#ty for the ask!! and apologies for the late response!!
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For Sindri Brosca:
Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?
Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?
Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?
for the fandom oc ask meme
smiling like the grinch at getting another opportunity to talk about sindri rn!! liable to write essays about them always so i’ll stick to the warden timeline to keep this short-ish
canon character who doesn’t respect sindri: morrigan
mostly because she thinks sindri has no self-respect (true!)
where it gets a bit misguided is that she also thinks they’re… soft (debatable) and naive (definitely not)
from her POV, they have no resources to fall back on & the pressure of the blight is not going anywhere so they should be extremely selfish!
meanwhile sindri tries to help people out wherever possible while they recruit each faction and it drives her crazy
it doesn't improve her opinion of them at all when she does see them making cutthroat calls at other times because she just... fundamentally doesn't understand them
she can't wrap her head around what they're thinking so it just seems bafflingly inconsistent
canon character sindri respects a lot: sten, by a country mile
there ARE other reasons they get on, but in terms of respect...
it's because he knows his role and devotes himself to the fulfilment of it. no excuses, no railing against fate
there's a part of sindri that always struggled with the role that was imposed on them by their family
then with the joining that burden was replaced by a doomed fight against the darkspawn for the rest of their life
they try not to think about it (as always) but there's definitely some turmoil going on there
and yet, for sten who has had even less personal freedom than sindri and will share their fate in fighting an endless war of his own, there's no such turmoil
they can't not admire that and take inspiration from it
after all if there is true fulfilment in fashioning yourself into a tool for the service of your kin and your sworn brothers, all sindri has to do to attain that is to Keep Enduring
canon character sindri doesn't respect: shale
what's really unfortunate here is that they actually do get on fairly well until they get into the deep roads!
... then all that respect is lost within the span of minutes
generally they're willing to hear people out, but how things go down at the anvil has them seeing red
learning that the shale once saw the value of what it could do for its people in a stronger, constructed form... that it doesn't remember any of this yet now wants to side with caridin to destroy any opportunity anyone else might have to do the same?
it's shortsighted. it's idiotic.
destroying the anvil because of orzammar politics isn't even worth considering
there will be volunteers. sindri will be the first in line.
when that line is crossed again (yes, they know, it surely will) it can be dealt with then. for now, there's a blight, and a single company of golems could face down countless waves of darkspawn
#ty for the ask!! and apologies for the late response!!#from sindri's pov it all seems so obvious#yes. of course. orzammar's nobles will use this for their own ends some day. they use us for their own ends every day. it doesn't MATTER.#and yet the anvil thing is probably thee choice that cements this worldstate as a tragedy :')#it's an acceptance of the cycles of exploitation that have shaped their life by reframing it all into duty and purpose#can't actually take credit for that symbolism of the total loss of personhood coinciding with the killing of shale here#bc i straight up just forgot i was planning to save the anvil when i took it along 🥹#sindri brosca
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oomf...,, idk how to request but,, hoshiumi fic,, abt height difference... pleek 🥹? ty
say cheese!
character: korai hoshiumi
word count: 776
warning(s): tall!reader, fluff, summertime (it’s hot)
content: even in the unbearable summer heat, you and hoshiumi are picture-perfect. <3
a/n: hi anon!!! apologies for the late response (i’ve been vacationing before school starts back EW), and thank you for the request (i was at disney for a day so that was my inspiration)! i’ve also actually never written for hoshiumi, so i hope this is to your liking!
Disneyland lied when they said it was the happiest place on earth.
With the heat index at 41°C, you thought you were going to die from heat exhaustion. No matter how much water you drank the day prior, you felt yourself growing fainter by the minute.
“Koraiiiiii,” you whined as you walked through the park to the next ride, “can you buy me a water?”
Hoshiumi cut his eyes up at you, a playful scowl contorting his face. “This is why I told you to bring a water bottle!” He’d been so excited to come visit the park, nothing was going to stop this day—not even your slow death from the heat.
“I did, but could you get me a cold one? Please? I’m dying right now.” You put on your best puppy eyes, your lip jutting out for extra emphasis. He grimaced, trying to stay strong and look away from you.
He then sighed, knowing he lost this fight. With an overly dramatic eye roll, he walked to the nearest stand to buy you a water, grumbling, “I knew we were gonna end up spending $100 on water. I’d much rather buy a lightsaber, but noooo…” Ignoring him, you tried taking a picture of the castle, but your phone didn’t seem to do it justice. You frowned, unhappy with the pics, and quickly deleted all the ones you took.
Upon his return, you smiled at the two water bottles he held. “Thank youuu,” you sang happily with a chaste kiss to his cheek before taking a big swig from your new bottle.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his blush blending in with the slight sunburn on his cheeks, “Okay! Now it’s time to go ride—“
“Excuse me?”
You both turned to see a smiling cast member holding a camera, and Hoshiumi let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. He just wanted to ride some of the rides!!!
“I saw you taking a picture of the castle, would you two like a photo together in front of it?”
Your eyes lit up at the idea—you and Hoshiumi didn’t have many pictures together, so you wanted one that was special. Even though you were sweaty and overheated, you agreed, “I would love it!”
After the photographer placed you both in the best angle with the castle perfectly behind, she called, “Say cheese!” On cue, Hoshiumi flashed his winning, slightly crooked, smile that still made you giddy. His confident, yet cheeky, eyes gave him the boyish charm that you adore.
The photographer was pleased with the result, so she then added, “Now a silly one!”
Without thinking about it, you reached your arm over, resting it right on his head, as if using him as an arm rest. You looked to the camera with a shit-eating grin. An immediate half-annoyed, half-amused expression crossed Hoshiumi’s face as he met your eyes, before you both started laughing. You were the only one able to tease him about his height without any repercussions; he knew—coming from you—that it was all in good fun. His only scolds came halfheartedly when he joked, “So rude!” with a gentle push.
