafts for months and i don’t know what prompted it originally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 3 months

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I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!”

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?”

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

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taintedtort · 1 year

Text

prompt ✧ reader with a drained social battery

characters ✧ itto, scaramouche, kazuha, xiao

warnings ✧ gn!reader , none!

a/n ✧ this has been in my drafts for MONTHS. finally posting cus i haven’t written in a week..

ITTO

✧ doesn’t understand the concept of ‘low social battery’ , and since you weren’t in the mood to explain it to him, you’d have to cut the visit short and go home to sit in peace for a while.

“you’re going? where?” you felt awful after seeing the frown replace his happy smile he wore seconds earlier.

“i’m tired, im gonna go home, but i’ll see you tomorrow if you want.” you cringed slightly at the way his face fell even further. he reached forward and took your hand in his.

“aw man, but we were just getting started!” he pouted. a look of slight shock took over your features. just getting started? god, you’re already completely drained right now!

“i’m sorry, we can finish up tomorrow?” your tone was questioning, unsure if you should just stick it out to save his feelings, or go home to your private sanctuary. you had to admit, the latter sounded much more appealing.

a sigh left his lips before he lazily nodded, “okay, that’s fine.” he smiled once more before giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“i hope you feel better.”

SCARAMOUCHE

✧ completely understands, he hates unwanted company too. will take you to his private office away from the crowd of people and let you sit, alone or with him, he’ll let you decide.

“what?” you heard scaramouche ask, annoyance lacing his voice. you glanced over and plastered on a fake smile, “nothing, just tired i guess.”

you attempted to shrug it off, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you off into his office. you were a bit shocked, but mostly confused.

“stay in here, i can tell you’re uncomfortable,” he grunted, gesturing his head to his office chair, silently telling you to take a seat. you obliged and plopped down with a long sigh.

“you wanted to get out of there too, didn’t you?” you questioned, a small smile playing on your lips. when he simply replied with a curt nod, you let the room fall silent as you closed your eyes, attempting to gain some energy back. when you opened your eyes to glance at him, he was staring at you. a smile twitched onto your lips.

“thank you.”

KAZUHA

✧ he partly understands how you feel, but being on a boat, there isn’t a lot of quiet places to hide. he can easily recharge by sitting and simply staring at the ocean, peacefully listening to the bustle of people. but he knows that doesn’t work for you, so he tries to help the best he can.

“are you alright, love?” he quietly asked in your ear. your head snapped up as you halted your heads that were picking at your nails. you flashed him an uncomfortable smile before shrugging.

he gently took your hand in his and lead you to the storage unit inside the ship. it wasn’t completely quiet, you could hear people walking above you and the waves of the sea below your feet, but it was better than up there. you sat down on a crate with a grunt, relaxing your body. he stared down at you with a loving smile, pure adoration in his eyes.

“should i go so you can be alone for a little?” he gently asked. you raised your face to look him in the eye before shaking your head.

“no, please stay.”

XIAO

✧ understands better than anyone. you don’t even have to ask before he’s sweeping you off your feet and teleporting to a private place where you two can be alone.

“come here.” xiao gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards him. you made a quiet noise of shock before making contact with his chest. his arms wrapped around you before a wave of warmth engulfed you and a flash of green and black invaded your vision.

you felt two taps on your cheek before your eyes opened, which you didn’t even remember closing. you looked around, taking in the scene of a beautiful spring right in front of you. the sound of the water and the trees moving from the gentle breeze made you break out into a smile.

you felt his arms loosen around your waist, letting you slip away and explore the new area. you took a seat on a rock near the water, looking around at the peaceful sanctuary. xiao stood behind you, watching you take everything in, your eyes full of wonder.

“is this okay?” he mumbled. you turned your body to him with a wide smile. blush covered his cheeks at the adorable sight.

“it’s perfect, thank you so much.”

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starfinss · 1 year

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Thanks for answering my ask!😊 i do have request/suggestion involving Cyno haha, what about a 🍋 scenario where Cyno, Al Haitham and a character of your choice get accidentally hard from having their S/O innocently sit on their lap? They try to hide it but they fail.. 🙈 if that would be alright with you!

This has been in my inbox for literal months, I am SO sorry.

I’ve been planning a trip abroad, plus I’ve had no ideas for this prompt until like an hour ago when I was playing Genshin and thinking of story ideas. Anyway, sure, I’ll write that. The character of my choice will be Lyney, because I’m working on his build right now and I’ve been sort of drafting a fic for him while I’m writing the Jing Yuan fic.

As always, let me know if any of you want full fics from this.

—𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴.

— 𝘈𝘭𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮

— Unless you’re at home together, I doubt Alhaitham would let you sit on his lap for this very reason.

— Alhaitham is a man who lives my the rules of logic, and while I won’t say he hasn’t fucked you on his desk at work, he’d call those ‘momentary lapses in judgement.’

— Not that he didn’t enjoy them, though.

— He’s the type who likes to do things where the chances of being caught are low. He likes to draw things out, doing everything he can to make you feel good. And so, he prefers to engage in activity like this in the comfort of your bedroom.

— So, in instances like this, if you were to convince him to let you sit in his lap while you waited for him to finish up his work after everyone was home for the night, he might give in, just a little bit.

— Really, you just wanted to be close to him, maybe close your eyes for a while. He loves closeness as much as the next person, being near to the one you love is always nice.

— The risk of being seen in such a compromising position is low, which is a plus, and he gets to feel your warmth against his body as he finishes what he has to do for the day.

— But then you shift forward, nuzzling closer, and your body rubs against his just right, and oh Archons, he doesn’t have time for this.

— The way your body settles so perfectly over him makes his mind scatter to anything and everything besides work. The friction as you rearrange yourself against him is enough to make him feel like he’s going crazy.

— He hides it well, though. Alhaitham is good at keeping a blank face.

— As casually as he can, he shifts you back so you’re away from his growing erection, because he has to finish this paperwork before he leaves, and you’re so maddeningly distracting.

— But that doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him quizzically, and when you’re met with a blank stare, you shift back to where you were most comfortable, just to see his reaction.

— He sets his jaw, breath catching as he stiffens, unable to hide the way his body reacts to yours as you realize why he moved you away.

“Did I make you hard?” You whisper, a little surprised, “I didn’t even do anything.”

A quiet scoff as he looks at you fully, his self-restraint beginning to fray. Damn you for always having this effect on him.

“It’s kind of hard not to with you practically grinding against me.”

A sly smile overtakes your face, the innocent desire to hold him replaced with something much more lascivious.

“Would you like some help with that, Mister Acting Grand Sage?”

— Lips collide, and you end up bent over the desk as he holds you in place by your hips, the office filled with the sound of skin on skin and his low, pleasured groans as he fucks you, deep and hard, just the way he knows you like it.

— Needless to say, that paperwork didn’t end up getting done that night.

— 𝘊𝘺𝘯𝘰

— Like Alhaitham, I don’t think Cyno would really allow such a thing unless the two of you were alone in your own home.

— He doesn’t like breaking rules or doing things that could be seen as unbecoming, especially not in public.

— It’s because of the fact that he most likely wouldn’t engage in that sort of thing in public that I also doubt he’d try and hide it.

— In his eyes, things tend to be rather black and white, and he separates your sex life together from everyday life. He associates you sitting in his lap with other more improper thoughts that he shouldn’t be distracted by when he’s working or out of the house.

— It doesn’t change just how much he loves you, and even in daily life he expresses that in other ways.

— This is getting long winded and stupid but I want this to be interesting and not just “he’s reading a book and you’re in his lap,” which I could very easily do.

— I sure am a writer. Also this idea is stupid, but it’s also fun. I will probably write a full fic for it.

— But, anyway, the point I was making is, if you were to accidentally end up in his lap, then because of that association between you being that close and sexual activity, he might end up getting hard rather easily.

— While tracking a fugitive scholar together, the two of you end up being forced to fight when a group of Eremites come through, and the ensuing scuffle catches the attention of a herd of Sumpter Beasts.

— You and Cyno are confined into a small hiding space, and because of the limited amount of room, you’re forced to straddle him.

— You, of course, are wriggling around, trying to get comfortable in the awkward position, and it’s when you finally settle down onto his lap and he catches you by the waist to keep you from fully resting against him that you realize what has happened.

— He’s not meeting your eyes, simply looking out through the gaps in the rocks to watch the herd of beasts go by, but you can see his jaw tighten when you shift forward and out of his grip. When you move your hips down, a hand shoots out to still you with a grip that is nearly bruising.

“Stay still.”

— You’re a little surprised, he’s usually able to keep that sort of thing under control fairly well, but in retrospect, you can’t really blame him with all the moving around you were doing.

“Sorry,” you croak, suddenly mortified, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he says, “my body simply responded to the stimulation. It is always a possibility in such close quarters. Just stay still, please.”

— The rocks are digging into your knees, and despite his warning, you still try and shift for some relief, as slowly as you can, but he’s getting harder, and you can feel his hands scrambling for a grip on your hips and waist, and when he looks at you, the glint in his eyes is equal parts pleading and haggard.

— Slowly, teasingly, you roll your hips, and his head falls back against the wall of rocks behind it, eyes fluttering closed as you grind against him, the way he’s holding you so flush against him making the friction ever better.

“We shouldn’t,” he says, though his own protest sounds unconvincing as his voice drops several octaves lower, rough with lust, and especially so when his hips rise to press you even closer.

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?” You ask, wanting so badly to kiss him, and instead of answering you, he catches the back of your head, crushing your mouth against his.

— The buttons of your shirt are undone, his mouth is on your breasts as you fumble for the front of his shorts, struggling to get your own off, and he simply moves your panties aside after you’ve wrestled out of your clothing before yanking you down, stuffing you full of his thick cock.

— Your cries of pleasure are lost among the hoof beats of the Sumpter Beasts on the path above, and you share heated breath as you ride him, his hand on your waist to guide you along the length of his cock.

— His head dips down to watch where he disappears inside of you, and you feel his grip tighten on your body, feel him twitch inside of you, making you whimper.

— He’s sure to make you cum first, his thumb on your clit, muttering sweet filth into your skin as you come undone above him.

— You end up in that ravine longer than you excepted, if you couldn’t tell.

— 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺

— Unlike the two others, I don’t think Lyney would be as private.

— A conversation with my good friend Paprika made me realize that Lyney is probably the type of guy who goes for what he wants, and if he was interested in someone, he’d likely just show that interest without beating around the bush.

— So I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited his s/o to sit on his lap, just casually, no matter where they were.

— It’s not even sexual, really, he just likes being close to the ones he loves, and you’re no exception. He loves holding you.

— He’s very romantic, too, I’d say. He knows just what to say to get you all weak in the knees. He loves you so much. The poor guy doesn’t have many people in his life who have shown him the love that you have, and he absolutely cherishes you.

— He’d even buy out all the seats in one of the upper boxes of the Opera Epiclese, just to have you all to himself, able to hold you close and tell you just how much he adores you in the dark of the grand auditorium.

— But he’s only human, and if you were to move just right while sitting in his lap, he’s going to have a reaction.

A soft chuckle tickled your ear in the silence, and you felt Lyney’s hands on your waist, gently holding you in place.

“Stay still, please, darling.”

— He wouldn’t really try and hide it, it’s kind of hard to when you’re right there.

— He’d bite back a gasp as you shift again, almost teasing him, shooting you a warning look.

“Can I help with that?”

A soft laugh, slightly strained. “And how would you do that?”

You pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Can I show you?”

He kisses your forehead. “As long as it’s quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the other patrons, would we?”

— You slip down from his lap and to the floor, where you kneel, between his knees. He’s seated in the farthest chair in the box, well hidden from sight if anyone were to look his way. You wouldn’t even be visible from that vantage point.

— He realizes what you’re doing and shifts his legs farther apart to accommodate you, and when you palm him through his slacks, you get the pleasure of watching the way his jaw tightens, breath drawn in sharply through his nose.

— You make short work of his belt and zipper, and he shifts his hips to let you tug his underwear down just enough to free his dick.

— He curses quietly when you wrap your hand around him, and when you begin to slowly stroke, his head tips back against the chair.

— When your mouth presses against his tip, you feel one gloved palm against the back of your head, urging you forward, lacing into your hair when you take him into your mouth.

— You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth as you begin to bob your head, slow and steady, almost teasing, and you can hear him gasp softly above you, see him clamp one hand over his mouth as you watch him through your lashes.

— His grip tightens on your hair, groans muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you squeeze your thighs together, letting yourself moan around him, low and soft, and that’s enough to make his hips buck against your mouth. You know you’ll pay for that when you got home.

— You speed up, and his hand fists into your hair, desperate for any kind of purchase at all, and you hardly mind, especially when it leads to him shifting forward in his seat, forcing you to take more of him, gently guiding you back, only to fill your mouth once more.

— You loosen your throat and let him take control, using your mouth as he pleases, simply content with watching the way his face twists in pleasure, teeth digging into his knuckles as he tries desperately to stay quiet, and you can tell he’s close from the way he’s leaking into your mouth, his thighs shaking, grip growing borderline painful.

— He cums hard, gushing down your throat, and it’s a wonder he stays quiet during his climax, the effort of it all clearly taking a toll on him as you watch involuntary frustrated tears bead at the corner of his eyes and catch in his pale lashes.

— You pull off as he softens, licking your lips and making a show of swallowing, something he watches with heavy-lidded, hungry eyes.

— Cheekily, you settle back into the seat with him after he tucks himself away again, careful to avoid bumping against him.

— Yeah, you didn’t end up getting much sleep after you got home that night.

The fact that this took as long as it did haunts me and I am so sorry.

ALSO I GET TO SEE PAPRIKA IN PERSON THIS FALL YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I’m so excited, and I will probably cry.

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year

Text

Relationship A - Z: (Alfie Solomons x F!Reader)

A/N: I randomly ended up catching a friend rewatching an episode of Peaky Blinders recently, and may have fallen back in love with this man again. So, it felt only right to finish this, after it sitting in my pile of unfinished drafts for months XD...

Yet again, for anyone who wants to know, I’m using Dameronlogy’s list here for this prompt. You can find it on their blog, or here. Thanks for all your love and support recently. It means a lot.

Masterlist:

A - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o?

Alfie listens which makes you feel special and valued to no end - something he demonstrates over and over again in many different ways.

For example, if you say something is your favourite then he is sure to order it and leave it on your desk, whether it’s flowers, perfume, or books by a certain author.

You even catch him one night, reading your favourite book, and can’t believe it when he starts asking you about it at breakfast the next morning, clearly having absorbed every word with great interest.

And conversely, if you say you don’t like something… well, then it is all but eliminated from your life. Mushrooms? He’ll never let them touch your plate again. A certain cologne makes your headache? NO one at the factory can wear it. You’re allergic to something? Then Alfie will add it to a never ending list of enemies that need vanquishing and god help it if someone dares try to bring it close to you.

He also shows it by asking about things you’ve mentioned, remembering all your friends and family names, as well as all the drama too (something you know he thoroughly enjoys catching up on, as yes, whether Mindy’s second husband is cheating on her is more interesting than answering Tommy’s letters.)

B - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed?

However you met, you can guarantee that it took a while for you both to get to a point where you realised how you felt about one another. Alfie would definitely try to woo you though, even from the start. Tipping his hat when he passes you, sending gifts with handwritten notes, and taking you on lavish dates that clearly took time and effort to plan - he is a gentleman in many ways and refuses to treat you as anything less than a lady, even if you continually insist it isn’t necessary.

C - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open close, or would they rather keep the mystery?

He’d try to keep a line drawn between his work and your home life, but I feel he’d surrender pretty quickly once you start wearing it down. He has walls that he’s built pretty high and it takes him a while to figure out that it’s ok to let someone in every now and then - especially you.

Soon enough, he’s sharing everything with you, from the sales figures, to other confidential business information. He keeps nothing back and neither do you. It’s a partnership and that makes you both incredibly happy.

D - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer?

Dates are incredibly important to Alfie. They’re his chance to escape the darkness that follows him in his day to day life and to savour your company. They’re also a chance to strengthen your relationship which is the most important thing in his world.

As for the types of dates, well, Alfie enjoys mixing things up, alternating between quiet evenings at home with you and nights hitting the town.

E - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question?

Alfie would propose to you for sure. In fact, he’s probably been planning on asking you since the moment you first agreed to let him take you to dinner. He can see it all in in his head, and has his mother’s ring on standby for the day he finally musters up the courage to ask.

F - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship?

Loyalty - which I know sounds ironic given Alfie’s history, but it’s different when it comes to your personal lives. You’re not like his business, so there are no muddy waters for you to have to navigate through when it comes to right and wrong. You’re a team and that’s that, first, last, and always.

You have each other’s back and love each other for who you are, and that’s why Alfie loves you so much. As long as you trust one another then you can handle anything, whether it be business at the bakery, or even hosting a dinner for the local community in your home.

G - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

By spoiling you rotten. This could be via services for you, such as foot rubs, making you fall apart over and over in bed, or baking for you. Or, this could also be via material gifts, such as glittering jewels he’s procured from ‘work’ or fine dresses that you know cost far too much for any one person to own. But that’s Alfie. He loves to gift you fine things and watch as you put them on, looking every bit as regal and expensive as a queen - which is just how Alfie sees you anyway.

H - home. a random domestic headcanon.

This man can actually bake, which is fitting given his business front. Still, despite his true business ventures, Alfie can actually bake pretty well and loves to find an excuse to break out his mother’s recipes in the kitchen for you. Most days off start with you waking to the smell of something sweet wafting up the stairs, and the sound of your husband whistling as he works.

He also has a pair of fluffy slippers that he would keep hidden with his life, if it came to it, rather than let anyone other than you know about them. He really doesn’t look so threatening with them on, which isn’t exactly the look he’s going for.

I - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it?

Alfie is a realist. Let’s be honest. He’s seen too much of humanity and the world not to be. Just because he expects the worst out of everyone in the world, doesn’t mean he isn’t determined to make your relationship work anyway. If he wants something he goes for it and his happy ever after is one of those things.

It takes a lot of patience and self-work to not always fly off the handle or let the little things blow up into massive issues. You’d have your bumps along the way, especially in the early days, but you’d both find your feet together. In fact, soon your marriage is the gold standard amongst your friends.

The secret? It’s learning not to see love as something that is either there or not. It’s something you earn, you build, you tend to. You don’t give up on it, no matter what the world throws at you.

J - jokes. who's the funny one?

Alfie is funny and often makes you laugh, but I think you’d get your fair share of laughter out of him too. He’s a goofy one when you finally crack through that shell of his, but he can take banter as well as giving it. In fact, the first time he properly laughed whilst at work he made the entire factory floor grind to a halt in surprise. You’d have heard a pin drop everyone looked so scared and confused.

K - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type?

Alfie may seem like a massive extrovert, and he can be in the right circumstances. But when it comes to you? I feel like this man is private and protective af. He doesn’t like making a massive spectacle of you or your attentions. So, it’s the little kisses that are his favourite. The ones you subtly press to his cheek or hand whenever you’re near him. When you’re sat in his office or in the car together. When you’re lying side by side in bed and fighting the urge to close your eyes and doze off in his arms. They’re a constant reminder of the love you have for him.

L - longing. who's the clingy one? how are they with long distance?

Interestingly, I feel Alfie would be the clingy one, even though he is the one most often away from home, travelling for work. He calls you when he can, though, and makes sure to spend a day with you when he returns.

He also has men watching you to ‘keep you safe’, even if he knows it drives you mad. Still, you put up with it because it makes him happy, making sure to offer each poor sod a cup of tea for their efforts, and charming them each into compliance.

M - marriage. do they wanna get married?

Alfie would love to marry you, let’s be honest. The chance to have a fancy wedding with the local community, and everyone witnessing how lucky he is to call you his? He’d be in his element - and the luckiest bastard alive. To call you Mrs Solomons is something he fantasises about nightly, and the ring box sitting in his desk drawer suggests it won’t be long before he asks you either. He would prefer a traditional Jewish ceremony, but wouldn’t insist if you said otherwise. After all, he just wants you to be happy.

N - nicknames. what ones do they like?

Sweetheart, Darlin’, Love… he has a lot of nicknames for you, each one depending on his mood. You can often tell a lot about how he’s feeling by the nickname he chooses to greet you with. Like, if he calls you by your actual name, then he’s feeling serious about something. It can be good or bad but he doesn’t use it lightly… just as he keeps ‘Oytser’ and a few other Yiddish terms for special occasions, usually when you’re alone.

O - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key?

This is Alfie. He’s OTT to the extreme. This wouldn’t change when it comes to you. His personality is as big as his empire and you wouldn’t change it for the world. It keeps things interesting, for a start, and you fell in love with him for him, just as he did you. That doesn’t mean, however, that you don’t sometimes wish things were simpler and quieter - especially once Tommy Shelby comes into your lives. That man only eggs Alfie on and makes him all the worse.

P - picture. what's their favourite picture of them and their s.o?

It would be something simple yet intimate to be honest, like a wedding photo, or one of the pair of you taken at a company soiree. He loves it because you’re dressed to the nines, wrapped in each other’s arms, and grinning like a pair of love sick soppy bastards.

Q - quintessential. what is one they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what's a deal-breaker for them?

As I said before. Loyalty is everything to him. Plain and simple.

R - rage. who is the most likely to start an argument?

… come on. Alfie. For sure. He probably wouldn’t mean to, unlike when he’s with people to do with the business. Oh no, this man would do his very best not to upset you, given that you’re the one person in all the world that means everything to him. However, he’s still him. He still has a temper and a short fuse that all too often blows up whether it’s about not being able to find his cane, or about the fact he may or may not have pissed off an Italian gangster and needs you to flee to some safehouse for a week.

He’ll take whatever rage you give back to him and can grovel with the best of them. Expect many bouquets, kisses, and angry sex, followed by make up sex is all I can say.

S - sickness. who gets sick most often? what are they like when they’re sick?

Given what we’ve seen in the show, I think Alfie would get ill most often. This can be due to his inability to take a day off or get a decent night’s rest in him, but it can also be due to more serious factors like his war wounds. Still, you’re a great nurse and aren’t afraid of ‘Big bad Solomons’, even if he does his best to get out of taking medicines or staying in bed.

You can be a spitfire when you need to be and when it comes to caring for your husband, then you turn into the most fearsome Solomons in the West End. Scarier men than him have blanched and run away after being screamed at, by you, for refusing to let your husband out of meetings. Even Tommy himself once actually apologised after a dressing down from you, and sent a bottle of whiskey by way of apology.

T - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them?

Alfie would definitely get one for you. He has a lot anyway, but one dedicated to you would be important to him, so that he carries you with him. He’d also probably get it done over his heart, so it is all the more special as he claims it’s a visual reminder of the mark you’ve left on him.

You make sure to call him a softy, but kiss him anyway once he tells you.

U - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult?

All things considered, I think Alfie would actually be rather understanding about most things. It isn’t like his world is black and white, and he knows the world can be a complicated and unfair place. Sure, he’s stubborn but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to at least see things from a different perspective before deciding he was right in the first place.

If anything, you’d be the one who is less understanding. By that, I mean, you have patience - the patience of a god damn saint, according to most of your friends - but God help you if Alfie makes a promise and then breaks it. You’ll put up with almost anything but if he makes a promise then he knows he has to keep it, else face your wrath later.

V - vases. do they buy flowers?

Alfie would buy you flowers all the time. True, he’d normally bark at Ollie to order them for him, especially if it’s for an occasion or if he’s in trouble… he knows exactly what kind of flowers are your favourites and isn’t afraid to send you fields worth if it would make you smile. After all, in a city as grey and metropolitan as London, you savour any bud of greenery or coloured petals. It’s why you’ve come home to the kitchen filled with Sunflowers once or twice, after mentioning that you’d had a bad day… only the best for you, Alfie always says - to brighten your day, just as you brighten his life by being in it.

W - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down?

He may be known as ‘the wandering Jew’ but Alfie would want to settle down, to be honest. You, him, Cyril and whatever kids you two have in a cottage by the sea in Margate… that’s the dream. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy taking you to places though, spoiling you with trips abroad every now and then, like Paris on your honey moon, and Italy for an anniversary.

X - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories?

As king of Camden he would more than likely have a few, but none he’d deem significant enough to tell you about. He’s always been more of a casual fling, kind of guy, until you came along and tipped his world upside down. The only person you’d ever have to worry about rivalling you for his affection has a tail and answers to the name Cyril… and to be fair, you’re pretty in love with him too.

But if you had exes? Well, it depends on how it ended as to whether or not he has some of his men have quiet words with them in the middle of the night…

Y - you. favourite thing about their partner?

Alfie calls you his salvation, and you think he honestly believes that. You accept him for who he is and aren’t afraid of him, which is a minor miracle in itself. You’re patient and kind and all this things Alfie claims he isn’t, which is why he loves you so much - you are the light in his life and he hopes even just being around you is enough to make him a slither less of a sinner.

That, and your irritating, unwavering optimism… oh, it annoys him to no end how you always smile and find silver linings wherever you look. You also seem to know just about everyone, often whistling and waving as you make your way through the factory like a god damn Disney princess. Hell, even the Shelbys seem to like you which really gets on his wick… but why wouldn’t they? You’re amazing, so he can understand even if he doesn’t like it.

Z - zeal. how excitable are they? who's the calm one?

It’s Alfie. Come on - this one is self explanatory, even if I like to think you’d balance each other out. He brings out your extroverted side and you help temper his when he gets a bit much (even if you secretly love how excitable he gets).

#peaky blinders imagine #the peaky blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders headcanon #masterlist #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #tom hardy #alfie solomons #alfie x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby

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wooahaes · 1 year

Text

out for delivery

pairing: none? non-idol!svt with a mention of gn!reader

prompt: that one post i made about reader asking for them to send their cutest delivery guy

genre: comedy. this is just silly stuff teehee

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: food mentions. svt arguing about who is the cutest. i didnt proofread this at all btw its just supposed to be silly goofy fun.

daisy’s notes: this has been in my drafts for over two months.

Junhui was the one who read off your order to the others, only to stop when he saw the special instruction in the delivery spot: send ur cutest guy, pls.

Of course, being someone with access to the internet, Jun had heard of this kind of thing before. People who throw in instructions like that for fun, or people who ask for things to be drawn on their to-go boxes (he always did those when they popped up--his art skills might not be perfect, but he can draw a little cat saying ‘enjoy your food!’ any day), or sometimes the occasional message from someone to another (the ‘person loves you’ or ‘person says to get well soon’ kind of deal). But this? Here? Well...

“Which one of us is the cutest?” He mused aloud, catching Jeonghan’s attention as he stepped away from the kitchen to wipe the sweat off his brow.

“What?”

Jun nodded toward the screen and your specific instruction. “They asked for a cute delivery guy. Who’s working today?”

Jeonghan paused, musing on the question. “Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Vernon,” he listed off, although he continued to wrack his brain to see if that Namjoon guy was in as well. Nah--Maybe on the weekend when they’re busier and need the extra hands, but three already is kind of overkill as it is.

(Not that any of them are complaining, that is: they’re still getting some sort of payment for all of this.)

“It doesn’t say cutest delivery guy,” Jeonghan said. “Just our cutest guy.”

Seungcheol looked up from his clipboard as he came back, brow raised. “Me?”

Jeonghan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, I’m the cutest one here. I’ll make it.”

It was at this point that they’d started gathering the attention of everyone currently in (which, today, had been everyone except for Soonyoung, who was still out on a delivery across the city).

Seungcheol stared at him, “You don’t work delivery--”

“So?” Jeonghan said. “I don’t mind going--”

“You don’t, either,” Jun piped up. “I could run if I need to--”

Seungkwan was finally the one to speak up, “What are you talking about?”

For a moment, the three said nothing. If everyone got into this conversation, it’d be an all-out bloodbath, especially with Seungkwan taking part. Yet Wonwoo, who had been sitting nearby, enjoying his few minutes of rest after his own series of deliveries, looked up.

“Someone asked for a cute delivery guy, and they’re debating about it,” he shrugged, looking back at his phone--although the tiny smile on his face was still evident. The rotten fucker--

“I can go,” Joshua spoke up, as if he wasn’t literally working on your order alongside Mingyu. “Just gimme a sec, I’ll change shirts.”

Seokmin, who had been busy rolling out pizza dough, looked up. “Is this really a debate? I think we all know I’m the cutest one here...”

“Both of you work in the kitchens,” Seungcheol said, “you can’t leave.”

“All of us are in today, and it’s slow right now,” Chan said, already washing his hands of flour, ready to remove his apron in a moment. “You guys won’t miss me.”

“Who said you were going?!” Seungkwan whipped around, “If anyone goes, it should be me! Everyone who comes in tells points out how cute I am!”

Mingyu looked up, a cocky smile tugging at his lips. “Who gets asked out the most here?”

Silence. The motherfucker...

And then Minghao looked up. “They said cutest. Not hottest. Which eliminates all of you--”

“I’m very cute!” Seungkwan huffed, “That’s why it should be me.”

Vernon looked up from his phone, yet another delivery boy who probably should just take the order when it’s ready. “I dunno. I think I’m pretty cute. I could do it. Plus,” he shrugged, “kind of my job--”

“You’re hot and you know it,” Jeonghan spoke up. “Hao has a point. They requested the cutest guy--which means it’s down to Seungkwan, Chan, and I.”

Minghao scoffed, rolling up his sleeves. “Just you three?”

Mingyu had thrown an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, dragging him from his quiet spot of observation straight into the conversation. “Jihoon should be included, too.”

“Oh? What if this person flirts with him?” Jeonghan chuckled. “They’re paying in cash and Jihoon would probably walk off without it.”

Jihoon’s face turned red. “I’m not that bad--”

“You almost did it last time you had to work the window.”

“They were too upfront!” Jihoon huffed, his face slowly turning red. “If they had said to you what they said to me, you’d run, too! That’s why Jun had to take over!”

“They said you had pretty eyes!”

Jihoon’s face burned with embarrassment. “It was the way they said it...”

As if in his own world, Jun quietly mused aloud, “I think I’m pretty cute,” as he continued looking over the order again.

“And if Jun’s cute, then I’m cute.” Joshua wiped his hands down his apron, turning back. “Jun, does the order say anything else?”

He shook his head. The only note you had put in was the note they were debating about now: send ur cutest guy, pls. Nothing more, nothing less. Hell, none of them even knew why you’d asked for their cutest guy. Was it a joke? Were you kind of desperate for something? Was this going to be the really bad intro to a porno? The questions persisted.

Seungcheol had been the one who pulled your pizza from the oven when it was time, boxing it up and carefully sealing it. “Who’s delivering it?”

Immediately, several people had volunteered.

He rolled his eyes. “Wonwoo, Vernon--”

“I’ll do it,” Seungkwan insisted further. “They asked for someone cute!”

Vernon raised his brows. “Dude, what the hell--”

“You know you’re hot, shut up.” Seungkwan turned. “If they want someone cute, then it’s only between a few of us. Not including Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan gasped, turning around as he pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m angelic--”

“That’s a lie and you know it!”

The bell chimed as Soonyoung made his way in, going completely ungreeted as the conversation continued. He looked to Wonwoo, who merely shrugged in exchange before watching as Minghao began to make the very well formulated argument that he was the cutest (his fairy-like giggle was direct proof, in his own words--the others called him cute all the time for it). Which caused Seungcheol to argue back that if he was including laughs as evidence, then his own could count because plenty of people found it endearing. Soonyoung said nothing, walking over to where the orders were as he began looking through them for another delivery since his break would come later tonight.

“I’m not saying your laugh isn’t cute,” Seungcheol said, “I’m saying you can’t use it as proof when all of us have cute laughs!”

“Some of you sound like a hyena,” Minghao rolled his eyes, “and some of you are too ‘hot’ to be cute! You talk about how handsome you are all the time--”

“Stop, you’ll make him pout,” Jeonghan chuckled from nearby, “and then he’ll really start insisting he’s the cutest of us.”

The bell chimed again, and Jun merely glanced up to see that it was only Soonyoung leaving. He turned back. “People tell me I’m cute. I’m carefree.”

“Childish cute doesn’t count,” Seungkwan said, lips pursed. “I’m cute because of my mannerisms.”

“The same mannerisms you get mad at Soonyoung for imitating,” Seokmin muttered under his breath, only to earn a deadly glare from Seungkwan. “You do!”

Wonwoo looked back down at his phone, wondering if he should have been recording this entire conversation. “I think I’m cute.”

“One of us has to go,” Joshua spoke up, “before their food gets cold. And I think I should do it because I’ll be the fastest--”

“Dude,” Vernon looked up. “I’m pretty fast on my bike.”

“It’s a bike, we’d all be fast on it,” Minghao scoffed. “Why aren’t one of them doing it?” Minghao gestured toward Wonwoo and Vernon. “They’re the delivery boys!”

“Still on break,” Wonwoo said without looking up, “for another few minutes.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to say something--probably about how one of their breaks had already ended by now.

“Also, Soonyoung just left with it,” Wonwoo added casually enough.

Immediately, several pairs of eyes went to where the order had been left... and sure enough, it was gone.

And then chaos ensued, and Wonwoo hid yet another smile as he listened to several people bemoan that little factoid. Yet Soonyoung was pedaling away, completely lost as to what had gone down while he was gone.

(And when he showed up, bragging about the huge tip that you had given him while laughing about the fact the others had been arguing... Well. They knew what was going to happen the next time you threw in that special request.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @synthetickitsune @gyulbabie @wonuziex

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #... thats it thats all my tags sdkjfhsdf

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fandxmslxt69 · 1 year

Text

Cute Library Boys

Steven Grant x f!Reader

Warnings: Steven being too goddamn cute and fluff!! Some swearing, absolutely tooth rotting dorky-ness.