When the photographer showed you the photos, you noticed your eyes were closed in the silly picture when it was taken. Before you could ask for another, though, you looked at them one more time.
Upon closer examination, you noticed, unbeknownst to you at that time, how Hoshiumi looked up at you. In one specific picture, he had a cheeky smile that was full of laughter as he gazed up at you. He was taking in all your features, with the thin sheen of sweat that gave you a slight glow. Seeing the hearts in his eyes, you felt a blush creep on your face. You knew that look in his eye, the love radiating from the picture. He didn’t need to say the words, “I love you;” his eyes did it for him.
It was perfect timing—a picture captured of him falling in love with you once again.
“And how exactly can I get these pictures?”
—
Beaming at the new photos in your camera roll, your mind was completely distracted from the heat that prickled at your skin. Maybe Disneyland was the happiest place on Earth…
You were getting ready to post the pictures at the same time as you and Hoshiumi finally reached the line for your favorite ride—it would’ve been his first time riding it!
Until you heard the young attendant snicker and ask, “Ya sure you’re tall enough to ride this, kiddo?”
You just sighed when you heard Hoshiumi’s red-hot, “What did you just say?”
… It was gonna be a long day.
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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.
#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic#hoshiumi x you#hq hoshiumi#haikyuu x you#hoshiumi kourai#hoshiumi korai#hoshiumi#haikyuu hoshiumi#hoshiumi x reader#hq#haikyuu drabbles#hoshiumi fluff#hoshiumi kourai x reader#disney#disneyworld yippeee#bokutoko#bokutoko fics
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harvest day - l.m.
secret admirer!Liam x Luceran!reader. part of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 932 🏷: reader is feminine and has longish hair (can be tied), but no pronouns used. I am once again making random stuff up about Navarrian cultures. featuring my farm-boy Sawyer headcanon lmao (Luceras doesn’t have one major city on the map in the book. It’s all farmland, and you cannot convince me otherwise.)
You nearly crush it under your boot in your hurry to get to class, stepping back at the last second to pick it up.
A tiny dragon carved from wood -- your dragon, complete with his horns and a tiny spiked tail. You run your fingers over the wood — it’s been sanded, perfectly smooth against your skin. The level of detail is incredible. This must have taken hours.
“You’re going to be late, humble one.”
Right. You tuck it into the pocket of your jacket, locking your door behind you and jogging down the hall.
You make it just in time, apologizing your way down the row, stepping around people’s feet carefully until you’ve made it to your friends. You settle between Rhiannon and Sawyer, thanking them for saving you a seat. “Overslept,” you explain, digging in your bag for your notebook, which you had nearly forgotten to pack.
You remove your flight jacket, taking the tiny dragon from your pocket and setting it on the desk beside your pen.
“Whoa, sick! Who made that?” Sawyer asks.
“I don’t know. I just found it outside my door. It looks just like him, though. Even got the horns right.”
“It is a very good representation of me,” Cruith appraises. “Though I have never once been that small.”
“That's awesome. Maybe they’re like, a wood-wielder or something,” Ridoc suggests, leaning over to examine it.
“I’m pretty sure that signet doesn’t exist,” Rhiannon says dryly.
“If he can do all that with metal, then it's entirely possible someone could do it with wood,” Ridoc defends.
“That’s what she said,” Sawyer says quietly, trying not to laugh.
Ridoc grins. “I’m rubbing off on you, man.”
You snort. “Now that's what she said.”
“Focus,” Rhiannon scolds lightly, ever the responsible squad leader, her eyes not having left the chalkboard this whole time.
“Yes, mom,” the three of you chorus softly, turning your attention back to the professor.
Violet looks like she has something to say, but she remains quiet.
---------------------------------------------------
“Mail call,” Rhiannon announces, distributing opened letters to each of you.
Your heart drops as soon as you start to read yours.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t realize the date. It’s Harvest Day on Wednesday. Last year I was just too busy trying to stay alive to think about it, but…”
Sawyer winces, understanding. “I wish I could be there too. I swear when I graduate, I’m gonna use all my leave every year to help them.”
“I’m so lost,” Ridoc says, looking between you.
You laugh, explaining. “Everyone spends the day — the week, really — helping their neighbors harvest their crops, and there’s always a feast at the end with what we’ve grown.”
“Gods, the food. My family doesn’t come from much, but that was always the one day a year I felt like we were rich,” Sawyer admits.
You sigh in agreement. “It’s gonna be so weird wearing black all day instead of fall colors.”
“That is the most Luceran thing I’ve ever heard,” Ridoc says. “Sometimes I forget you guys are all farmers.”
“It’s only our single most important holiday,” you laugh. “And we’re not all farmers. Two of us are dragon riders.”
Sawyer grins at you, putting a hand up for a high five. “Damn right we are.”
---------------------------------------------------
Everyone’s eyes widen at the silky orange ribbon tying your hair back. You beam, turning your head to show it off. “Courtesy of the wood-wielder. I have no idea where they got it.”
Your joy is short-lived.
“Precisely what is that, cadet?” Dain asks sharply, and your face falls. There’s only one thing he can be taking issue with, the only spot of color in the sea of black making up your formation.
“It’s a Luceran tradition,” someone says for you — but not Sawyer or any of your friends. “Today is Harvest Day.”
You turn toward the voice, seeing Liam behind you, his eyes locked with Dain’s as if he’s daring the wingleader to argue with him. How does he know about the holiday? Had he overheard your conversation with your squad earlier?
“I expect it to be gone tomorrow,” Dain concedes. “You’re all dismissed.”
You breathe a sigh of relief as everyone files out of the hall.
“Liam?” You ask softly, and he stops, turning toward you. “Thank you.”
Then you see the small block of wood in his hand, the rough shape of another dragon etched into it. “It was you,” you whisper, stunned.
He laughs. “What?”
You reach into your pocket, producing the carving of Cruith. “You made this, right? Were you the one who wrote those physics notes for me when I was in the infirmary, too?”
He smiles. “Yeah. That was all me.”
Your heart flutters with hope. “Why?”
“Because I was too nervous to say it, but I really like you.”
You blink. Liam, the one who isn’t scared of anything, was nervous to talk to you? And he has a crush on you? You’ve always found him attractive, but you had never thought this a possibility.
“Say something,” Cruith prods, sounding amused.
You finally form words. “Do you want to go into town with me this weekend?”
He blushes, scratching the back of his neck. “I would really like that.”
“Hey, lovebirds, are you coming to breakfast, or what?” Ridoc calls. “Some of us are starving over here!”
You laugh, a sound Liam will never tire of. “Just a minute!” You yell back.
You touch your fingertips to the soft silk, looking up at him. “Thank you, Liam. It really means a lot to me.”
He smiles. “Of course, sweetheart.”
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hey! do you have any muted red and gray/black dividers? ty!
hello @nonbinaryeddiekaspbrak !!! SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE ☠️ I've had a lot of things going on in life taking time away from online, but here are some dividers for you, if you'd like more or a different type, make an ask and I'll get more for you I apologize 😭
please like, reblog, and credit (。・ω・。)ノ♡
#dividers#blog resources#aesthetic#discord server resources#carrd resources#carrd dividers#carrd decor#red dividers#red#dark red#black dividers#black divider#carrd stuff#carrd#rentry resources#rentry decor#rentry stuff#rentry
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pretty please (hear me out) || c.sc
Seungcheol's four weeks after the Big Argument™ in Chapter 5.
💔 Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader (f) 💔 Rating/Genres/AUs: NC-17; Angst, college au, Pretty Please Couple 💔 Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns, implications of slut-shaming, name-calling, bullying 💔 Word Count: 2.8k 💔 Author’s Note: Been in the drafts for ages and I've finally finished it 😪
pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!
Seungcheol knows he royally fucked up.
He knows he just said the stupidest shit ever in his life.
He knows he may have just lost you forever.
He wants to slam his fist into the drywall to expel all the frustration he’s feeling. His legs urge him to chase Jeonghan’s car so he can convince you to talk to him.
He just wants to make this right.
“You gonna talk about what just happened?” Chan inquires while watching Seungcheol pace his living room.
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” Seungcheol growls.
“What did you do?” Jun asks.
“I—” Seungcheol begins to reply, but just recalling his dumbass words makes him halt and huff instead.
“Take a breath, hyung. I’m sure you two can make up,” Chan tries to reassure.
“Here’s some water,” Soonyoung says, coming back from the kitchen and offering a cold glass.
Seungcheol mutters a thanks and takes a long swig. Despite the coldness feeling refreshing to his heated body, he doesn’t calm down.
There’s a knock at the door that startles everyone. Seungcheol slams the glass down and rushes to open it.
In his mind, he knows it’s not really you, but in his heart, he hopes it is.
“I’m back,” Jeonghan says sheepishly. “And I come bearing a gift.”
Jeonghan slowly raises Seungcheol’s car keys. Seungcheol snatches them and tries to make a beeline for his car, but Jeonghan stops him with a hand on his chest.
“I would give her some time,” he explains.
Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, I need to apologize to her.”
Jeonghan eases him into the apartment again, locking the door.
“You know she’s not going to listen to you,” he sighs.
“He’s got a point,” Jun interjects timidly.
“Yeah, you’re both really upset. You two should calm down before having any conversation,” Soonyoung adds.
Seungcheol’s first response is to ignore them. He doesn’t want his words to linger in your mind more than they already have. He doesn’t want you to see him as a bad person despite it might be too late.
He’s just eager to save the good pieces of the relationship before they get tarnished too.
But he knows his friends are right.
He’ll probably make matters worse.
Seungcheol tosses his keys on the stand and staggers to his seat again.
“Did she get home safe?” Seungcheol asks Jeonghan after a moment of tense silence.
Jeonghan nods.
“Good,” he mumbles.
The room falls silent. No one says a word and the air grows thicker as each minute passes.
Finally, Soonyoung says, “Is there anything we can do for you?”
Seungcheol continues to stare a hole into his flooring. A lot is being processed in his mind and he’s starting to feel numb.
“No,” he answers dully.
Soonyoung glances at Jeonghan as if silently asking for help.
Jeonghan sighs. “Maybe we can help lessen the situation if you tell us what happened,” he tries.
Seungcheol leans forward, elbows on his knees and head planted in his hands.
“I basically called her a campus whore,” he huffs out.
“W-What?” Jun and Chan gasp in unison, only making Seungcheol’s heart heavier with guilt.
“Did she do something that made you say that?” Jeonghan wonders.
“I thought she told Dae she was a virgin, and I found that hard to believe. I said some stupid shit after.”
They’re quiet again for some time.
Seungcheol, unable to stand the judgmental silence, pushes himself from his seat to pace the room again. Images of you in the same room appear in his mind—the scene playing out once more.
“Do you really think she’s a,” Chan trails off, not wanting to repeat Seungcheol’s words.
“No, so I don’t know why I said it,” he groans.
“Maybe you believe the rumors more than you think you do,” Soonyoung says.
“It doesn’t help Hajun, Hana, and Doyun talk down on her, too,” Jun adds.
“They’ve always been the gossipers.” Soonyoung frowns.
Seungcheol groans as he falls back in his seat, defeated.
“She’s never going to forgive me,” he insists.
“Give her some time. Hopefully, once you both talk, it’ll get better,” Chan says.
“Just show you’re sorry and make sure she knows you don’t actually believe what you said,” Soonyoung chimes in.