A/N: Oh my god this has been sitting in drafts for so long but I finally finished editing ahahah. Idk how I feel about it ngl, its cute and has me giggling but !!!! idk. Anyway this IS inspired by a prompt: "Going for the same book at the library" taken from @creativepromptsforwriting (Mona sent me a prompt list literally like 2 months ago thank you @whatthefishh you are too cute for this world.) ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY this is a peace offering before I pour my heart out into the most gut wrenching angst and coochie killing smut <3

-Clem

Synopsis: All you wanted was to have a quiet day browsing books in the library. Who knew you'd manage to find the cutest man to spend your day with right there in the history aisle?

Word count: 3541 (omg.)

Walking through the library, you gently ran your finger over the spines of the book, feeling worn out paper and leather on your fingertips. It was always relaxing, being surrounded by so many stories, real or not, lives and adventures. You skimmed through a history section, looking for a book that might be of interest, and your eyes landed on one just up ahead, with a pretty spine and a title written in gold. Your fingers jumped to it, but bumped with another hand outstretched to grab it. “Oh sorry, love! Didn’t see you there,” “Oh no it’s alright!” You grinned up to the cute man with the cute British accent. “You can have the book, I don’t mind,” “Oh no,” He shook his head. “Really, you can take it,” “No it’s fine, really, I can just order another from the system,” He grabbed the book off the shelf, handing it to you. “Love, please. I’ve already read it anyway. It’s all yours,” He smiled, a bright breathtaking smile that lit up his whole face. You hesitated but took the book from his hand, adding it to the (very heavy) bag you carried. “Memorised and all?” He chuckled. “I wish,” You grinned at him, and an awkward silence fell as you scanned the rest of the shelf. “Uh,” You cleared your throat. “Anyway. Thank you, a lot, for-” “The book,” He finished. “Yes! The book. Thank you,” He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Alright well uh…I’ll, go, thank you, again,” You rushed to say before quickly dashing off, trying not to think about how pretty he was, or how soft his eyes looked, or his beautiful curls, his soft yet clear features…

No.

You weren’t sure what the hell urged you to turn right back around and down the aisle again, but your feet carried you there anyway, and you found yourself standing right in front of the gorgeous stranger again. “Um. Hi.” You mumbled. Maybe he didn’t hear, maybe you could run be- “Hi! You’re back,” He grinned and you could feel the sunshine radiating off of him. “Yeah. Um..I don’t know I just…yknow…You seem to know your books,” You gestured to the growing pile by his feet. “So I was just..wondering if you had any recommendations? I’m in a bit of a slump, so I wanted to try something new. I mean only if you’re cool with it, if I’m bothering you I’ll just go-” He laughed, a quiet small chuckle that put a huge ass sappy smile on your face. It was contagious, his bubbly energy and cute laughs and smiles. “No it’s alright love, I’d be more than happy to give you a few suggestions, though it might just turn out to be a big ramble,” You shrugged. “Nothing beats a good book ramble,” “Wholeheartedly agree. Now,” He turned to the shelves, his soft eyes scanning the spines of the dozens of books, and he just started rambling- exactly like he said he would. On and on and on, grabbing a few books at a time and talking about them all at once, he looked over the moon to share all this knowledge with someone, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you could barely keep up with him. You just stood there watching him, probably grinning like an idiot, adding every book he put down to the growing pile in your bag. Whether the book was actually interesting or not, you didn’t care. When a cute man excitedly tells you about his favourite books in an aisle in the library, you grab every damn one of those books and you take them home.

By the time he finished going through at least a dozen books, he paused, biting his lower lip to hide a shy smile. “Sorry. Got carried away there,”

Ah shit.

“No no! It’s okay, no apology needed at all. You- it’s cute. You’re cute. When…you do the ramble thing. Cute. Yeah.” You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. There was a beat of silence, before he blurted out, “Steven.” “Sorry?” “Steven…my name. Is Steven. Grant. Steven Grant. It kind of just hit me that I didn’t introduce myself,” “Oh. Oh! Oh right. Oh my god.” You fumbled with your bag, trying to get yourself back in control. “This is embarrassing. I’m so sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you Steven,” He laughed again. “It’s very nice to meet you too,” You nodded. How many times are you going to nod. Quit it. “So…um,” you cleared your throat, wondering if it was too late to ask for a hole to open up and swallow you whole. “Yknow..there’s um…this cafe, right down the street, and it’s really nice and they’ve got pretty decent coffee and food. I was wondering if…you know, if you’re free anyway, and not too busy or if you have something better to do I totally get it-” “I’d very much like to go to the cafe down the street with you,” Steven interrupted, and you stared at him, jaw hanging open slightly as you took in his shy smile and the light rose of his cheeks. “I mean, if that’s what you’re asking-” He rambled quickly to add. “Yes! Ah, uh, yes, that is what I’m asking,” You grinned widely, cheeks starting to hurt from how damn much you were smiling at this cute stranger in the history aisle of your local library. “Great! Wonderful, amazing. I- uh…I’ll…go check out my books? Get settled while you do yours and…” “...we can meet by the front doors?” You finished for him. He nodded quickly, his hair bouncing with each bob of his head. You nodded too, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “Okay. Okay cool. I’ll…go do my thing. And I’ll see you soon?” “Yes, absolutely, 100% yeah,” You chuckled, a few butterflies taking flight through your stomach with all his nervous blabbering.

He’s cute. Real cute, with the nicest warm eyes and a precious crooked smile, and the cutest mop of curls on his head that you desperately wanted to play with. Not to mention his adorable outfit..the cute earth brown pants and the soft sweater that definitely hugged his body in a comfy yet pleasing way.

Screwed. Absolutely, royally screwed.

After awkwardly staring (analysing) him for a solid minute as he grabbed the rest of his books, you turned and dashed to the check out desks, fumbling and mumbling about stupid cute library boys the entire way through the checkout process.

* * *

As you both left the library, a light silence falling between you, he couldn’t help but take a few glances at you, his heart picking up pace, a giddy laugh building up in his throat- this was new. All of it was so new yet welcomed. He’d be damned if he let it go to waste, whether it be a chance to make a friend, or maybe a little more.

By the time you had reached the shop, his shoulder ached from carrying his bag of books, and you looked ready to drop dead on your feet.

“I can carry your bag if it’s getting you tired,” Steven suggested softly as you entered the cafe. You frowned, hugging your bag tightly to you. “What, no. It’s okay, I like carrying my bag. Makes me feel close to my books,” You pointed to a table by the window. “Here?” He laughed, then nodded. “Yeah this works,” He took a seat, lifting his bag off of him and placing down beside him. “What do you like to read anyway?” “Oooh,” You slid into the seat, you could feel the ache in your lower back start to build. Who even had back problems at this age. “I like a good fantasy novel, and I am guilty of reading way too much romance. I also like poetry. Not a very big person in non fiction though.” “Romance huh?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. “Scandalous romance?” You laughed, shrugging. “What, a woman has her needs, and those needs happen to be pretty men with cute accents,” “Ah right,” He nodded again, then paused. “Wait. I have an accent,” You chuckled, smiling widely. “Yes you do. A cute one too. And you’re cute. Pretty, dare I say,” His eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck and his ears started turning red too as he looked away, averting his eyes and biting at his lower lip. Your heart did a little flip at how cute he looked when he was flustered. “What kinda books do you like, Mr. Grant?” “Hmm,” He flipped aimlessly through the menu, his eyes scanning the millions of different ways they make frappuccinos and espressos. He didn’t even drink coffee that much, he was more of a tea guy. “I like history, big fan of mythologies and stuff,” You sat up, grinning widely. “I love mythology. I was a huge sucker for them in middle school. Still kinda am, honestly,” His heart did a little thing. “Really? What kind of mythology?” You shrugged. “I was really into the Greeks, they were pretty fun and it was a good time. I like the Romans a bit too, but they’re a little boring, yknow? The Norse are wack too, which makes it funny,” You grinned. “I was just a bit obsessed. I had an Egypt phase too for quite a bit,” You could see the way his face lit up, how his eyes widened and a big smile started spreading across his face. “Egypt huh? That’s cool.” He nodded, deciding not to make a further comment lest it come off as too strong. You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Oh come on, you totally had an Egypt phase,” “Did not!” “You so did. C’mon, tell me. I promise I won’t judge! I never could, I had attachments to those guys. You definitely know a thing or two,” He waved you off. “No..I mean, a little maybe. I’ve studied their mythologies and tales, aspects of culture and society, that’s sorta stuff, it’s not interesting really,” “Not interesting?” You scoffed. “Well I find them interesting. C’monnnn,” You nudged his leg under the table. “Who’s your favourite god?” He shook his head, a playful smile on his face. “I’m fond of Taweret. Hippo goddess, resides in the underworld and stuff. She’s nice,” “Yeah? Know her personally?” “Oh yeah, obviously. We have chat over tea all the time,” No way he was this funny. “Really? Wait, hang on,” You leaned in, “if she resides in the underworld, does that mean you’ve died before, Steven Grant?”

He liked it, he decided. The way you said his name, how it rolled off your tongue and out of your mouth so easily, and not the sarcastic way everyone else said it. Heaven, at least you remembered his name, not when half the staff at the old museum couldn’t even get Steven right. He scrunched up his face, thinking deeply. “Hmm. Let’s see. I think I might have, yeah. A few times now actually,” There it was again, the laugh that filled the entire cafe, as your shoulders shook and you threw your head back in joy. “No way, you did not,” You finally said. “I absolutely did! It’s not a good experience obviously, but yknow, an adventure,” “So you’ve like- met Osiris and stuff?” He shrugged. “Maybe,” “Oh come on. Tell me! I’ve always liked him. Given, I always like every death god, so it’s no different,” “He’s alright. Very stiff though, no personality at all, he’s all business serious,” “Well duh, he’s a king,” Steven rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean he’s got to be so boring,” You chuckled again, shaking your head in disbelief as you went back to the menu. “Any other gods you’ve met?” “Hmm.” He tapped his chin a few times, and brushed a curl of hair out of his eye. “I’ve met some night gods. They look like big ugly birds, with a big temper and zero compassion or kindness. Dress in old rags and stuff,” “You’re lying, I swear you’re lying,” “I am not! It’s true. I see one quite often actually, he’s a pain in the ass, right psycho.” “Yeah? He your best friend?” He snorted. “Absolutely not.” You tsked. “Aw, that’s so sad,” “No it’s not. I told you, he’s not right in his mind,” “Yeah but isn’t that all gods?” Steven sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Okay, you make an excellent point, but I’m telling you, this one is bloody psycho. Murderous and whatnot.” He smiled, a big goofy smile that showed his cute dimples. You shook your head again, trying to fight back a stupid sappy grin. “You’re too funny,” “Too funny? Is that bad?” He frowned. “No! No, absolutely not. It’s nice, your jokes are actual..well, yknow, jokes. And it’s kind of nerdy.” “Oi!” He leaned in, pointing a finger at you with an air of amusement. “You just said nerdy was cute,” “It is!! It’s very cute!” “Bloody right. ‘Cause if you came for sports jokes, I’m not your guy,” You laughed. “Nope, no sports jokes for me. I just like an extra side of nerdiness,” He narrowed his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You are horrible,” “Horribly cute, yeah, definitely,” He exploded with laughter, his face all happy smile lines and precious dimples. You smiled widely, your heart doing a little skip with how gorgeous he looks, so full of laughter.

Thankfully though, before he caught you grinning like an idiot at him and trying to memorise his face, a waiter came to your table, and you managed to order your drinks without acting crazy or too dorky.

* * *

“What about Bastet? You know her?”

Okay so maybe you were still a little dorky.

“The cat lady? I mean you see her everywhere don’t you? In all the nice cat ladies by your flat or in the market!” “Okay fine Mr. Poetic, I’m asking about the goddess,”

He grinned, fiddling with the strap of his bag as you both made your way to a bus stop. “I haven’t met her, no. But I know of her,”

“Right, of course,” You weren’t sure why you humoured this idea; the possibility of divinity walking amongst man. But the ease of pretending, of imagining with him, with Steven, was something you came to realise you enjoyed too much to give up. “What about Zeus?” He frowned. “Wrong civilization,” “Oh come on, so you’re telling me you can believe the idea of gods with bird heads from the times of pyramids, but you can’t humour me with the idea of wackoo’s living on top of a mountain?” “I just don’t like them. Too chaotic,” “That’s exactly why everyone likes them,” “Okay fine, I just stay in my territory,” You shook your head, shrugging your bag back into place on your shoulder. “Okay, that’s fair, they probably don’t like each other anyway,” “Nope, definitely don’t,”

You both fell into a silence after, continuing your walk to the bus stop. “You don’t have to go all the way with me to the bus stop yknow-” You started but he just shook his head. “I don’t mind, love. Really, it’s a nice day out for a walk,” You nodded. “Okay.”

Silence fell again, and you couldn’t help but look up a little to look at him. Him with his pretty eyes and flushed cheeks. Him with his easy going smile on those nice lips. Him with the nice jawline and cheekbones that are just the right amount of sharp you just want to run your finger over it.

By the time the both of you had made it to the bus station, you had made up your mind; You were going to ask him for his number.

Only problem is…how do you ask a cute guy for his number?

You could feel the nerves start to set in as the minutes tick by, and more people pile around the bus stop. It was going to be here soon, and you’ll hop on, and probably never get his number and-

Okay calm down. You fiddled with your bag as the minutes passed, occasional small glances and nervous chuckles with Steven as he waited too, and it felt like the weight of the world was on your shoulders just to ask for a series of stupid numerals. When you glanced back up at Steven for what had to be the millionth time so far, you noticed in the far distance that the bus was heading this way. Steven turns the other way then too, noticing you staring and he sighed softly. “Ah, there’s your bus,” “Yup,” He looked back at you, a soft smile on his lips. He picked at his nails, a feeling of anxiety bubbling inside of him. “So…” “So…” You continued for him, and you both laughed awkwardly. “Can I-” “Can-” You stopped, chuckling awkwardly as Steven shook his head. “Sorry love- didn’t mean to speak over you-” “No no it’s okay! My bad,” You reassured him. “Go ahead,” “No really-” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. “You start,” “Steven-” You started to protest (why were you even doing that) but he set you with a firm look and you sighed. “Okay. I was…yknow…going to ask. If-” You trailed off. “Yknow…” “If…? Unfortunately love, I’m very bad at guessing games. You’ll have to specify,” You sighed, rubbing a hand down my face. You took a deep breath and right as the bus stopped at your station, you blurted quickly, “Can I have your number?!” It came out in one breath, a quick sentence and Steven’s browns furrowed. You panicked, thinking maybe you had read this wrong? What if he doesn’t want to give you his number?

But then his face exploded in a wide smile, and his eyes lit up adorably and his cheeks filled with a soft blush. “Oh. My number!” He laughed, soft and clearly full of anxiety. “Yes- right yes, of course you can. Sorry it took a minute there-” He muttered, quickly digging through his bag and pulling out his phone. “Right then, quick quick before you miss your bus-”

“It’s okay,” You mumbled quickly, steering him away from the growing bus line so you could plug in his number. You did it painfully slowly, double checking each number and going over the series at least 5 times. By the time you finished exaggerating and actually putting the number into your contacts, Steven was tapping his foot anxiously on the ground as he watched the last person board the bus. “You have to hurry it’s going to close, love,” You looked up and glanced at the bus. “Oh crap-” You quickly fumbled to put your phone away and return his, but by the time you took a step towards the bus, it dinged and the door closed as it slowly started back up to drive away. "Shit,” Steven tugged at his curls. “Oh god love, I’m really sorry- maybe if we run we could catch its next stop?” Didn’t people always say make the best out of a bad situation? The bus is gone, another won’t be coming for probably another half hour, and you were not running.

But maybe…maybe this was a good thing?

You shrugged, trying to sound as upset as you could possibly gather, but even to your own ears it sounded fake. “Oh no….the bus is gone. This is horrible. What do I do now?” Steven started to say something, but then stopped, frowning a little, before his eyes widened and a smile grew across his face. “Hang on-” He stepped closer to you, his eyes glittered with humour. “You planned that, didn't you?” You gasped. “What? Me? Why would I ever want to miss my bus?” “Hmm….” He tapped a finger to his chin, thinking loudly. He leaned down then his face barely inches away from your face. “Maybe because you wanted to spend more time with me?” He has no right being cute and nervous one second and then sexy and all mischief the next. Your eyes widened, you felt your skin heat and your cheeks flush pink with how close he was. His eyes looked even prettier up close, and his lips looked so kissable. “Really?” You managed to breathe out. “You think I’m that captivated by you?” He shrugged. “Maybe.” He paused, biting his lower lip.

Fuck.

“Are you? Captivated by me?” He asked. “Hmm. Let’s see…I think your nerdiness and awkward attitude and shy personality has definitely captivated me, Mr. Grant,” His face explodes into a bright and beautiful smile. “Really? So if I asked to go on a walk right now, you’d say yes?” I hum, pretending to think it over. “I think…yes, I would absolutely say yes,” The look on his face made it seem as if he just experienced heaven. Your heart fluttered, and you knew then that you’d never ever get tired of seeing him this happy. “Brilliant. Great, alright then um..” He stood up straight again, looking around. “Let’s go?”

You smiled, gesturing to the roads bustling with people. “Lead the way,”

#moonknight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fluff #steven grant x read #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader fluff #moon knight #steven grant

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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The Gingerbread Competition

Summary: A gingerbread competition gets serious at the Reids

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.1k

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Like many families, the Reids have traditions. They have the normal ones, like the birthday boy or girl gets to pick whatever they want for dinner, but they also have... unique ones.

It would be easy to see the annual gingerbread decorating competition as a normal tradition. It's pretty typical for families to do, but like everything about them, the tradition is odd.

"Which kid are you picking?" Spencer asks, walking into the bedroom to see his wife pulling on a Christmas-themed sweater.

It's only 8 am, but the game has begun. And it's a serious game. It started years ago when they first got together. Spencer felt like he wasn't bringing enough to the relationship with his minimal familiar traditions, so he made her a gingerbread house, just as she was making her own for him.

As naturally competitive people, a contest broke out, and the bragging rights and accolades exponentially increased.

It's Y/n's turn to get the first pick this year, and she's been training the troop of children to ensure she wins, and takes the crown from Spencer. "Morgan." She decides.

It's a quick choice. Outperforming her siblings by age and the smallest number of legos put in her mouth this year, Morgan Reid brings dedication and competitiveness to the table. Plus, she's interested in chemistry like her dad, perfect for a baking challenge.

"Who's your first pick?" She prompts, stepping closer to him so they're toe-to-toe in the middle of the bedroom.

"Toby." He chooses.

As expected. "Oh, I know all about your secrets, Reid." She says, pointing a finger at his chest. "Getting him that bridge building set for his birthday, training up your own gingerbread structural engineer."

Spencer doesn't deny it, knowing he's been caught. "Yes because I know you would pick Morgan, so I figured why not build my own secret weapon?"

She laughs at his description of their sweet five-year-old boy. "I'm taking Eden."

He gasps, recoiling in mock shock. "Ouch. That's low, Reid. Taking my little baby."

"You call them all your little baby." She reminds him, although she knows what he means. In her three Christmases, Eden has been on Spencer's team every time. Even for her first Christmas, at four months old, she was on his team.

"Still, in your attempt to cause me emotional distress, you've left me with Toby and Aspen. Twins. They are unstoppable together. It usually freaks me out when they work out of the same brain, but it's a double threat."

She shakes her head slowly and menacingly. "You know what else they do well together?" He shakes his head. "Argue. Morgan's so good with Eden."

He groans, throwing his head back. "Shit, I knew we split them up for a reason." He recalls. "Can we swap?"

"Do you think this is wrong?" She wonders, clenching her teeth. "Drafting our kids so we can compete?"

Spencer wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her body into his. "No. They don't know, and we don't love any of them more or less."

"Yeah, okay." She acknowledges what he's saying. "Now, let's get out there so I can destroy you."

He chuckles. "And our five-year-old twins."

She grins, moving out of his grip. "You're all going down." She hums happily, gesturing downward with her index fingers. "Prepare to be defeated."

He grabs her hands before she can leave, pulling her body right back to him. "Not yet." He hums, leaning down to kiss her. She deepens the kiss with her tongue sliding into his mouth before pulling away quickly. "Tease." He moans, trying to draw her back in.

"Come on, loser." She says, dragging him out of their bedroom. "It's time for you to lose."

They walk out to the kitchen hand-in-hand, announcing the teams to the four kids sitting around the kitchen island, who are eager to compete and completely unaware they've been drafted by their parents.

Then the baking and decorating starts, complete with trash-talking and heavy flirting between Y/n and Spencer. There's some sabotage, of course, and what Spencer calls chemical warfare because of an intelligent move on Y/n's part to 'accidentally' switch the labels on the red and blue food coloring.

"Okay, are you guys done?" Y/n asks team Nobel- named that because of Spencer's influence, not the twins'- as they put the final details on their houses.

Eden and Morgan made great teammates, and team Winner's gingerbread house is, in their opinion, a winner.

"To win? Yeah." Spencer says, pushing their house forward.

"Okay, sit behind them." Y/n directs the kids into the camera view. They sit on the bar stools with wide smiles as they wait to have their picture taken.

Spencer stands next to her out of the frame. "Smile." He cheers. "Then a silly one."

Both pictures get taken and then sent to the official judge to determine a winner. "Can we eat it now?" Toby asks, smiling hopefully as all four of them watch the gingerbread in awe.

"Hmm, I don't know," Y/n says, looking up at Spencer with mock thoughtfulness. "What do you think?"

"I think yes." He decides, snaking his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

The four of them dive in, breaking the houses down as they grab a piece to eat. "This one's better." Eden determines.

"They're made with the same recipe, little one." Spencer reminds her.

"No, our one's better, daddy." Morgan backs her little sister up.

He pouts behind Y/n as he walks them closer to the countertop, picking some gingerbread up to feed to her. "It's pretty good." She agrees with what Morgan's saying.

"That was ours," Spencer informs her.

Before she can tell him off for tricking her, her phone chimes. "Oh, we have a decision." She says mysteriously, stirring up excitement as she takes her phone out. They wait eagerly for the answer in silence.

Spencer reads the text message over her shoulder: My sweet godchildren! I miss you all so much even though I saw you yesterday. And you know I hate this job since I'm going to upset half of you so please tell everyone that I adore both of the houses the same amount. However, I am slightly leaning toward the one on the left. Have an amazing Christmas, wonderful Reid family xx

"Aunt Penelope says we won!" Y/n tells Morgan and Eden, who cheer happily.

"But she loves both of them," Spencer adds.

They walk around the bench to hug the four of them, each picking up two of their children and embracing in one big family hug. "Go team Reid." Y/n and Spencer say in unison, leaning forward for a quick kiss while they celebrate the perfect moment.

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sotwk · 3 months

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Open Door for the WIP game please!

[Tag List Game]

About: "Open Door"

Oof! This WIP has been sitting in my drafts forever! It started with a trope challenge, and the prompt was "Locked in a Room Together". Originally, it was supposed to be a Legolas x Reader fic, until I realized that dashing Boromir would be the better option for the scenario. :)

It's a "first meeting/chance meeting" situation, set in Rivendell in the month between the Council of Elrond and the Fellowship's departure. It also includes a supporting appearance by two wascally wabbits Hobbits, and this would mark the very first time I'm writing them into a fic! Here is that snippet:

Your Dunedain friend had also reminded you that Hobbits were very quiet in their movements--when they chose to be. Fortunately, the copious amount of wine both Masters Meriadoc and Peregrin consumed at dinner was taking obvious effect. For all the natural speed and energy they retained, you could hear their echoing laughter and babble preceding them as they scampered through the dimly lit passageways, checking every shadowy corner and peering inside every room with an unlocked door. As you paused to catch your breath, you bent over to massage your right ankle, which you had come dangerously close to twisting earlier on a broken pavestone. You perched on the base of a nearby marble statue and yanked off the satin slippers that had pinched your toes as you stood for most of the evening. They slowed you down even worse than your formal dress and for a moment you contemplated running barefoot for the rest of the game. With most of Lord Elrond’s visitors turned in for the night, would anyone be around to witness or care about one woman’s impropriety? After what felt like just a few seconds of rest, you startled at the sound of hissing voices rising from the landing below. “Keep it down, Pip! You’re wheezing like a firework fuse!” “It’s your troll shuffle that’ll give us away! Lift your fat heels, why don’t you!”

No dashing Captain of the White Tower yet, but hopefully this can also make you smile. :) You can probably tell where it's headed.

Whether or not this silly, fluffy one-shot ever gets completed, I honestly don't know. But you know me--I'll keep trying! Especially since it received the most Asks in this round of the WIP Title Game!

Tagging the others who asked: @softboiledwonderland @scyllas-revenge and Anon friend -- thank you so much! :)

#sotwk answers #anon asks #wip title game #wip #sotwk wip #boromir #boromir fanfiction #boromir x reader #meriadoc brandybuck #peregrin took

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sgtmickeyslaughter · 7 months

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65+87 please?

this has been sitting in my drafts for almost a month lol, i hated it when i wrote it but i just stumbled upon it again and realized it was sad to leave it sitting unread even if its not my favorite - so i hope someone enjoys my slightly angsty take on the prompt

65 First Kiss/Date + 87 Unresolved Sexual Tension

If it were anyone else calling Mickey ‘patient’, he’d laugh in their face.

But Ian had brought out much more outlandish qualities in him over the last few months, so it's no surprise that when it comes to him Mickey could find nearly endless patience.

Three months ago, standing in front of Ian with his lungs screaming from the cold air he listened to Ian tell him that yes, this was him breaking up with Mickey.

Mickey looked at Ian for a second. Looked at his pale, shivering form and couldn't find any anger for him. He was fucking heartbroken, and had to turn and look down the street just to take his eyes away.

“Take your meds, Ian” he simply. “Break up with me, sure. I can’t make you love me, I don’t want to. But you have what it takes to get control of this thing, with the meds or therapy or whatever and you’re really, really going to regret it if you don’t just because you were too busy being a mopey asshole to try.”

“Fuck you, Mickey. I’m doing this because I love you, I’m letting you go, you don’t fucking owe me anything.”

Mickey shook his head, indignation finally welling up in his chest. He pushed the gate open harshly and stomped up to stand toe to toe with Ian “you’re doing this for you, because you want it to hurt. You think you deserve it, and you think I deserve it too.”

Ian looked so tired, like he wanted to cry. So Mickey just huffed a sigh, bringing a hand up to his cheek, patting it once before turning to walk away.

“I can’t do it with you watching” Ian said suddenly. “I can't make any promises but if I’m going to try to make it work with the meds and get myself back on track, I need to do it alone.”

Mickey looked back with a huff, he knows that Ian wasn’t trying to be mean, but he couldn’t help but feel like Ian was blaming him. And maybe Mickey was the problem, Fiona and Lip and even little fucking Debbie had told him enough times that Ian needed to be in the hospital.

“But if I can get to a better place, can I come find you?” Ian asked hopefully.

It was like their moods had swapped in a matter of seconds, Mickey just drew his mouth into a tight line, shaking his head slightly. “Let’s not make any promises to each other,” was what he decided on before walking away, back the way he came to crawl back into the den of misplace objects that had taken over his home and get drunk.

The next morning Mickey called over some guys he knew from the moving business that went bust to buy all the suitcase shit and haul it away. He took all the baby stuff Svetlana left behind and shoved it in the attic, working away at a bottle of whiskey as he went.

It was like doing an autopsy to see how fucked up his life had become over the last couple of years. Unearth a condom here, a little baby sock here, Mandy’s blonde hair dye-

Mandy, Mickey realized with a pang of horror. Mandy left and he’d hardly even noticed. He spent the rest of the afternoon calling (almost) everyone Mandy knew and narrowed down where she moved to. He woke up the next day before the sun was completely over the horizon and started driving South East.

Kenyatta might not have seen it in the moment, but he got very lucky that all it took was a bullet in the leg to get Mandy into Mickey’s car.

She got a job at a high end restaurant, as hostess and then quickly moving up to waitress. Mickey started small time dealing again, making just enough cash to cover his meager expenses. They didn’t really hang out for a while, both siblings holed up in their rooms, licking their wounds.

Mandy left him alone until he came home with a busted up face after he missed off the wrong supplier with his big fucking mouth. She hounded him after that, about getting his GED with her, going to community college.

“What are you going to do when dad gets out?” she asked, following him to the kitchen.

“Hope that this stint of fucking guys for a few months liberalized his views on same sex relationships” Mickey snarked back.

“Mickey, come on.”

“Or claim there was a gas leak that made me crazy for dick” he continued sarcastically reaching into the fridge.

“Look Mickey, you’re twenty years old, you have no record as an adult and you should be making an effort to keep it that way unless you want to end up in and out of prison like dad” Mandy said testily, snatching a beer out of his hand.

“What the fuck do you want me to do Mandy?”

“Jesus!” she exploded. “The only thing I’ve ever seen you give a shit about was your stupid fucking boyfriend. You’re worse than me!”

Mickey just stared her down with a brusque fuck you and started walking away.

“He’s getting out in less than a year Mickey,” she warned. “I’m saving up to rent my own place until then, and I suggest you do the same.”

She was right, he knew that and he just wanted to be a pigheaded asshole for a little while longer so he started scrolling through craigslist ads for security until something caught his eye.

He lied through the interview, surprisingly at ease as long as he was able to be pulling a con in some way, even if he was just lying about who he was. He was armed with the knowledge that he’d bribed Linda Karib into saying that he was a valued member of the security staff at her large, upscale market and that Mandy would pick up the phone and follow any lie he’d told them.

“You got a job where?” Mandy asked incredulously, picking up the two suits he’d been given as a uniform from where he’d tossed them on the couch after he was hired.

“The Art Institute” He said around a mouthful of cereal. “You know, the big building on Michigan Ave with the Lions out front.”

“Why the hell did you want to work there?” Mandy asked incredulously.

“It pays more than any other security gig I could get without a GED,” Mickey said. “And it’s like really cool, I’ll be guarding fucking Van Gogh and Michelangelo.”

“Yeah, guarding them from fifth grade class trips,” Mandy teased. “There’s a Michelangelo in Chicago?”

Mickey scowled and sucked his teeth, “you know what I mean.”

Against all odds, Mickey loved his job. He was vigilant enough to keep kids and entitled adults from touching anything they weren’t supposed to, but mostly spent his time rotating with the shift changes, getting exposed to something new and beautiful. Ancient Korean pottery, massive modern canvases, baroque paintings applied to wooden triptychs, and he had a front row seat to all of it.

He had nothing but time to think, he’d start his shift hating the painting across from him, and after a few hours he’d come to understand it, if not like it.

It kept his mind off of Ian, which was important. He’d be reminded of his ex-boyfriend in a particularly golden shade of red, or the odd bright splash of green, but after a while he’d learned to let those thoughts come and then quietly escort them out without any anger or resentment.

In short, four months after Ian broke up with him, Mickey was relatively happy and fulfilled. He had a good relationship with his family (the only member that mattered anyways), a job he liked (well, didn’t totally despise), and modern technology took care of everything else (grindr).

He was getting ready to meet up with a guy from the app when a wrench got thrown into the whole machine. He had showered and gelled his hair, putting on a clean shirt that showed off his arms, he was grabbing his wallet from the kitchen table when he noticed the shock of red hair contrasting with the grey of his living room.

Ian turned around once he’d realized Mickey had come out of his room. Mandy must have let him in, seating him on the couch and leaving him like a sadistic little gift for Mickey to find, the fucking bitch.

Mickey froze, hand outstretched as Ian turned to face him, scrambling up off the couch.

“Hi Mickey,” Ian said breathily, attempting a grin. He looked good, healthy and normal. He looked like the Ian that left Mickey in his room to run off to the army, just a little older.

“Uh” Mickey said, unhelpfully. “What are you doing here?”

Ian surveyed him up and down hesitantly. “Your sister let me in,” he said lamely.

Mickey raised his brows to say not the question I asked, fuckhead.

“Do you want to go get something to eat?” Ian asked nervously.

“I’m not really hungry” Mickey said stupidly, not understanding why Ian was standing in his living room.

Ian deflated slightly “we could get a drink, or just go for a walk or something.”

“What are you getting at, Gallagher?” Mickey asked tiredly.

“I’m trying to ask you on a date” Ian said with a halfhearted smile. “I’ve been on my meds consistently for three months now so I thought-”

“Congrats, Ian that’s really great” Mickey said, bittersweet. “But if you got your shit together because I was gone, I should probably stay away.”

“No!” Ian blurted out. “No, I got better so I could see you again. I wasn’t going to put you through anymore than I already had.”

Mickey didn’t say anything to that, so Ian continued. “I know that I hurt you when I said that I needed to do this alone. But I’ve been working for the past few months to try and become someone I was proud of, so I wouldn’t feel so fucking sick every time you looked at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Mickey tried to calm down. He wanted to yell, he wanted to hug Ian, he wanted to leave and never see him again. But most of all he saw that he was being given the chance to start over, and he wanted to take it.

“Fuck it, yeah, let's go to dinner” he agreed.

“I thought you said you weren’t hungry,” Ian asked curiously, grinning wildly.

“I can always eat,” Mickey said, finally sliding his wallet into his back pocket. “Can we get pancakes?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. Let’s go get some flapjacks” Ian agreed excitedly. “Wait-were you going somewhere?”

“Nah” Mickey dismissed. “Faceless Jonny can murder some other twink tonight.”

Ian laughed. It didn’t have that hyper, nasty quality Mickey had grown to flinch away from.

It seemed like they agreed to set any uneasiness aside for the night so they could sit together and share a stack of pancakes.

He told Ian all about the rescue mission to Indiana, the way Kenyatta charged at him in the living room before he could get his gun out and had to hold his own against the absolute mountain of a man before he managed to get his gun out. He told him about the spring he’d mostly shared with his sister, about the museum.

“You do what?” Ian said, letting out a stalling laugh, nearly choking around a mouthful of bacon.

“Stop laughing, it’s fun and I make good money” Mickey grumbled. “We can’t all be training to save lives.”

“Do you wear the little suit?” Ian asked, ignoring him.

“Do you?” Mickey shot back.

“Not yet but I will,” Ian said proudly.