“I doubt she’ll even listen to me for five minutes,” Seungcheol scoffs, annoyed he put himself in this position.
“She definitely won’t right now, which is why you need to give her space,” Jeonghan says.
“Let’s go eat. Maybe some food will help you think about how to fix this,” Jun suggests.
Although Seungcheol wants to stay indoors and have guilt consume him, he agrees to go. Maybe it will help.
Seungcheol watches you detour from him on campus for the sixth time. It’s been nearly two weeks and you refuse to speak to him. Hell, you act as if seeing him will burn your eyes out. He’s become a plagued rat to you.
You want nothing to do with him.
He knew you were upset and would ignore him the first few attempts, but he didn’t expect you to drop him from your life completely.
He just needs five minutes of your time. He needs you to know he deeply regrets the words he said. He hasn’t been able to think of a way to prove it to you, but he figures putting distance between him and Hajun would be a good start.
“No luck?” someone asks behind him.
Seungcheol turns to see Joshua.
“I think she’s done with me,” Seungcheol replies, gaze still on the spot where you had turned the corner.
“She’ll come around,” he says.
Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, I don’t think she will.”
As he says those words, another chip falls from his broken heart. He hadn’t realized how much he had grown to like you until you stormed out his door that weekend. Sure, he knew he liked you more than a friend, but not to this extent.
Though perhaps he’s feeling so strongly because you paint him as a villain. He hates knowing you think so badly about him. He said some very untrue, very fucked up shit, but he’s not a bad person.
At least he hopes he’s not.
Joshua places a friendly hand on Seungcheol’s shoulders.
“Don’t be so sure,” Joshua says.
Seungcheol finally looks at his friend. There’s not much hope in his eyes.
Seungcheol stares at the flood of messages he’s sent you.
Still no response.
Sighing, he exits out of the app and sets his phone down. Maybe he’s just digging himself a deeper hole. Maybe all the texts and attempted talks irritate you. Perhaps all you think about is that damned conversation when you see his name or see his face. There’s a possibility you’ll never forgive him.
“You’ve barely started,” Hajun says as she leans over to his side of the table. Her gaze is on the open document on the screen. He’s only managed to type four paragraphs in the past hour.
“We have to turn this in in two weeks,” she continues with a disapproving expression.
Seungcheol subtly scoots away.
“I know,” he replies. “I’ll get my part done in time. Don’t worry.”
Hajun doesn’t take the hint and stares at him.
“Is something going on with you? You’ve been distracted in class and… slower with finishing your work,” she observes.
“Nothing you need to know about,” Seungcheol says.
“Everything okay with your family?” she questions.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
She frowns and rests her hand over his. Her touch lacks the warmth and jittery feelings he used to get from someone else.
“I can’t help it,” she says. “I care.”
“Plus, if you slack off, we have to pick up the work,” Doyun teases.
“I said I’ll get it done.” Seungcheol’s tone is a bit firmer. He slides his hand from Hajun’s and stands up.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” he announces. After closing his laptop, he steps out of the study room. His mind takes him back to when you stood outside this very same room. You were dressed in such bright colors that you looked out of place. However, he hadn’t felt like you were. It had felt right to have you so near.
Now, the hallway is empty.
Just like his heart.
When Seungcheol sees you in the cafeteria two days later, he turns away.
His heart seems torn in two. One half screams at him to stomp over and recite the speech he’s created in his head; the other half says it’s too late for redemption.
He isn’t putting in the towel, but he’s giving you the space you want. He’s decided to stop pestering you with text messages and campus visits. It’s obvious his advances aren’t doing him any good. If he ends up frustrating you more, you’ll never hear him out. Maybe you need to come to him instead.
But maybe you never will.
Seungcheol’s appetite dissipates. He walks back to the business building, finds a quiet place to sit, and falls asleep slumped to the side. The last memory he has before greeting slumber is holding you from behind after Seoah had left the living room in his apartment. He remembers teasing you and feeling content with his arms around you. He wonders if he’ll ever get that opportunity again.
Seungcheol sulks at the grade glaring at him.
He’s had worse, but it’s been a few years since he got them.
A shoulder bumps into him. He sets down his phone and looks up. Hajun smiles, pointing to his phone.
“I got a 93. Did I finally beat you?” she teases.
Seungcheol nods his head.
Hajun’s smile grows as she leans over his table.
“Really?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he says, lacking her enthusiasm.
“So, what’d you get?” she questions and takes the empty seat beside him.
“A 66,” he answers, shifting his gaze away.
Hajun gasps. “You’re not playing a game with me, are you?”
“No,” he sighs.
She pauses for a moment then leans in close like she’s about to tell him a secret.
“Is it because of Yn?”
There’s a subtle distaste when she says your name that makes him annoyed.
“Not everything is because of her,” he replies.
“Maybe, but a lot,” Hajun says.
Seungcheol turns his gaze to her. “Like?”
“For starters your low grades,” she replies unhesitatingly. Seungcheol begins to instantly regret asking. “Then, there’s your cranky attitude. You’ve been in a sour mood for weeks.”
She shifts closer to inspect him. Seungcheol moves away, not liking how much she’s in his bubble.
“Wait, I haven’t seen her lately. Is that why you’re… like this?” Hajun asks. She tries to mask the disgust she feels, but Seungcheol notices it.
“Where has she been? Too busy with that silly fashion show?” she continues.
“It’s not silly,” Seungcheol says.
Hajun gives him a look of disbelief. “Seriously? Her whole major is silly.”
Seungcheol takes a deep breath to calm himself down. At first, Seungcheol also didn’t understand why you would major in something frivolous, but he’s seen how passionate you are about the field. He knows how hard you work for your goals, and he finds that admirable. He supports you because he can see how much it means to you.
“Just drop it, Hajun,” he mumbles.
“Or maybe,” she begins to say with a smirk. “Was the sex really that disappointing?”