Ian didn’t share very much about what he’d been doing. Mickey managed to figure out that he was working working at Patsy’s for a while, before he started EMT training, he talked a lot about his family, Debbie getting pregnant and Carl going to juvie, but he had this was of talking around himself that made Mickey realize he probably spent a lot of the last few months pretty miserable.

“So, I mean-this is our first date, right?” Ian asked with a grin, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Yeah, I guess so” Mickey said hesitantly.

“So, tell me stuff I don’t know” Ian said like it was obvious. “You know, siblings, childhood, likes and dislikes.”

Mickey snickered sarcastically leaning back with his arms crossed “number of siblings unknown, childhood was horrific. Likes; guns, redheads, tattoos, dutch renaissance painting, italian futurist sculpture, Bon Jovi, high fructose corn syrup. Dislikes; boston accents, bostson sports teams, men who can’t fight, vegetables that aren’t fried, and any pop song on the top 100.”

Ian grinned wildly, giddy and joyful “That is a very comprehensive run down, A+.”

Mickey chuckled a little, leaning forward and letting out a quick thanks. He turned to Ian and motioned for him to start talking.

“Five siblings. Mixed childhood, mostly good. Likes summer, professional hockey, pop music, thin highlighters, bad boys-hey, don’t kick me!-call of duty, and these days green tea. Dislikes Romantic comedies, football, mood stabilizers, menthol cigarettes, and hoodies without zippers.”

Mickey grinned at his stupid list, and his stupid smiling face. He felt himself getting sucked back into Ian’s magnetic orbit.

“Would you let me take you out again?” Ian asked eagerly. “This was a pretty good first date.”

Reality came crashing down on Mickey again, and he remembered that this wasn’t really their first date, that nothing was normal between them “are you sure you’re ready for-whatever if is you’re trying to get out of this?”

Ian’s face fell, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I’ve spent the last few months trying to get to this point so I could come back to you.”

Mickey leaned forward to make eye contact with him, trying to decide wether or not to trust him. His eyes were wide and anxious but steady. Taking a deep breath and praying that it wasn’t a mistake.

“Yeah, okay. I believe you,” Mickey agreed. “But I’m not doing this again, if we break up again it’s fucking over, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life running around in circles with you.”

Ian nodded enthusiastically “yeah, no, that makes sense. I don't want to do that either.”

He paid the check and they left together, when they got back to Mickey’s house he nodded up at it with a grin, “come in, Mandy won’t be back until later.”

Hesitating slightly, Ian took a deep breath and paused. “So, I’m totally ready to start dating you, totally ready. And I’ll come up to watch a movie or play video games or just hang out, but I don’t to have sex tonight, or for a little while.”

Looking down at his crotch automatically, Mickey pulled a questioning face.

“It works,” Ian supplied with a blush. “It’s back up and running and everything. I just-once I could finally think clearly, I started getting this really uncomfortable feeling like my body isn’t mine, because I didn’t make choices I’m proud of, all the time. I’m still kind of struggling with that so if we can just go out and not fuck for a while that would be great for me, but-”

“Ian chill out. That’s fine, we can hang out.” Mickey said urgently. “You’ll want to eventually though, right? ‘Cause if this is a never again thing we'll need to figure-”

“No! No, definitely not never again, just like give me a couple weeks” Ian amended.

“Yeah, that’s fine. However long you need” Mickey agreed, walking up the stairs, “come on, I’m gonna’ kick your ass at the new grand theft auto just as bad as all the others.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ian groaned and flopped down on Mandy’s purple comforter.

“What’s got you all moody?” Mandy asked, uncapping a bottle of nail polish.

“Your fucking brother won’t get naked for me” Ian whined.

“Ew! Jesus Ian” Mandy shrieked. “Just apologize for whatever he’s pissed about.”

“He’s not pissed,” Ian insisted. “Why would he be pissed?”

“I don’t know, why else would he be holding out on you?”

“On first date after we broke up, I mean-I guess that was our first date period, I told him I wanted to take it slow, at least with sex. After everything I’d done before getting diagnosed I just-didn’t want to jump into a physical relationship right away” Ian explained.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Mandy agreed.

“Yeah but that was almost three months ago and I have been very ready for a while and making it very fucking clear, but every time he shuts me down.”

“Shuts you down how?” She asked noncommittally, carefully painting her big toe.

“The other night we were making out on the couch so I was trying to take his shirt off and he just pulled it down and looked at me like I was trying to fucking deflower him.”

Mandy let out a laugh, moving on to her other foot “have you tried telling him point blank that you wanna’ bang?”

“Kind of, not in so many words but I’ve tried to imply, in a seductive way, that I am really, really beyond ready and that by balls are starting to hurt.”

“You’re just being dramatic,” Mandy dismissed. “Just tell him what you’re telling me, which is what you should have done a week ago.”

“Yeah, I should have just told him. But now it’s like, weird. Like it’s weird that he’s purposely ignoring the like, big neon sign stuck to my forehead that basically screams I’m horny.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” she said disinterestedly.

“He was three months ago,” Ian said, eye brows drawn. “So you think I’ve like, turned him off?”

“I have no idea, Ian!” She exclaimed. “I’ve already talked about my brother’s sex life way more than I wanted to this afternoon, it’s weird that you guys sleep in the same bed every other night but don’t have sex. And if you’re not the one with the problem, maybe he is.”

Ian laid back, deep in thought until Mandy kicked him out so she could get ready to work. Mickey got back an hour later, dressed in his dark suit. It didn’t fit him perfectly, but it made the darkness of his hair and eyelashes stand out even more.

He said hi to Ian quickly before disappearing into his bedroom, unaware of Ian perking up and following him. “Mickey?” He asked curiously through the door. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hold on,” came a muffled reply.

“Can I just come in?” Ian asked impatiently.

He waited a beat, then Mickey came out fully dressed in jeans and a teeshirt “jesus, where’s the fire?”

“Why won’t you have sex with me?” Ian blurted out. “I mean, we both want to, unless I’m reading the signs wrong but the sexual tension feels pretty fuckin’ intense.”

Mickey licked his lips and looked away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Ian asked incredulously. “So you’re going to pretend that I haven't been basically practically jumping you every night for the last few weeks?”

“Whatever, you’re the one who didn’t want to have sex” Mickey shot back defensively. “You haven't said anything else since and I know I can be-y'know a little pushy, so I backed the fuck off.”

Ian moved forward quickly, moving to bring both hands up to Mickey’s cheeks and pulling him close before allowing his hands to travel downward slowly until he could tuck his hands comfortably into the back pockets of his jeans. “I get that it’s been weird not having sex, and I really appreciate you being so considerate, but if it’s alright with you I’d like to to back into your bedroom and suck your dick to say thank you for your extraordinary patience.”

From this close, Ian got to actually feel the affect this words had on his boyfriend and watch as his cheeks flushed and pupils dilated sightly. “Yeah,” Mickey nodded, nonchalant like his voice didn’t pitch up a couple octaves. “Yeah, I mean you can do that, if you want.”

Smiling, Ian ran a hand up his back so that he could lead Mickey back through the doorway by the back of his head, rubbing and rocking it lightly, stomach flipping in excitement.

Believe me - I will be revisiting museum security guard mickey again, taking down heists, helping lost kids, and knowing where all the major pieces are so when wimpy little art students like me come in looking for specific pieces he can give directions -the possibilities are endless.

link to AO3

#gallavich #shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich fanfic #sgt says #prompt game

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crazylittlejester · 6 months

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for a prompt

idk just warriors having pent up stress, the others are teasing him and stuff and he’s having a SHIT TIME and just goes OFF on all of them, and is like “bro shit I’m gonna cry” and he just runs off and has a mental breakdown somewhere (the others give boy plenty of hugs)

this is such a good prompt and i honestly might write another thing with it later. I had this idea half written in my drafts from MONTHS ago, and i’m sorry if its a bit odd or choppy I finished it in the waiting room of an urgent care lmao (the ao3 authors curse came for me) 🕺🕺🕺 BUT HERE YOU GO!! (542 words):

It had been a long couple days for all of them. Emotions were running high, stress was through the roof, but since Twilight’s miraculous recovery, things had been slowly calming down and going back to normal. After having stayed up all of the previous night, Time allowed Warriors to convince him to sleep for a few hours in the morning. The captain had promised to keep an eye on everyone, and with Twilight safely out of the danger zone, Time felt he could finally allow himself to rest. Besides, if anything happened, his brother would come wake him up.

After his short nap, the group had gone into the woods to test Twilight’s strength. He was doing well considering the severity of the wound, but the rancher was a bit disappointed in his lack of strength. Despite everything, everyone was doing well. This was the happiest he’d seen them all in months. Well, everyone except Warriors.

Time felt bad that he hadn’t noticed exactly when the captain had started acting weirdly, but over time they spent at the inn, it was becoming more and more apparent that something was wrong. He was snappier than usual, telling the others off for joking around when normally he would’ve been messing around right there with them, and standing much more rigidly. Gone was his relaxed posture, replaced by the clear physical signs of stress.

Legend and Hyrule teasing Sky for his bad stamina seemed to be the final straw.

“Stop it,” Warriors mumbled, shaking his head violently. Time looked to him in concern.

“Well maybe if you could run just a little bit faster,” Legend jabbed, teasing tone in his voice.

Sky opened his mouth to retort back, but the sound of Warriors’s knees hitting the floor cut him off. Time’s head snapped in the captain’s direction to find him curled in on himself, shaking with his hands over his ears. His head was tucked into his chest, only a few inches away from resting on the floor. Sky and Legend had gone completely silent, the only sound in the room was the captain’s ragged breathing.

“I can’t fucking do it anymore,” he wheezed, and Time carefully knelt down at his brother’s head.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He asked softly, gesturing for the others to back up a little.

“I don’t even know,” Warriors cried, sitting up and looking at Time with wide eyes full of tears. “I don’t… I’ve been awake for too many hours and I… I’m just…?”

“Stressed?” Time suggested, and the captain just nodded, his legs sliding out from under him. He held out his arms and to his surprise, Warriors leaned up against him.

Twilight quickly joined them, wrapping his arms around both Warriors and Time, pressing his chest to the captain’s back. Everyone else quickly followed in as well, surrounding Wars in the middle of a hug pile.

“You deserve a nice long nap,” Wind told him from where he’d somehow squeezed himself right up next to Warriors. “You’ve done a lot for us, you can sleep now.”

“Yeah,” Wild nodded from the back of the group. “Stop worrying about all of us and take care of yourself.”

“We love you,” Sky told him from somewhere in the middle.

#the fanfiction authors curse has bitten me in the ass #but i will continue to whump wars #don’t yall even worry about that #im no quitter #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wars #jes talks #jes ask #jes fic #jes mini fic

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iamthecomet · 1 year

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Hey Com! I always feel awkward asking these so if it feels awkward for you or it’s uncomfortable pls don’t write!🖤🖤

But just a thought about Mountain and Dew cause I don’t see enough of them. Especially Dew taking the reins. But Mountains desperate. REAL desperate. And Dew is being mean and isn’t touching him, say it’s revenge for the time Mountain made him get on his hands and knees like a dog… even though he didn’t mind, but what does he do? He only allows Mounty to a pillow. That’s it:)

This has been sitting in my inbox for *checks calendar* nearly SIX months. I'm sorry it took literally half a year to get to this delicious prompt. I hope it's worth the wait <3 <3.

Dew's room is sweltering. The fire cranked up high to chase off the mid-winter chill. Despite his nakedness, Mountain is sweating. It's beading at his temples, collecting in the hollow of his throat. He isn't sure if he's overheated from Dew's ridiculous temperature choices--or because Dew refuses to let him cum. Mountain lost track of time almost as soon as Dew pulled the curtains, blocking out the bitter draft coming in from the snow-covered grounds. But he knows he's been here a while, an hour or more. Laying, spread out, on Dew's bed as Dew kneels between his thighs and refuses to touch him in any meaningful way. Dew ghosts his fingers over Mountain's hip bones, up the inside of his thighs. He traces his ribs, his sternum, his jaw. He gets close, almost brushing against Mountain's aching cock, his pebbled nipples. He even goes so far as to dip his fingers into Mountain's crack, to run his fingers over Mountain's taint, but doesn't go far enough in any direction to give Mountain even a breath of relief. Mountain would almost rather Dew didn't touch him at all. He knew he'd end up like this--he always does. He isn't like Dew or Swiss who try to pretend they never get desperate, that they can take any treatment and remain steady. Mountain knows how he gets, readily admits it. Knows that a few minutes under the glide of Dew's hands is enough to send him reeling. And while he is known for having far more patience than Dew as a general rule, this is a special circumstance. Dew's body is loose, at ease. He watches his own fingers trail over Mountain's body like he could do it forever. He dips his fingers into the sweat pooling between Mountain's collarbones and smears it down the center of his chest. "Dew," Mountain whispers, fingers twitching at his sides where Dew commanded him to keep them. Dew looks up at his face, brow furrowing almost like he forgot Mountain was here at all. And Mountain knows it's all a facade, but his body reacts like he doesn't. Like Dew really had been so obsessed with the body in front of him he forgot there was a real person attached to it. Mountain's cock twitches against his belly. He wishes he had control of it. That he could pretend that this treatment doesn't make him harder with each passing second. "Hmm?" Dew hums absently. "Yeah? What?"

Mountain doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. He knows as soon as he lets the words loose Dew will deny him. Knows that interrupting has just added even more time to his torture. He does it anyway. Wants it without understanding why. Wants Dew to drag this out until Mountain can't think about anything except Dew and all the ways he could be touched. He shudders beneath the drag of Dew's calloused fingers. Dew flattens his palm over Mountain's belly. Warm, solid. Mountain thinks he wants to touch Dew more than he wants Dew to really touch him. He'd like to wrap his fingers around the ruddy cock between Dew's legs. He'd like to give himself over to Dew's pleasure. Wants to take one of Dew's nipple rings between his teeth and make Dew keen. "Wanna touch you," Mountain finally decides. Easier than asking to be touched--which he knows won't happen. Hopes that maybe Dew's own needs are starting to burn away at his resolve. Dew holds his gaze, copper eyes ringed with icy blue rove over his face. They narrow, darken. Dew pulls his hand away from Mountain's stomach. He leans back on his heels and wraps that hand around his own cock. He squeezes the head, milks a bead of precum up to the tip, and swipes it off with his fingers. Mountain sags in relief, predicting Dew's next movement, expecting those fingers to be pushed in between his lips any second. Instead, Dew sucks them into his own mouth with a lewd groan. Mountain's stomach twists.

Dew pulls his spit-slick fingers from his mouth and repeats the process again before starting to stroke himself. Smearing spit and pre with every slow stroke. Dew reaches up and tweaks at his nipple ring, rolling the hardened bud through his fingers like he can read Mountain's mind and Mountain can't do anything except groan. He tightens his fingers in Dew's sheets, his hips twitch up. Stomach and balls aching as he starts to spiral, to give in to the desperate need to be touched, to cum, for anything. "You haven't earned it," Dew says, watching the way Mountain twitches, the way the muscles in his stomach jump. How he fights to keep his hands where he promised he would as he humps the air mindlessly. Mountain doesn't know what he hasn't earned, touching Dew or being touched. Both, he assumes. "What can I do?" he bites out, breathless. Dew picks up speed, stroking himself in earnest, twisting his hand over the sticky head of his cock with each pass.

Dew laughs then, low and cruel. "Nothing. You can have the same thing you gave me." Mountain racks his addled brain then sags when he remembers. Dew had begged to be collared, leashed, to be led around the Abbey and treated like an afterthought. When Dew had begged for something--anything--Mountain had kicked a throw pillow in his direction and told him if he wanted to get off that bad he'd make it work. Dew had humped himself nearly raw against it before Mountain had deigned to give him any relief. Mountain's brain catches up to what's happening just as Dew is at his side, reaching down to shove a pillow between Mountain's legs. Mountain closes his thigh around it on instinct, holding it in place. He ruts up against it and sobs at the friction. It's nowhere near enough. It's almost as bad as the ghost of Dew's touch. Barely there, too soft, too pliable to really get him anywhere. He fucks up against it again and again anyway, chasing the bare remnants of pleasure. Desperate for any touch, knowing it's not enough but taking it anyway. "What do you say?" Dew prompts. Reaching out with uncharacteristic gentleness to brush a sweaty lock of auburn hair out of Mountain's eye. "Thank you," Mountain whines, high-pitched and desperate enough that he would be embarrassed if he had the brainpower left to care. "Now," Dew says slinging a leg over Mountain to straddle his ribs. Shifting up until the wet head of his cock almost brushes Mountain's lips. "I'm going to paint that pretty face, and you're going to take it. And after that--maybe I'll think about giving you something better to hump."

Mountain grinds up against the pillow again, precum soaking into the fabric with each desperate thrust. He opens his mouth and displays his tongue before Dew even asks for it. Obedient to a fault. Dew huffs out a groan as he does. "Good boy."

#comet writes #ficlet #mo #MountainDew #Mountain Ghoul #Dewdrop Ghoul #Ghost fic #Mountain/Dew #Mountain/Dewdrop #Dewdrop/Mountain #Ghost fan fic #ghost fan fiction #The band ghost fan fiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fan fic #unedited

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lorei-writes · 1 year

Text

In Place of Medicine

Masamune x Reader Fluff

This has been sitting in my drafts for a month now. Posting has been somewhat hard recently, due to vaguely personal reasons...

But to hell with that. @yarnnerdally Hey, here's a little something to cheer you up. Pick it up whenever you feel like it, it may be... thematically relevant :")

Content warnings: none

If the modern day nights can feel safe anywhere in the world, it is merely because they have been tamed. However, the same could never be said of the past, when humans were still mere pawns in the hand of the Sun. The darkness of days long gone by was greedy, ever voracious hunger churning in its guts, pushing it to swallow all – any flicker, any embers… sight. For all things die eventually, including light. Yet the end in the presence of the night is merely a superficial one, a forgery performed to trick the senses and thus, the mind. Nothing less, nothing more. Invisible, things still progress, a breath at a time.

The palm of Masamune’s hand is pleasantly warm, or much rather, hot, his thumb stroking the skin below your navel. It is large, as typical for the man of his size – and so, you are thankful for this simple fact, just the way you are each month. Had it not been for his presence, the futon could have been very well made out of needles. You wouldn’t know any better nor could you even begin to care… But with him there, it is different. It is bearable.

A sharp cramp presses your back firmly into his chest. Masamune hums, his arm pulling you even closer by the waist, his breath caressing the nape of your neck. He does not utter a word, however, his lips pressing to your exposed skin instead, delicate like butterfly wings and nearly apologetic in their care. A searing pin jabs at your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper-groan.

“What for?” Masamune prompts. Clothes rustle along covers as he props himself on his elbow, his touch remaining just where it has been all along.

“For keeping you up. At this rate, you’ll be deathly tired tomorrow…” you trail off, your throat growing tight at the very thought that looms just above your head. “Today…” you correct yourself.

Masamune does not appear pleased with this sentiment. A tiger that is about to pounce on his prey, he quietly lays down, his fingertips – claws that sink into the soft flesh of your underbelly. Anticipation holds your breath captive, your nerves forgetting of pain while waiting for him to act…

His teeth drag your collar open just enough for his lips to caress your shoulder. Soft hair falls over your neck. A kiss descents from soft lips after a kiss, all until he has sufficiently examined the suppleness of your skin and has moved onto sampling your pulse. Masamune lets out a breathy sigh – and so, you are back the way you previously were, your back pressed firmly – firmer – against his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair.

“Don’t even worry about this, kitten,” he murmurs. “Besides, how could I leave you now?”

Tears collect in your eyes. It is hormones. Hormones. Just hormones, you know, but…

“Even if I bleed through the cloth and the yukata again?” the words leave your lips in form of choked down sobs.

“Especially if you bleed through the cloth and the yukata again,” he assures, a chuckle lurking in the shadow of his words.

Your drift off to sleep eventually, lulled by the soothing circles traced by his thumb…

-- Tag list = below the cut --

Tag list: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series

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nahoney22 · 2 years

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Hi there! I know I have already left a request here (so please ignore if it's not allowed) but I took a peek at the angst prompts and just had to request something for my sour patch husband Dogma 💕

How about “i don’t want to bother you. seriously, it’s all just... it’s a lot.” + “it’s okay to cry, you know.”

SFW with a gn reader, and as angsty as your heart wishes. Once again, congratulations on the amazing milestone.

Ps: shrimp check! Watch out for the bad posture 😌

Prompt List Celebration 3000 Followers

Dogma X GN!Reader

word count: 2k

SFW

prompts:

“I don’t want to bother you. Seriously, it’s all just… it’s a lot.”

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Warnings: a little bit angsty, reader provides comfort to Dogma. Mentions of Krell 🔪. Reserved and distant dogma - lone wolf - Gender neutral reader.

Authors note: thank you for the kind words and request! I love Dogma soooo much. And the way my posture snapped well quick lmao @starborncyare

Masterlist

Prompt List - Requests Closed but this is where you can find other works.

Upon your arrival at the outpost, you were struck by the eerie atmosphere and the many uncertainties that hung in the air. Situated on one of the outer rim territories, the outpost was a place where disobedient individuals were sent as punishment. However, work was provided to keep their minds occupied and at bay from the dangers that surrounded them.

You had been stationed here by one of the higher-ups, tasked with monitoring the workload and the people themselves. As you observed the inhabitants, one particular individual caught your inquisitive eye - a man by the name of Dogma.

True to his name, Dogma was considered a dogmatic soul, at least according to his records, which you had the urge to snoop through at one time. You just yearned to know what had brought him to this desolate outpost in the first place and after discovering that he was sent here because he had killed the traitorous Pong Krell, you couldn't help but feel pity for him.

Dogma was a quiet and reserved individual, often eating alone and seemingly enjoying his own company. However, you felt compelled to change that.

You started off by giving him the odd smile when you passed by him, only to receive a blank stare of confusion but the more you did it, the more there was a faint subtle one given in return. It only took two months. Then, you went ahead and started to sit by him when grub was being served. You would sit at the end of his long table and until he told you to go away, you didn't shift. Of course your cohorts were confused as to why you were dedicating your time to this man but to you, it seemed a little bit worth it.

Your first attempt at a conversation with Dogma however didn't go quite as planned. When you greeted him with a polite hello, he responded with a deep frown and an accusing tone. "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" he asked, suspicious of your intentions. You were taken aback by his abruptness, but you tried to defuse the situation.

You raised your hands in slight defence and offered him a careful smile. "I'm not doing anything. I am just sitting here, eating this rubbish and trying to get a small conversation going. I... I see you by yourself quite often and I thought you could do with a friend?"

Your words seemed to strike a chord with Dogma, who stood up abruptly, scraping his chair across the floor with a bone-chilling noise. "Has it occurred to you that I like my own company?" he retorted before stalking off, leaving you feeling a little deflated. You knew better than to push the matter any further, so you decided to give him some space and let him come to you on his own terms.

—--------

After approximately a week or two had elapsed - though time seemed somewhat blurry at times - you had recently concluded drafting a report to dispatch back to the GAR following an evaluation of the productivity and attitude of the workforce. Leaning back into your chair with a deep sigh, you ran your hands over your face in an attempt to dispel the discomfort brought about by the light from the glaring holoscreen that you had just been staring at, subsequently turning off the lamp on your desk. Exhausted, your bed, if you could even call it a bed, was beckoning you.

Until you heard something emanating from down the corridor.

Halting your movements, you surveyed your surroundings, failing to spot any apparent dangers. However, as you proceeded cautiously, the sounds of sniffling and choked whimpering grew louder and louder. Panic gripped you, as you thought someone had been injured so as you hurried over but you froze upon seeing him.

"Dogma?" you spoke his name quietly but loudly enough for him to lift his head from his hands, glaring at you with heartbreakingly glossy eyes. Reacting quickly, he stood up from the floor and turned his back to you, wiping away his tears in an aggressive manner.

"You saw nothing," he ordered you, his tone bordering on a threat. However, you did not take it to heart, instead feeling more curious about the reason behind his tears.

"What's wrong? Are you injured?"

"Why do you care?" he snapped at you again, this time regarding you over his shoulder with what seemed like disdain. "Why do you appear wherever I go? Why are you being kind to me?"

You stood there, dumbfounded, but gradually began to feel a flicker of anger rising within you. "It is my responsibility to care, and as one of your leaders, it is my duty to ensure that all workers are safe. Therefore, I will ask again and I expect an answer, are you injured?"

This time, Dogma was surprised by your tone, but his face remained fixed in a glare. "No... I'm not injured."

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, and a small sigh escaped your lips as you leaned against the wall, moving a little closer to him. "Well, can you tell me what is the matter, then?"

"It's nothing," he muttered.

"It doesn't seem like nothing to me," you pressed, only to receive a grunt in response. However, he eventually turned to face you fully and kicked his boot into the ground.

Dogma had never before encountered anyone who cared for him in this way, and even though he would not admit it to himself, a pang of guilt coursed through him for snapping at you when you had greeted him earlier. It was the first time anyone had shown him a hint of kindness, and he had dismissed it. The memory lingered with him for a while.

"I apologise for my behaviour towards you the other week. I was..." he grimaced at himself, not realising what he was saying until he spoke, "I wasn't in the best of moods."

You nod slowly, your understanding of Dogma evident. "It's not uncommon to encounter difficult people here," you remark with a light chuckle, folding your arms over your chest. "I've dealt with them before." You pause, then ask, "What's bothering you tonight. though?"

The clone hesitates before answering, looking around the dimly lit corridor. But knowing that everyone is asleep, he feels he has nothing to lose. "I don't want to bother you. Seriously... It's just a lot," he says with reluctance.

"Is it the workload? I can easily delegate some tasks to others if you need some time," you offer.

"No," he snaps, but his tone holds no ill intention. "It's not the workload."

You wait patiently for him to continue.

"I miss my brothers," he sighs, moving to lean against the wall beside you. His head tilts downwards as a wave of sadness crosses his face. "I know they don't miss me. Heck, not a lot of them even liked me," he mutters with a tone of regret. "I thought I was doing the right thing, following orders from a Jedi. But I was wrong. So," he sniffles, his lower lip quivering, but he doesn't want you to see, "so wrong."

You nod in understanding as Dogma opens up about his feelings. The weight of his troubled mind is clear, and his stoic expression has given way to utter despair. As he wipes away a tear before it falls, he continues to speak, "After being banished here, I realised how lonely I truly am. I may have felt lonely before, but this is something else entirely."

Your heart aches for him as you realise that despite his stern personality, he is struggling internally. You stand there in silence, observing his turmoil, feeling empathy for the troubled clone. It's not the first time you've felt this way towards the workers here, aside from a select few.

You finally break the silence with a gentle voice, "If you're feeling lonely, why did you push me away?" Dogma shrugs quietly. "I don't know. Fear, maybe? Embarrassment?"

You raise an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of humour, "Embarrassed to be seen with me, Trooper?"

As you observe the clone's sudden jolt of nervousness, you can't help but feel a sense of amusement at his sudden loss of composure. But you maintain a gentle demeanor, allowing him to gather himself before continuing the conversation.

"O-of course not," he stammers, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "You seem really..." he trails off, searching for the right word to describe you.

As you wait patiently for him to find the right words, he rakes his mind and feels himself biting on the inside of his cheek. Sweet? Nice? There seemed to be many words but few that he would use to describe himself.

"I seem, what?" you prompt him, bringing him back to the present moment.

He jolts a little, standing a little straighter as he gathers his thoughts. "Nice," he finally says with a nod. "You seem nice."

You can't help but smile at his compliment, feeling a sense of satisfaction that your kind demeanour has been recognised. "Thank you," you reply, genuinely touched by his words. "You seem pretty nice yourself."

A small chuckle escapes from Dogma's lips, and he rubs the back of his head, unsure if he's nervous or feeling relaxed. You observe his subtle change in demeanour and take a moment to appreciate the tattoo on his face. It's interesting and striking, but not quite as striking as his eyes. Despite being filled with unshed tears, they gleam brightly in the dim lighting.

Breaking free from your brief entrancement, you speak up swiftly, "Anyway, I want you to know that if you're struggling and feeling low, my office is just down the hall." You make a vague gesture with your hand, indicating the direction of your office.

"I know things seem difficult, but I'm certain that with enough support, you'll pull through. I mean that," you say with complete sincerity, your voice imbued with warmth and compassion. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for not following the rules.” You raise a brow at him this time, a little confused and judging by your reaction, he clears it up. “Isn’t leaving the barracks at this time against protocol?”

“Oh, yes but I think I can let it slide this time.” You hum in amusement but pause when you see him swipe an escaped tear, a sad smile planting on your lips. “It’s okay to cry, y’know?" you whispered softly. "You don’t need to wipe them away in front of me.”

Your words stilled him and he felt himself grow a little self conscious that so much of his vulnerability had slipped. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Crying and appearing weak.”

“Dogma,” you say his name sternly before he could even get the chance to look away from you, “you’re not weak for showing emotion. You’re human and as long as blood runs through your veins, let your tears fall if you need them to.”

“I…” he derailed his words and sighs in acceptance, maybe the first glimmer of it in a long time. “Thank you.”

It’s a bold move but was not exactly against the rules but you stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around in a quick embrace, hugging him only to feel him stiffen under the foreign feeling. Dogma felt a wave of emotions wash over him. He had never experienced anything like this before, and it was overwhelming. Even for a moment, his stoic demeanour faltered, and he let himself be vulnerable.

His arms slowly wrap around you and he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and let his eyes fall close. Maybe, things will start to look up for him from then on. Maybe, he could even have a bond with someone.

masterlist

prompt list - requests are closed but here is where you can read some of my other prompt works

#tcw dogma x reader #dogma x you #dogma x reader #clone wars dogma #clone trooper dogma #ct dogma x you #nahoney22 writes

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sxtvrns · 1 year

Text

unspoken

🎶 now playing: hi - laufey

P: Ryōhei Arisu x Fem!Reader

S: You couldn’t leave the poor man laying on the street. He couldn’t help falling for the girl who was always by his side.

W: aib spoilers, cursing, alludes to sexual content, beach arc, arisu a bit ooc (downbad), mentions of death, violence

N: Y/N is your first name, L/N is your last name. this has been sitting in my drafts for too long also i havent even finished the series yet i left off on s2 ep5 but i practically know the rest of the plot cuz i got fuckin spoiled… i started this like months ago now im just trying to make sense of the plot anyways hot emo gamer nerd man woopwoop sexy ahh mf i love kento yamazaki

please interact if you enjoy!

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Yuzu walks beside you with the rabbit she just hunted in a plastic bag, a confident strut in her step. “We should get your clothes washed. Then again, I don’t know if you have any other clothes to wear.” She says, noticing the stains and dirt on your attire from previous games. You point to a shopping mall down the street you just walked.

She sighs. “I guess you could loot the place. Then we can wash your clothes.” You begin to get excited until she puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll go by yourself, though. You know the way back by heart.” You freeze up, complying with her terms considering that she was right. It wasn’t like you needed someone to nanny you 24/7, you were just scared of the thought that something could happen while Yuzu didn’t know.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. You’re strong and have the ears of a bat.” She pats your shoulder, the compliment you found strange but accepted anyways. You notice a lump of clothes and a hand on the street, noticing it’s another person after approaching closer.

You jog over to them, sitting on your knees in order to get a good look at the stranger’s face. You move his hand, his arm ending up on your legs. You end up nearly laying down with him while trying to get your head lined up with his, your fingers moving his hair out of the way to see his face more clearly.

His face and hands are tainted and covered in dirt and dust, including his clothes and shoes. His eyes are half open, yet they fully notice you when Yuzu calls your name. “Y/N! What are you doing?” She begins to walk over, prompting you to turn back to the man. You stutter out a few words when you realize he notices you there. “…you… okay?”

He’s alive, that’s for sure. You can hear his soft breathing, and his arm tensed up. “I wanna die here.” He softly speaks, the sudden request surprising you before you can say anything. Yuzu catches up, standing behind you, her shadow looming over the man. She watches you play with the man’s fingers, observing the cuts and dirt in the crevices of the skin and under his nails.

“Is he alive?” She asks. You nod, wondering what to do. You don’t want to leave him there, but you knew that Yuzu wouldn’t just let someone into your bunker unless she was the one to bring them in. This guy seemed different, though. What had he gone through in order for him to want to starve himself on the street? “We have to go. It’s gonna get dark soon.”

You let the man’s hand rest on the ground as you get up, looking behind you occasionally to see his figure slowly turn into a small speck the further you walk away. “Why’d you stop for him? You wouldn’t do that for anyone else.” She was right, but you didn’t know if she’d believe your answer. “He feels guilty.” Those were the words you were looking for.

“Even so, wouldn’t anyone be full of guilt to lay on the road like that?”

You point at him. “Wants to die.”

Yuzu just nods as her head slowly turns to face the road in front of her.

“Fine then. We’ll just leave him.” You want to protest, but can’t seem to say anything. To Yuzu, you just can’t get the words out at all. She was so strong; her presence alone intimidated you. You always watched yourself around her, considering that you had to learn from her and you didn’t want to humiliate yourself.

You’ve always had a hard time talking to people. Was it the fact you were bullied for merely speaking, raising a hand up to answer in class, to have a normal conversation with anyone? Yes. Slowly, day after day, you stopped talking. No one noticed, anyways, so it didn’t matter. You’ve been to therapy for it, but when you tried to talk, it was hard to put how you felt into words.

The sentences formed, but you couldn’t say anything out loud.

You usually spoke in smaller sentences, nothing detailed but enough for others to understand, which wasn’t useful living in a world where detail is key. If you were given the chance, you’d simply point and finish your sentence from there. Yuzu’s trying to help you through it, but she states that going out to get paper is a waste of time. She’s smart enough to put the pieces together through your phrases, figuring out why you rarely spoke.

“You’ll go out tomorrow. We’re running low on fuel for the gas stove and we need batteries. You can get anything else you need while you’re there.” She says, not really giving you much of a choice. It’ll be fine, right? Low chance of you ever running into someone while you’re… alone.