Seungcheol narrows his eyes; his body becomes rigid.
Hajun’s eyes widen. “You two actually had sex?! Really, Seungcheol? With her?”
“That’s none of your business, Hajun,” he nearly growls.
Seungcheol typically tries not to show frustration toward his friends, but she’s stepped over the line. Again.
“I told you she wasn’t worth it,” she sighs, frowning. Her voice becomes softer. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Seungcheol picks up his phone and backpack.
“Yeah, do what I said earlier and drop it,” he grumbles, rising from his seat.
Hajun watches with big eyes, a little stunned by his harsh response. She silently pleads for him to stay.
“I—I just want you to be happy,” she says.
No, she just wants him to be happy doing what she wants. He realizes she doesn’t even apologize for what she’s said.
He doesn’t reply and finds another seat in the classroom. Thankfully, she doesn’t follow. He can feel her eyes on him, but he ignores it. He’s tempted to leave the room entirely, but with his low grades, he needs to attend the lecture.
Hana, Doyun, and Vernon walk into the room a few minutes later. Hana looks confused to see him and Hajun sitting on opposite sides of the room. Hana hesitates for a second before deciding to sit with Hajun. Doyun follows her while Vernon splits and sits by him.
“You alright?” Vernon asks as he gets his supplies from his bag.
“Should I say yes?” he questions, sinking lower in his seat from the weight of his problems.
“No,” Vernon says.
“Then no. I’m not,” Seungcheol huffs.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” Vernon pauses. “I’m here though whenever.”
Seungcheol looks at his friend. He offers a small smile.
“Thanks,” he says.
Vernon returns the expression and nods.
Even though Seungcheol tries his hardest to pay attention, his mind wanders frequently. He checks his phone even though he knows you haven’t texted him. Would you ever again?
The question brings back memories of you. He remembers going out of town with his family for spring break and texting you any chance he got. He remembers being teased about being a phone-addict. He’s not usually, but he felt like it then. He’d check his phone and be excited to see your messages.
He also remembers talking to you on the phone for hours once he got back. He enjoyed learning more about you; he almost felt a little special that you allowed him your time. He knew you were busy, yet you had talked to him until he started falling asleep.
He shoves the device deep in his pockets, hoping he can do the same with his thoughts.
Seungcheol doesn’t have a break between classes and heads directly to his next classroom with Vernon. Neither of them speaks much, and he’s grateful his friend understands his need for privacy. Vernon’s never been the one to push him to speak before he’s ready, and he appreciates that aspect of Vernon.
Like before, he still struggles with following along. He can review his notes later; hopefully, some of the content will come back to him.
After class, Vernon bid Seungcheol goodbye. It’s Seungcheol’s last class of the day and normally, he’d head home, but on days when he’s falling behind, he stays on campus. He often feels more focused. However before he can crack open his books, he needs a refresher.
Seungcheol leaves the business building and makes his way toward the central hub that houses several beverage and food options. He pushes the doors open and starts heading straight for the drinks line. However, familiar voices make his footsteps slow.
“She must’ve really needed to use the bathroom,” Mingyu says.
“Or maybe she ditched us,” Jeonghan replies with a chuckle.
Seungcheol takes a quick glance around and spots his friends near the pickup counter.
“We’ve got her drink, though,” Mingyu says, emphasizing his point by gesturing to one of the cups Jeonghan holds.
“I’ll go see if she’s lost,” Jeonghan sighs and leaves.
Seungcheol’s not sure who they’re talking about, but something in his gut says it’s about you.
Seungcheol detours and stops in front of Mingyu.
“Oh, hey,” Mingyu greets with a toothy grin.
“Hey,” Seungcheol replies.
“How were classes?” Mingyu asks.
Seungcheol shrugs, not feeling like doing small talk. He doesn’t want to seem too eager to talk about you, but he can’t help it.
“You here alone?” Seungcheol questions, knowing damn well he’s not.
Mingyu shakes his head. “No, I’m with Jeonghan and Yn… Speaking of, Jeonghan went to go check on her and hasn’t come back.”
As Mingyu speaks, his features become more puzzled. He turns without a word toward where Jeonghan went. Seungcheol follows.
Mingyu rounds the corner, asking, “Is she okay? What’s taking so long?”
Hajun is smiling at Jeonghan nearby while you stand a few feet away, a mixture of emotions on your face. But amidst them all is pain.
Seungcheol’s own heart squeezes at knowing something is wrong. Though, something’s been wrong.
And it’s then he realizes you’re doing something you haven’t done in weeks.
You’re looking at him for longer than three seconds.
It sounds ridiculous, but you’ve been avoiding him so much that a simple stare feels like stumbling upon a four-leaf clover.
Your gaze stirs something inside his chest. Something akin to hope.
Hope that you’ll finally hear him out.
Hope that you’ll forgive him one day.
Hope that you’ll let him back into your life.
He wants it all so badly.
A/N: More to come eventually 😫
Taglist: @ellllsia, @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23, @mystikha, @lithelust, @doom-fics
©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
#svt fanfic#scoups fanfic#seungcheol fanfic#scoups x reader#scoups angst#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol angst#svt angst#scoups x y/n#seungcheol x y/n#thediamondlifenetwork
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I DIG MY NAILS IN DYNAMITE. . . ! — ( MOIRA O'DEORAIN. )
#. synopsis! — if moira’s going to be forced to work the clinic, she’s going to do things her way: no matter how unconventional her methods may be. (malicious fucking compliance) .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , lesbian smut, female on female, dirty talk , slight begging , implied age difference , slight power imbalance , subtle medical setting , oral sex , cunnilingus , fingering , dom!moira , sub!reader , nipple sucking , some wall action , one-sided stimulation , giving preference (moira) , slight praise , sex in the workplace , finger sucking , sort of revenge sex .
#. word count! — 5.1k .