You point to your shirt with small stains on it. “New clothes.” Yuzu also looks at your shirt, sighing. “You can get new clothes, too. Speaking of which, can you also get soap?” You try to visualize what it would look like to carry all those things in your hands. “Too much. I’ll drop it.” You say, holding your arms out in front of you. “I can get you a bag.”

You hated how fragile plastic bags were, how easily they’d tear and rip, especially the handles. If something was too heavy, the pressure would go onto your fingers, and it hurts more than it looks. You shake your head no, trailing behind Yuzu. “Geez, you’re so stubborn. Might as well get a reusable bag while you’re at it.”

The list of things never ends.

“I can do… two trips.” You hold up two fingers, your friend letting out a huff. “If that’s alright with you, I suppose. Our visas are still good for a few more days, then we’ll have to play another game. So be careful tomorrow; don’t get hurt.” Yuzu warns. You nod profusely, her patting your back.

The first trip there you’d gotten the gas and batteries and a few extra flashlights just in case, snagging a reusable bag to make the trip easier. You always snagged reusable bags, but for some reason they always went missing more often than Yuzu’s plastic ones.

On the way back, when you didn’t stare at the sky or the garbage on the street, you noticed the guy still laying on the street in nearly the exact same position. You walked over carefully, kneeling down again and moving his hair out of his face. He was still breathing, but was sleeping soundly on the cement. The air that exhaled through his nose brushed against your arm, startling you a bit, but you stopped yourself from nearly flinching too hard and waking him up.

That day, you left him be.

The next day, it rained.

Your bag had a zipper, so thank god that your new clothes didn’t get soaked that day. Even with your umbrella, the wind would’ve blown the rain onto your shirts and bottoms. You nearly ran home, until the sight of the same man still laying on the street in the pouring rain stops you. It could just be the horrible conditions, or the thought of his clothes getting drenched bothering you so much, but you run over and hold the umbrella above both your heads.

Your first thought was to carry him bridal style, but then you’d have to ditch the umbrella, which you obviously weren’t gonna do. Instead, you tap his shoulder, and when he doesn’t respond, you tap his cheek. He blinks a few times, and that’s all you need to help him up and support him with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. He still slouches, head down, but as long as he didn’t fall asleep on the way there, he’d be fine.

You slide open the warehouse curtain, Yuzu gawking at the sight of you supporting another person. “Close it.” You tell her. She gets up and runs past you, you remembering you had to climb a ladder to get up. Yuzu climbs up, helping you carry him to the elevated surface, letting you set the man down on your old cardboard bed. You take off his jacket, setting it aside while you take your shirt off and dry him as best you can with it. Even while you’re doing this, he doesn’t seem to wake up. His eyes remain half open the entire time until he’s fully laid down, them closing shut.

You zip up your outer jacket, being met with Yuzu looming over you. You begin to open the bag with excitement before she drags you to the opposite side of the site. “What were you thinking? Bringing him here?”

“3 days. He slept on the street for 3 days.”

“Okay, but still. You need to be careful.”

“He was giving up. I didn’t like that.”

“So what if you didn’t like that? If he wants to die, he’ll die.”

“I’ve seen death before. He will regret it.” Your words come together slowly, yet you still feel frustrated as you couldn’t say it how you wanted to. “You’ve been like him before. You should understand.” You add, walking back to the unconscious man. You lay down beside him, staring at his face.

He’s ridden with dirt and dust, and he smelled of it too, with a hint of blood and the tiniest smidge of something botanical. His clothes were soaked and they were soaking the cardboard beneath him. There was probably still some lying around this place anyways.

The first time you saw him on the street, he looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Now that he’s in your base, giving you the ability to stare at him for the next 10 minutes, you realize that this was the man that saved you in his first game that he played.

Yuzu looks at you, laying on the bare concrete ground after you sacrificed your former makeshift cardboard mattress for the stranger that laid next to you. “Y/N.” You don’t move, laying still beside the man. She sees your fingers brush his hair out of his eyes, his face fully visible. “I’m sorry. Come help with dinner.” You shift, then finally get up and join her, looming over her workspace and watching her prepare rice.

“I got an extra knife for you.” She hands you a smaller knife and a cutting board, along with some vegetables that looked like they were just washed. You place them down on the cutting board, frozen and lost in space. “You don’t want him to starve, do you?” Yuzu speaks up, snapping you out of it as you begin to help.

“You were right.” She says, the lack of context clues only making you confused. “I was like him. I did nothing. I felt like dying. But I’m here now.” She suddenly stops what she’s doing, looking at you. “I’m sorry. You did something good, but I still don’t trust him.” You nod.

You understood why she was skeptical of him. Something in you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him behind.

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“Are you really just gonna stay with him until he wakes up?”

You sat down by the man a while ago, noticing he turned and laid face up while you were making food with Yuzu. She’s currently eating at your one-person makeshift table, staring at you from there. You shrug, eating from your own smaller canister. The bowls you found came in packs of four, which was convenient if he was going to wake up and eat.

It’s nothing but the light of the lamp on the desk and the skylight above that helps you see throughout your small living space. Yuzu is about to finish her food while you sit by the stranger, getting up to put your bowl away after finishing your food.

“He’s awake.” Yuzu says, your eyes shifting to the sight of him blinking. You get a clean spoon and cup and scoop a serving into the bowl you used, pouring water into the cup. His eyes meet yours, freezing you in place for a moment before you remembered who the food in your hands was for. You set the bowl and cup down next to him before sitting down by him again. His eyes follow you the entire time.

“Why did you save me?” He asks. You say nothing but stare at him, his eyes focused on the ceiling now. “You want to live.” You reply. He merely scoffs with a sigh. “But I don’t deserve to live anymore.” Your heart aches as he begins to cry, but as he speaks, you realize you’ve been in his shoes before.

“We know how you feel.” You say, your hand tucking his hair behind his ear. “How you feel… we have felt it before.” You look over at Yuzu, and she smiles with a nod, meaning you’ve explained it better. “I saw my mom die while I lived. After that, I tried to die. I saw death for a second, but survived. Death isn’t pretty. It is darkness. It is nothing.” Yuzu stares at you with wide eyes as you try to speak. Your hand trembles and pauses while your fingers brush through his hair. “Your friends want you to live, so live. You will die sometime; a game, your visa, but don’t force it. For now, eat while you are still alive.”

He stares at you, who sits in front of him with her fingers brushing his hair. He simply lays there, staring at the bowl of food. “Y/N, just let him be. He’ll eat it when he needs to.” Yuzu says, your hand reluctantly moving away from his head. You turn off the lights before joining her in the tent, laying next to her. Meanwhile, the man lays on the cardboard, exhausted, but wondering what you meant by all that and why you played with his hair.

He distinctly remembers you, getting on your knees to check him on the road. You carried him when taking him to the warehouse, and he could’ve sworn he’s seen you in a game before. What did you mean when you said that you’ve seen death? Did you reincarnate or something?

He was too tired to think about it.

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You wake up, Yuzu not beside you and light shining through the fabric of the tent, meaning she’d gotten up earlier than you to warm up. You had less of an athletic prowess than Yuzu did, so you normally stayed behind whenever she went for her morning jog.

Leaving the tent, you first notice the empty bowl that held only a seed by the man’s head. With the sunlight shining bright through the windows, you wonder if he is awake or not. “Wake up. We’re playing today.” You say, the man lying still, nearly convincing you he was still asleep. You fill up a water bottle, waiting for him to respond but getting nothing. “Do you remember the one game?” You ask, knowing he won’t respond.

“Live or Die.” The name brings back painful memories of his friends, one of them coming out with a burnt leg. “You saved me there. I would have… died at the one door.”

“One door?”

“The door after the girl died.”

“The second one?” That’s the word you were looking for. You nod. “I didn’t wanna die then. I didn’t want anyone to end up like the high schooler.” He adds. You sit down in the same spot again. You take one of his hands, holding it, your fingers gently playing with his palm. “You saved Yuzu. She would not be alive if you did not scream.”

“Were you there?” He asks. You shake your head. “She told me.” You respond with a sigh. “I… don’t want you to die. Let us save you.” You loosen your grip nearly to the point where you let go of his hand. He slowly but surely sits up, back against the boxes. He takes a good look at you, your hair tucked behind your ears and eyes moving like they’re looking for something.

“Why do you talk like that?” His full stare intimidates you, given this is the first time you’ve ever seen his eyes when they aren’t closed or covered by his hair. You tilt your head, confused. “Your sentences seem… broken.”

You play with your fingers, staring at his hand and wish you were playing with it. “It is hard for me to talk. I was laughed at. Words are in my head… but they don’t come out.” You summarize, hoping he’d understand. He nods slightly, noticing your friend come back from who knows where. She tosses something up before climbing the ladder. “I got a tent for him. But no mattress yet. How long have you been awake? Did you stretch yet?”

You shake your head, noticing Yuzu’s eyes drifting over to the man. “Come with us?” You ask, holding your hand out for him to take. He accepts, being pulled up onto his feet. “Okay?” You check in while he nods. You offer him some water, nearly finishing your whole bottle. You take him by the wrist, descending down the ladder and pulling him with you to the gate.

“Let’s go.”

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Your fingers hold onto the sleeve of the man’s jacket gently as you walk into the highway tunnel. In his first game, he never introduced himself to you, and you never saw his name on his phone screen, though you remembered his friends constantly screaming his name after each door. He later introduced himself as ‘Arisu’, Yuzu seeming to know his name already before you did.

The walk is long to the registration, Yuzu sighting a bus heavily graffitied a bit in. Your hand grips onto his arm, Arisu noticing. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Nervous. Always nervous… for new games.” You explain, hoping he’d understand.

You had a bad habit of holding onto people before entering registration. Before you met Yuzu, everyone you accidentally latched onto cursed at you, or shook you off their arm, which was understandable. No one likes a stranger randomly holding onto their arm out of nowhere. You just hated the fact it was your first instinct. When Yuzu came along, she was the first person to listen—to understand.

But Arisu was content with it. He didn’t swat you off, or stare at you weirdly. He simply let you be, holding onto his arm like a koala hugging a branch. You worried that your grip was too tight or that he could feel you shake, but he didn’t seem to react, so those worries went away eventually. You clung onto him the moment you stepped into the bus, taking one of the phones before noticing there were three other guys seated in the back.

They’ve played their last few games together, however, one of them was visibly injured. In a world like this, injury holds you back from everything, which puts you at risk of death. You felt sympathy for the man, but also felt intimidated by him and his friends given that they were staring at the three of you intently.

Arisu picks up his phone, looking at the names of the participants, landing on yours.

L/N Y/N

“Ryō…hei?” You stutter, looking at your phone. Arisu looks down at you, a bit confused. “Y/N calls people by their first name. Sometimes.” Yuzu explains, which cleared some things up, but it didn’t help a whole bunch. “Can I call you that?” You ask. “Can you call me Ryō?” He restates your question, being followed by an eager nod from you. He simply shrugs and nods, and you’re glad he doesn’t mind.

One of the men huffs. “Your girlfriend?” He gestures to you, making you let go of Ryō’s sleeve and hide behind him. He shakes his head. “We just met today. Yesterday. A previous game.” His idiocy makes Yuzu shake her head while you try to hold in your laughs from behind. However, the man doesn’t seem all too convinced. “Whatever you say.”

The phone chime sounds, the robotic voice drawing attention to them.

Registration is now closed. The game is about to commence.

Difficulty: Four of Clubs

This was a team game. Your favourite kind.

There are a total of six participants.

Game: Distance

Rule: Endure the trial while striving for the goal within the time limit.

Clear condition: Safely attain the goal.

The game will now commence. 120 minutes remaining.

You look out the driver’s window, the tunnel seeming like it goes on forever. Your eyes are drawn to the dashboard of the bus, specifically the fuel. “It’s empty. Can’t drive.” You say. “Looks like we’ll have to run.” Yuzu says, Ryō’s eyes landing on the injured man in the back. “What about Takuma?”

You’re lost in thought for a moment, not wanting to die but also not wanting to leave the man behind. “All of you, run. I’ll stay with Takuma.” Yuzu and Ryō look at you as if you’ve said something stupid. “What? Y/N, we have to run.”

“We will try to do something. If I die, I die. I am okay with that. I don’t want to leave ‘Kuma alone. I will take care of him.” Yuzu suddenly hugs you, which catches you off guard. She pulls away, her face with a trace of disdain as she walks off, along with the two men that sat in the back. Before Ryō can leave, you grab his hand. Your thumbs rest in his palm before you warn him. “Don’t worry. We will be okay. You have to be careful.” He squeezes your hand, visibly doubtful as he walks off the bus to join the other three outside.

You watch from the window as they all run off, seemingly shrinking as they get farther away. You sit in the back, closer to the man. “Kuma? Is that your name for me?” He asks lazily, relaxing against his seat. “Yeah. Sorry.” You suddenly become timid at the sound of him laughing. “Don’t be. It’s cute.”

“Are you… giving up?” You ask, wondering how he’s so unfazed. “I am still worried. But even though we aren’t running, I feel as though we’ve already won.” He looks up at you and your solemn face. “We can’t do anything about it now, can we? I know you wanted to help me, but is there really anything we can do?”

“I don’t want to die. I know you don’t either. But I’m injured, and the only thing that can heal that is time. There isn’t enough time in this game to go away. So I understand what you’re saying. If we die, we die.” He waits for you to say something, looking at you when you stay silent. “What’s on your mind?”

“The… difficulty… is low. Why are they running so far? It shouldn’t be that far if it is only Four of Clubs.”

Kuma puts together what you’re trying to say, the look of realization on his face. “You’re right. But then, where is the goal?” You notice the graffiti reaching the bottoms of the windows, remembering how the bus was covered in it. You get up, leaving the bus, fingers brushing against the outside walls. There was nothing but casual graffiti gibberish that you never understood on the side with the door.

The other side, however, had a word written big and in blue.

GOAL

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Usagi’s water bottle empties after she offers it to the three men, who finish it in a heartbeat. She’s stopped by Arisu, who held onto her shoulder for a brief moment to get her attention. “Your friend… she confuses me. Why does she do these things?” Usagi’s automatically suspicious of Arisu, viewing his question as an insult. “What do you mean?”

“She’s very physical with my hair, my arm, my hands. No one does that to someone they just meet.” Usagi scoffs. “She cares. She’s worried about you. She’s worried about everyone. That’s why she offered to stay back with Takuma. When she held you back in the bus, she was worried about you, knowing that you’re still grieving. Y/N is a physical person in general, violent or affectionate. The only reason she kept going with it is because you hadn’t pushed her away. If you want her to stop, tell her.”

He didn’t want you to stop. Not really want, but more like he didn’t mind the gesture. He wasn’t bothered by it; really, he enjoyed it in the moment. It was comforting— something he hadn’t felt ever since his first game. Usagi laughs. “You should’ve seen her during a team game. She annihilated everybody, then went back to being all shy at the end.”

Arisu tries to imagine it, the thought of you killing people you didn’t know in order to survive. The more he tried, the more he wanted to push the thought out of his mind. The girl that gets clingy and nervous before games, the girl who convinced him to live, taking the lives of total strangers without hesitation? Honestly, he didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it.

He realizes that Usagi’s already began running from the trial, forcing himself to catch up with her, along with the other two men.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’re pacing frantically down the walkway of the bus, forgetting that Kuma was sitting at the end of it. “L/N, what’s wrong?” His voice stops you, remembering you hadn’t told him yet. You looked like an idiot panicking over a reason he didn’t know. “The goal. We already won.”

“What?”

“They should have stayed. This is the goal. We are safe, they are not.” Kuma looks at you in disbelief, eyes wide. “Really? So… we’d survive?” You nod, looking at the graffiti on the window. “We have to do something! They’ve all ran and they need to get back here.”

You sigh, overwhelmed with emptiness. “We can’t.” You want to cry, but the tears aren’t there to flow. “What? What do you mean, we can’t?”

“They are too far. I can’t get them. Not enough time.” You say, sitting down next to him. His face is ridden with tears; he’s been crying all this time and you hadn’t noticed. You hug him, patting his head. You’re sure he’s confused as to why you’re doing this, but really it’s because you wish someone would comfort you the same way.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps, your head lifting up. “What happened?” Kuma sniffles. You get up, running to the door. “Someone is here.” You answer, him looking out the window. You step out of the bus, seeing someone running with a motorbike towards the bus. “L/N!” He calls, his messy, disheveled hair coming into a better view.

“Ryō!” You call, looking at the window where Kuma is looking out of, seeing that he noticed the bike too. Ryō runs over with the bike, both him and the hunk of metal leaning against the bus. You hug him, feeling a sense of relief that he would also survive. But then again, what about Yuzu?

“The bike,” he pants, “can fuel the bus. There’s diesel in here to fill the bus. We can drive and get Usagi and Yamane back.” You look at the bike, inspecting the shiny metal and the tank, hearing fuel sloshing around inside. You didn’t understand much about motorbikes or vehicles in general, but given that Ryō ran all the way back here with the bike convinced you that he knew what he was doing.