The clinical wing is hardly any of Moira’s responsibility. It wasn’t her idea, she had no intention of utilizing it herself, and the fact that she was being forced to work it alone for no less than ten hours a week was something akin to infuriating. If she didn’t already loathe Angela Ziegler and her fluffed up ideals about peace and prosperity, —she certainly did now. Because this was cutting into her time, and if there was one thing Moira couldn’t stand more than working with incompetent people: it was squandering her waking hours on fruitlessness. It was always the same things over and over and over again. You’d think a building full of well-educated men and women of science would have a better understanding of their own petty ailments by now, but no. . .
Every slim bout of nausea, every headache onset, every tiny papercut, it seemed, was good enough a reason to come crying to her. And she’d had enough. It’s not to say that you were any more or less annoying than anyone else who’d stopped by that day, but there was something so nerve grinding about your presence, about the way you glanced around the white-walled exam room, that set Moira off.
“What’s wrong with you, exactly?” She questioned, —though it was painfully clear she was only asking out of obligation and was none too pleased to be doing so.
Her stern, uncaring expression almost had you forgetting the lie you’d cooked up while sitting there alone for a good ten minutes.
“I’ve got um. . . A headache and I’m feeling a little dizzy,” you reply.
She notices how uncertain you sound of it, and her eyes narrow at you, regarding you suspiciously.
“Is that a question or a statement?” She asks bluntly, mincing no words in the process.
“A statement,” you answer, tacking on a soft apology that she doesn't care enough about to acknowledge.
“How long has this been going on?”
“A few hours, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
You’re really starting to wish you could just sink into the exam table and disappear. Even more than that, you’re cursing Doctor Ziegler for putting you up to this, —for deciding that you were just innocent looking enough to play a fools game with this woman before you. You’re certain now that the extra pay is hardly worth putting yourself through this just to see if Moira is really taking her position in the clinic seriously.
“A few hours,” you repeat, dropping the rest; but you know it’s already too late.
She’s annoyed with you. She’s sick of it here in this tiny room, and all she wants to do is put a stop to this ridiculousness and make use of her time her way. . . Which gets the cogs turning in her mind. If she has to be here, Moira’s going to make the most of it, —and what better way than to indulge herself in the sweetest little patient that’s set foot in here all day? It’ll be a bit before her clinic hours are up for now, and she’d much rather spend that time tying up some of her own loose ends than playing into Angela’s surprisingly spiteful hands.
“It’s a bit warm in here, no?” She says suddenly, straightening her back and standing to her full height as she shrugs off her lab coat.
“Uh. . . Yeah? A little, I guess,” you reply uncertainly, trying your best not to stare as she drapes the shed garment over the back of a chair and masterfully unbuttons the top of her white dress shirt.
The fabric is loose, and it sits against her pale skin like silken sheets atop a mattress. For all Moira is known for being: —cruel, sarcastic, brilliant, blunt— you can’t help but wonder why attractive doesn’t tend to make the shortlist. It’s far from the first time something like that has ever crossed your mind, of course, having worked in her vicinity for several months now, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt your insides twist themselves into pretzels at the sight of her.
She’s so tall, and even without the height, her personality alone commands the space she physically takes up. Moira is the kind of woman who doesn’t ask for what she desires, but simply demands it, and there’s something very stirring about that in a way you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.
“You guess, do you?” She raises an eyebrow, throwing you a blank glance.
Her hands come down to grip the edge of the exam table, the crinkly paper shuffling under the new pressure. She’s close enough now that you can feel her breath ghost against you, and somehow, her unchanging expression feels ten times more spine-tingling now that she’s less far away.
“Is there anything you’re certain of, y/n?” She questions, —and heaven help you, the way she says your name has your thighs itching to squeeze together where you sit.
“I-I. . .” You stutter pitifully, lost for words now that she's this close, eyes ghosting around her face, then around the room, just hoping to avoid her gaze.
“You. . .?” She prompts in a surprisingly gentle tone, removing one hand from the exam table to grab your face.
It's not a violent gesture, nor much of an unwelcome one, as her thumb sits on one cheek and four fingers press against the other. She steadies your head with the grasp, forcing the direction straight ahead, and your eyes naturally follow in suit. Moira can feel the way you swallow, watching as your throat moves to push the saliva down, and something akin to dangerous blossoms within her.
“You're a pretty girl,” she tells you.
Somehow, the tone she uses when she says it makes it feel less like a compliment and more like a statement of fact.
“It's too bad you're such a quiet thing. I'm sure under the right circumstances, your voice is quite sweet.”
Anything you could have thought to say in reply seems to all but die on your tongue or lodge in your throat. A shiver creeps up your spine, tingling under your skin, scattering goosebumps all across your body.
“Do you have any idea how tiring this is?” She asks, standing to her full height again, clarifying quickly: “Working in this clinic? When I, of all people, should be doing something of actual substance. Forgive me if your headache isn't as interesting to me as my own endeavors, —but you must realize how pathetic it is to come crawling to me about something so minute.”
Finally, you work up the nerve to speak back again.
“I'm sure it must be frustrating,” you answer. “I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, Doctor, I just. . .”
I didn't have much of a say in the matter.
She sighs.
“Did nobody ever teach you how to finish your sentences?” She asks, sounding rather incredulous. “Either out with it, or let me put your mouth to some proper use.”
You're not really sure what that's supposed to mean, but it's not as if you have much to say at the moment anyway. Anything you could have mustered up has gone out the window, drained like a pin-pricked egg.
A smirk tugs on her lips at your silence.
“Open,” she directs, a folded index finger sneaking under your chin and a thumb dragging your bottom lip down a bit.
In the moment, you hardly register the command, but somehow you manage to blink yourself back to reality fast enough to part your lips without her having to ask again. (Though asking wasn't really what she'd even done in the first place.)
“Good,” Moira hums, appearing all too pleased with herself, “it seems you’re capable of following directions.”
Having acknowledged that much, she sneaks that thumb up, letting it pass your lips and nudge at your tongue, feeling the warm wetness of your mouth. You feel yourself burning up, and Moira presses in until the pointed middle knuckle of her thumb is barely ghosting below your cupid's bow.
“Close,” she demands, —and you do, suckling on the heat of her hand, eyes scaling up to her face.
She seems much too delighted by this, albeit in a subdued sense of the word. There’s always been an air of cockiness about her, but this really took the cake and ran with it, like she was so proud to have suckered you in even this deep. It’s then that you’re forced to question whether this is some kind of sick joke, or if she’s truly just that bored here in the clinical wing. It’s obviously not her favorite place to be, but doing all of this on the clock to make the time pass by faster is a little bit of a stretch, even for someone like her.
Moira glides her thumb to and fro, watching the way your lips move with her, still clasped around her digit so beautifully. She thinks to herself that you really are just such a pretty girl.
“Aren’t you just a sweet, obedient thing?” She muses, finally letting her lips curve upward completely.
You hum instinctively, and she can feel the vibration as it resonates from the back of your throat.
“Oh?” She cocks her head to the side, raising a single eyebrow, “was that meant to be defiant? Or perhaps just a correction, —that you’re only this malleable for me?”
She loves the way you look so dazed by every word she speaks, like you’re trying to interpret a foreign language. You’re so mystified by her very presence this close up, as if you can’t decide if she’s real or not.
Eventually, Moira decides she’s had enough and utters “open” again, to which you comply quickly, letting her thumb make its way out from between your lips. Ever the inquisitive woman, she rubs her thumb against her index finger, tapping them together, letting your leftover saliva string between them.
“Y/n,” she murmurs, turning that duel-colored stare directly on you so intently, “—don’t play so coy. There comes a time when every woman must stop begging for the things she desires, and I’m tired of your eyes begging for what your mouth refuses to ask of me.”
Your lips part now, brain convinced you have a solid idea of what you’re supposed to be requesting of her. Though your head is still swimming and a part of you just knows you’re better off leaving things here, as they are, you’re only human. . . So you let your shaky hands come up to grasp at the fabric of her partially unbuttoned shirt, and you pull her inward, not once, but twice, until her face is so close to yours that you’re practically sharing the same breath.
There’s a pause when you don’t make the final move to kiss her, half expecting that she’d have taken over by now, but she offers a low chuckle and snakes a hand up her torso, grasping at your own. It’s gentle for a moment —but only for a moment— before she forces your grip away in a single motion, the other hand wrapping around your free wrist, and pinning either of your hands down against the examination table.
“Go on,” she presses, “stop being so polite. Take what it is we both know you want. Do lions ask nicely before they tear their prey apart?”
You wonder which one you’re supposed to be in this scenario, —the lion or the prey. With the way she’s staring at you, you get the feeling it’s the latter. . .
Closer, closer, you lean, until Moira’s mouth is barely touching your own in a sort of off-handed, almost kiss that isn’t quite coming to fruition. Your neck is craned as far as your body will allow, and you feel the little tuft of amused breath that passes her nostrils ghost against your skin.
“You really are just incredibly novel, did you know that?” She asks, pressure increasing on your pinned down wrists as she finally goes in for the kill.
Her lips are surprisingly soft, and slightly sticky from the remnants of her off-orange lipstick. Even the way she kisses you commands a certain level of respect, and you hope to honor that by keeping up, letting your body react naturally to any and all of her ministrations. When her tongue slips into your mouth, you hardly startle at the feeling, letting her lick and taste as she pleases. The way she does so is like she can’t get enough, —and it crosses your mind very briefly that you may be the first person she’s come on to in quite a while.
Her job is demanding, and overwhelmingly isolating, after all. ..
Having stained your lips enough, both with her bruising kisses and the tangerine-ajacent cosmetics on her mouth, she pulls away for the briefest of moments, only to descend upon your neck like it was glazen with sugar. You can’t help the little gasp that escapes you, or the soft moan that follows, —or the way your hand reaches up to bury the fingers in those fiery strands of hair now that hers are no longer pinning yours down.
“Moira,” you hiss lightly, “—ah.”
Under any other circumstances, you’d have never uttered her name so plainly in lieu of her title, but with the way she was wearing you thin and prying you open with such apparent ease, you doubted she’d care much if you stepped over a line previously drawn in the sand. As far as you could tell, you were already lost at sea anyhow.
It’s not much of anything, but you feel her smirk against your skin, then murmur: “She does speak.”
You’re on fire, inside and out, burning up so badly you fear there’ll be nothing left but ashes by the time she’s finished with you. Silently, you think it might be best for you to put a stop to this before it ends up going too far; before each of you are drowning so deep there’s no way to break the surface. Your lips part, ready to put an end to it all, —knowing you should. . . But you can’t. Not when she looks you over like you really are just her prey for the taking, for the feasting, the devouring.
“Darling,” she murmurs, tracing the back of her finger down your cheek, caressing you softly, “don’t be so shy. Learn to take what you want without pleading.”
Even then, it’s less of a suggestion and more of a subtle demand.
“I—” you start, but swallow just as quickly.
Sucking in a breath, you let your hands do the talking, gracing the flushed skin of her neck, then ghosting just above her sharp collar bones that peak out from her unbuttoned blouse. Before you have the wherewithal to tell yourself to stop, your shaky fingers begin fiddling with the rest of the clasps, going further down until you see the top of her bra (a simple, black garment, in true Moira fashion.) There’s something so stunning about the way colors lie against her, as if melding into her flesh, bending to her will.