You explained everything to him, seeing the drive in his eyes to get Yamane and Usagi back grow in his gaze. Ryō stood behind you, Kuma in the driver’s seat. The voice on your phone reminds you, 5 minutes left. You hear a loud rumbling, telling Kuma to step on the gas. Tell is an understatement– you screamed at him.

He roughly avoided the cars on the highway street, ramming through the darker section where you see a body lay on the ground next to an animal you can’t define. As Kuma continues driving, you open the door, holding onto the bars and peeking your head out the window. You hear faint panting from a distance, the rumbling getting louder.

The sight of Yuzu running for her life from a flood of water chasing after her comes into view. You hold out your hand, screaming her name. Kuma’s foot slams on the pedal, speeding towards her. The water barely touches Yuzu’s heels as you grab her hand, pulling her into the bus and closing the door before the water could flood in.

And for a few moments, it’s dark.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A drop of water falls on your face. Then another, then another. You think of getting up, until you noticed you were resting on Ryō’s chest.

Thank god you survived, but what is life if you woke up in the most awkward situation ever?

Yuzu laid next to you, and Kuma stayed in his own little area in the driver’s corner. You shake Yuzu, forcing her awake along with Ryō. He then proceeds to wake up Kuma, opening the door above all of you since he was the tallest one there. He struggles, but manages to climb out first, Yuzu following, then you, then all three of you making an effort to pull Kuma out of the door.

“The bus is the goal. There was no point in running.” All of you stare down at the word ‘GOAL’, painted in bright blue on the side of the bus you were standing on. Yuzu jumps down first, followed by you, Ryō, then Kuma. Ryō’s hand still clasps onto yours even after he helped you jumped down, bidding Kuma a regretful goodbye in hopes of seeing him again somehow.

Trying to be completely realistic, you’d probably never see him again, and that alone made it more sad.

He doesn’t seem to notice that he’s holding your hand, squeezing it every once in a while, specifically when you see him noticeably about to cry. “Y/N, let go of him. Unless you asked first.” Yuzu notices, making you embarrassed and pull your hand away. “I actually did it first. Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t notice. L/N. I meant L/N.” Ryō apologizes, but you shake your head, assuring him that it was okay.

Deep inside, you wished he didn’t let go.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yuzu had gone out for the next few days— sometimes you tagged along with her if you woke up early enough that she’d already left. You both had gotten intel on something called The Beach, and were planning to pack up and leave eventually to scour. She’s been going out to gather supplies for hunting and for shelter, including refills of water.

When you woke up to see Yuzu wasn’t laying next to you, you found solace with Ryō. He continued to talk about his friends, how they’d gotten here and how he witnessed them sacrifice themselves just for him to survive, knowing that they’d have to pick someone to live. He never understood why, and that is what he explained to you.

The entire time, your head rested on this shoulder, your hand playing with his own. “There are gaps in your heart you that cannot fill. That is what I’ve learned in this world.” You pause, piecing together a sentence in your head. “There is no time for grief. There is no time for anything.” You rest your hand on top of his with a sigh. “Do not let grief affect your need to win in games. You must focus, or you will break the last promise your friends made to you.”

“Hard for you to talk, huh?” He jokes, his shoulders lifting as he laughs, relaxing after. “How come you do all this?” You look at him, confused. “Like… this,” He shakes his hand that rests underneath yours. “And this.” He lifts the shoulder where your head rests. “You’re always next to me. Girls are never this close with me.”

You scoff, laughing, your fingers brushing over the back of his hand for a moment. “I wish someone cared for me like this. After my mom died.” There’s definitely a lack of closure in that sentence, which made the air awkward. “I want to… give you what I did not have. I hope you don’t mind. I can stop if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. I really don’t mind. Thank you. It’s just… I guess I never had anyone comfort me like this either.” Comfort. That’s the word. You mutter it quietly to yourself, remembering what it meant. You hadn’t felt it in a while as well, only feeling most comfortable whenever you stayed with Yuzu. Eventually, you found comfort in Ryō as well.

You traced patterns on Ryō’s hand, sometimes even spelling out words. It became a hobby of yours, and sometimes he’d try to guess what you were writing as well. “B…” He started, feeling the letters on his hand. “E, A, C, H…” He looked up at you with wonder in his eyes, being able to see something past his dark irises. “The Beach?” He says it as if it was something glorified. You nod, him grabbing your wrists. “What is the Beach? Do you know? Have you been there?” You’re overwhelmed by the questions he asks you, trying to process all of them at once.

“No. I heard another person talk about the Beach. I told Yuzu. Then she heard someone talk about it too. We want to know what it is.” You explain. Something lights up in Ryō’s head, the idea being explained to you. “Some people I’ve seen wore wristbands. They had numbers on them.”

“Follow. We will follow them.” You add, Ryō nodding eagerly.

“We’ll start looking. For supplies, then we’ll search at night. You can convince Usagi, can’t you?” You nod, only half sure of it. You felt that Ryō had a better chance of convincing her for some odd reason. Yuzu still intimidated Ryō— you could tell. He’d always seem… nervous around her.

Your hands are clasped together, his own covering them with a soft grip. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it out. We’ll stick together.”

That was a week ago.

Meanwhile Yuzu offered to take the solo tent as you were sleeping in a park during your period of locating the Beach. Her and Ryō bickered about it until she finally won (like usual), meaning that he’d have to sleep in the same tent as you.

Beside you.

You totally weren’t freaking out over it. Why was Yuzu so persistent to sleep alone anyways?

Except Ryō offered to sleep outside, in the grass, where all the bugs flew around. You heard slaps from outside repeatedly, trying to fall asleep. The thing with heightened hearing was that you heard everything. Almost everything. You heard the bugs buzz outside, you heard the soft pants of Ryō every time he slapped himself. It didn’t take you long to be so bothered by it, nearly breaking the zipper to open the tent.

“Come inside. Stop slapping your face.” You say sternly, visibly bothered. Ryō pauses for a second, kicking his shoes off before scrambling inside and zipping the tent shut. He looks at you, laying down normally, just realizing how close the two of you would be. You look back at him taking a deep breath after simply patting the spot beside you.

He lays down slowly, holding his breath, shoulders tense and tight. “Calm down. It’s only me.” You mutter, turning towards him. Your nose nudges his upper arm, your hand resting on top of his. You can hear his heart racing, yet he still didn’t listen to you. “Ryō. You’re okay.” You reassure, hearing him exhale and feeling his shoulders relax. Your eyes flutter shut in an attempt to fall asleep. His arm didn’t move, but you felt the tips of his fingers touch yours.

Just before you drift off, you feel his hand hold onto yours, his touch soft and comforting.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This wasn't part of the plan.

You were being restrained by two men in bathing suits, being dragged into a large room where a bunch of people were standing in a circle. You tried to flail, but their grip on you was too strong. You first catch sight of Yuzu and Ryō, who are relieved to see that you were okay. "Y/N!"

“Ah, you three must know each other.” The man in front of you says, his orange robe blocking your vision. All your cards are laid out on the table, but it’d be too risky to grab them with two people guarding them with firearms.

From what the man said, there were three rules. You must wear a swimsuit, since firearms and/or weapons could not be concealed. Enjoy your life as much as you can, whether that be through doing drugs, having sex, or drowning yourself in alcohol. Lastly, death to the traitors, meaning the three of you didn’t have a choice but to accept if you wanted to live.

“L/N, Usagi… I’m sorry… for getting you involved.”You hear Ryō whisper from behind, your head slowly dropping, body language displaying that it was okay. “Don’t apologize. We were in this together.”

Judging from the man’s laugh, who you later learned was nicknamed ‘Hatter’, you were now a part of The Beach, like little pawns designed to win games that didn’t fully guarantee the benefit of being able to leave the hellish world.

You were sent into a room with one of the executives and Yuzu, being showed an array of swimsuits; one pieces, two pieces, bikinis, swim shorts, they had all kinds. Both of you darted for the same set, long shorts and a simple bra top, but let your friend have hands on it first, finding another one, black with swirls of grey on it, the top more cropped and shorter bottoms. You look at the executive, her arms crossed and sunglasses on, seeing her nod.

Before you leave, both you and Yuzu snagged an extra garment, a jacket and a thin robe, running into Ryō by the pool. His eyes land on both of you, but he’s drawn to you in particular, the way your robe is meant to cover but doesn’t do that at all considering it’s see through. Your chest, your waist, your thighs– he was being a pervert. He snapped out of it, looking away immediately.

And you walk over all innocent, checking your wristband in sync with Usagi, your own eyes trailing over his figure. He mostly looked the same, yet he seemed more stiff than usual. People had eyes on you, everyone you looked, there were stares coming from the bar, the poolside, even the beach chairs.

Your hand naturally drifts over to Ryō’s, toying with his fingers to distract you. He must have noticed something more, instead holding your hand fully with a tight grip. He doesn’t let go of you the whole day, afraid he’d lose you in the crowds.

The only time he let go was when everyone was separated into groups for individual games. The woman who was with you in the dressing room had Ryō following her, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart crack a little. Your eyes meet for a brief moment before he leaves, and he swears he can see the light in your eyes dim for a moment.

You managed to come back alive, and so did Yuzu, yet Ryō was nowhere to be found. As you walked down the never ending halls of the large resort, she brings up a topic you haven’t discussed once in your life.

“You like him, don’t you?”

At first, you’re confused as to who him is, then remember that there was only one him in the first place.

“Ryō?”

“You’ve been close with him. Touchy.” You nod, agreeing with her points. “You’ve always been that way, but there’s something… different. Different when it comes to Arisu.”

Your head tilts slightly, wondering how that could be. “You’re comfortable with him. You don’t second guess and always go for it. I’ve seen the way your face goes red when he accepts your gesture. The way you smile when he leans closer to you to make your habits of playing with his fingers more discreet. When he smiles at you, and you’re left lovestruck with your mouth hanging open.”

“Of course I like Ryō. He is my friend.”

“Not that like…” Yuzu searches for the words in her head, trying to put them together in a way you’d understand, but deciding to be straightforward. “You like him in a way you want to kiss him.”

You heat up from that thought alone. Kissing your friend? You weren’t sure if you were blushing from the thought of you liking it or the thought that it was embarrassing. “I haven’t… kissed anyone.” Yuzu looks around, dragging you into an empty hotel room and locking the door, letting you sit on the bed.

“Have there been times where you think of… inappropriate things involving him?”

“Sex?”

“…Sure. Sex thoughts.”

You sit there for a moment, embarrassed that you have thought about such dirty things. But Yuzu was right there, waiting for an answer, and you couldn’t get out of it despite having the choice to not say anything.

“His hands.”

“What about his hands?”

The image replays in your head like a movie. “On my waist, my hips, my thighs…” You list, unable to make eye contact with your friend. “His fingers…” You look down between your legs, not wanting to go into detail. “His lips.” Your hand brushes over your chest briefly before moving it back to your side.

“Aren’t you a virgin?”

“I know things. I’ve seen things.”

“But do you like Arisu for who he is? That’s the big question. Because if you don’t, I think you’ll hurt him.”

“I’ve always liked his personality. There are… things we… keep between ourselves that others don’t know about. I really like him, I do. It feels wrong to think such… dirty things about him. I can’t help it.” Yuzu sits down next to you, feeling a dip in the mattress on your left. “I ran into Kuina while walking around the club when you two stayed by the bar. She said to live life while I still could. And she mentioned you.”

“Me?”

“Even though we’re newcomers, she noticed you and Arisu. Even she could see the tension, despite never knowing what was going on between you two.” She holds your hands gently, one hand under and the other on top. “I’m not encouraging any… sexual activities… but I think you should tell him.”

“Tell him… I like him?”

“If he says no, I’ll kill him. And you of all people should know I will take that to heart. I feel this is the only time I’ve seen you so open, especially with Arisu. If that’s what it takes to see you like that all the time, then I hope you’ll go for it.” You smile and hug her, eventually feeling her take you in her own arms. “I will run back to you if it does not go well.” You state before you pull away. Both of you leave the room together, Yuzu going on her own after spotting a girl with a bikini top and jeans from afar.

You mindlessly check downstairs, outside, the club, and eventually back into the hallways, running into Ryō by the stairs.

“Y– L/N.”

“Y/N is okay.” You assure, walking with him close enough to have your fingers brushing against each other. “How was your game?” He asked. “Good. Easy.”

“Of course it was.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you pick up on a tinge of alcohol coming from Ryō. “Did you drink?” You ask, the scent not strong but prominent. “A little bit. Hatter wanted to discus with me. I’m not drunk.” You eye him, believing he’s telling the truth after not finding anything different about his mannerisms. “I managed to get a suite.” He says.

“How?”

“I played with Ann. The executive. Then Hatter talked to me and I got the room.”

“So… you are an executive now?”

“No. Hatter said I was… beneficial.”

Ryō takes your hand, guiding you up one more flight of stairs and opening the room, revealing a large space with a cozy seating area, a large window with the curtains closed, and a massive, made bed. His jacket is hanging in the bathroom, soaked and dripping but left to dry with a towel underneath.

“What happened to your robe?” He notices, looking back at you. “Held me back. Threw it during my game.”

You look at the door. “Should we tell Yuzu this room?”

“I already did. I ran into her before I found you.” You anxiously scratch the palm of your hand, staring at his shirt. “What’s wrong? Is there something bothering you?” You shake your head, the scratching intensifying. He grabs your wrists, separating your hands. “Don’t do that. You might scratch too hard and bleed.” He notices your hands shaking, knowing if he let go that you would continue.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his grip loosening. Your heart is pounding, unable to make eye contact with him. “I want… to tell you something.” You stutter, breath shaky. Ryō could feel the pulse point on your wrist, unclear but fast thumps against his thumb. “I like you.”

His eyes widen, and he almost lets go, but instead you grab his hand and place it against your chest, feeling your heartbeat just as fast as he did from your wrist. He was trying so hard not to stare at your tits at the same time.

“I’m scared.” You mutter, hiding your face.

“Why?”

“That you’ll hate me… since you don’t… like me back.”

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

You look up at him for the first time since you’ve entered the room, and his look is genuine. Your hand stays on his wrist, but he moves his own hand up your neck, a sudden chill shaking your body. He tilts your head up to make up for the height, and kisses you.

He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him.

The moment his lips are on yours, you don’t want to let go. You wanted to kiss him for as long as you could, be in his arms for as long as they could hold you. You’re both a mess of tongue and lips, and you couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more than he could give.

You both stumble over to the bed, being the first to lay down with Ryō hovering over you. His chest presses against your tits as he leans into you, making you groan. He pulls away, a whine emitting from you, his finger barely slipping under the band of your bra, looking at you endearingly. “Can we do this? I want to make you feel good. Please.” He practically moans, and you don’t even have to think, nodding profusely.

Maybe it’s the fact you’re horny as fuck right now, as he is, but god, you wanted to see him beg for you so bad. Seeing the position he was in right now, pleading for your consent, the way his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, you wanted to be the only one that could make him do that.

And by the end of the night, you certainly did.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Clothes are strewn on the floor, the light barely shines through the crack of the curtains. There’s a naked man laying next to you in bed, snoring softly with his mouth slightly open. His hair messy and his arm under your head, he lays there peacefully, his own eyes fluttering open and squeezing shut after being hit with the light of the sun. He opens them to see you, and your glowing, post-sex face.

“Hi.” You greet, further leaning on his arm. “Hi.” He replies, hand curling around your head to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so pretty.” He says, fingers playing with your hair.

“You are.”

He doesn’t retaliate and simply smiles, giving you your first kiss of the day. He breaks eye contact first, lost in thought. “Does this change anything between us?” He asks, looking back at you. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I… that was… really nice.” He refers to the night before with a smile, unashamed.

“I want… to be more… than friends.” The words come out staggered, but he understands, his smile growing slightly. “But I don’t want this to… hold us back in games. If we lose each other, we won’t join the other. The other… must stay alive. I don’t want me or you to give up… because the other half isn’t there anymore. Can you promise that?” There’s a tinge of worry in his eyes, but it slowly changes to understanding as your hand cups his jaw. He nods. “I promise.”

You kiss him once more, bringing the two of you back onto each other again. His free hand rests on your waist, moving to your back to push you closer, then down to your ass, your leg on top of his side.

“Jesus, I thought you two were done already.”

Yuzu is staring at you from a distance by the corner of the wall, seeing one of your undergarments on the floor. “Get dressed, we need to find more intel. Y/N, you can stay with Arisu, since you’re already with him anyways.” She eyes the position you’re in right now, looking at Arisu, then at you. “I’m assuming it went well.”

You nod. “It did.”

“I knew it would. I knew he liked you anyways. I was going to come in until I heard what was going on. You left the door unlocked. Lucky you two were so loud no one dared to walk in.” She leaves the room, the two of you back to admiring each other in the glow of the covered sunlight.

“I could never hate you, by the way. I feel like you’re the reason I’m still alive right now. Everything you said stuck with me… and I guess it kept pushing me to live.”

“What if I die? Would you… still have the will to live?”

“I’d keep living if that was your last dying wish.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i want to say hi to you. i have no reason to. 🎧

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