She doesn’t stop you from unfastening the buttons, revealing more of her as you continue downward. She’s got no complaints to utter, no reservations present in her body language, and she sheds the top entirely when the last one has come undone. Moira takes a step back, tossing her shirt onto the small countertop, one of the sleeves dangling over into the sink. You take her fleeting absence from your body as an opportunity to admire her, —the sharp, almost jagged edges she carries around like swords. She’s so tall and slender, so striking in the way she moves as if everything is calculated and she doesn’t doubt for a moment that the world is ready to mold to her every wish and whim.
“Something to say?” She cocks a brow, tone smooth and almost melodic, that hint of an Irish accent clinging to every word.
Your mouth still feels dry, but you force yourself to say what’s on your mind, —even at the risk of coming across like some lovesick schoolgirl.
“I just think you’re pretty,” you answer.
Her lips quirk into another smirk at the compliment, and she runs a hand through her hair, letting you admire the motion.
“That’s very kind of you to say,” she replies.
It didn’t feel kind when you said it, really. . . It just felt true.
“Come,” she beckons, coaxing you off the exam table and closer to the wall, pressing your back against it.
It’s cold to the touch, but it does little to quench the fire still roaring in your guts. What’s more, you’re not entirely sure you want it to stop now anyway. From the corner of your eye, you can see one of Moira’s lengthy arms reach out to tap the middle of the doorknob with a long-nailed finger, popping the lock into place. You assume that signifies a sealed deal of sorts. . . That there’s no going back now; and heaven knows you’re not trying to.
Moira’s hands find their way to your waist, pressing firmly for a bit as she kisses you again; albeit somewhat slower and more intimately than before. It feels more like the kind of kiss you’d give a lover to show affection than one you’d throw at a midday fling. There’s little time to dwell on the thought, however, as she snakes herself between your thighs, dancing over the fabric of your dress pants.
Your breathing hitches a little at the feeling, your skin heating up, and Moira grins to herself before letting her fingers trail upward and curl inward, grabbing at your sweater. Untucking it from your pants, the elder woman pulls it up, looks to you for approval, then finishes the job as she yanks it over your head and tosses it back onto the examination table. The crinkly paper shuffles for a moment, and the sound is almost thunderous over the duet of breaths and heartbeats across the room.
She murmurs something about how lovely you are that you don’t quite catch, —but the real compliment comes from the way her eyes trace across your body, soaking up every inch so earnestly.
When you reach behind her slim back, fiddling with the clasp of her bra, she gives a hum of amusement.
“Eager one, aren’t you?” She asks, voice dripping with the only kind of condescension that tastes so sweet.
“I can’t help it,” you breathe quickly, almost in embarrassment, but still lacking the humility it would have otherwise carried.
You manage to tear the clasp open and the straps on her shoulders slump off. Moira readily tugs them down and sheds the last garment on her upper half, letting your eyes rake over the slight curve of her breasts. They’re not large by any means, but they suit her body so nicely, sitting perfectly on her chest with pinkish nipples you can’t help but think about clasping your mouth around.
She seems pleasantly surprised when you make the first move to do just that, even placing a long-nailed hand on the back of your head, guiding you to her body. As you offer a lick to the left one with the flat of your saliva-laden tongue, she lets out a soft breath, stroking your hair softly as if to encourage you to keep going. You do as she silently asks, parting your lips again and taking her in your mouth, suckling on one, then giving the same attention to the other. She seems to like the way you swirl your tongue, so you do it again, and again, and again, until Moira decides that this just isn’t suiting her fancy any longer.
“Good girl,” she mumbles, even when she’s pushing you away and tugging your bra off with ease.
This time, she doesn’t bother tossing the article of clothing onto the exam table behind her, she simply lets it hit the ground to join her own. Thankfully, the sanitation of the labs, and subsequently the clinical wing, has always been solid as can be.
With a clawed hand, she covers your mouth and keeps your head pinned back against the wall, ducking down to repay the favor. She takes her time reaching your breasts, but it’s hard to mind when she’s busy sucking love bites in a trail down your neck and upper chest. She bites your shoulder, feels you moan against her palm, then does it again to draw the sound from your throat once more.
When she finally takes a single nipple between her teeth, the sensation alone has you seeing stars. Her mouth is so wet and warm, so surprisingly inviting, and she’s so skilled with every little flick. Her free hand works what her mouth doesn’t, careful not to scratch or jab you with her nails. She stays attached for much longer than she allowed you to be, and it crosses your mind that Moira may not be much into the whole receiving end of things. Whatever the case, she looks too pretty like this, with her mouth leaving the rest of her faint lipstick around your nipples and on the column of your neck, for you to think too much of it (or be disappointed by it.)
You really couldn’t tell if all this passion and fervor was born of spite against Angela for setting this clinic up in the first place and making Moira work in it, the general frustration of being away from her own endeavors for so long today, the pent up ardor releasing after a dry spell, —or maybe some mixture of all of that and then some. Whatever the case, Moira wasn’t skimping on a single detail, and you were going to be the last person on the face of the planet to complain about that.
As she unbuttoned your pants and began to tug them down, allowing them to cling around your thighs, you were quick to take over and shed your own clothing at her silent demand. You were thankful you’d worn open-toed heels that day, knowing it wouldn’t have been as sexy if you’d had to have taken the time to slip your socks off during this little process. Moira doesn’t make any moves to mimic you, instead resigning herself to watching and holding herself back from touching.
When everything’s shed, you unconsciously cover yourself with your arms a bit, not necessarily to hide away from her gaze, but out of little more than whatever few shreds of humility you have left.
“Don’t be bashful,” she says firmly, grasping each of your wrists and planting your arms at your sides.
The transition back to the table feels like a blur, —a rush of so much at once that your mind goes a little foggy and the sound of that damn crinkly paper being pushed back to the top, along with the stray clothes, hardly registers above the ache in your core and the coolness of the floor beneath your bare feet. She instructs you to sit, and you do, and when she tells you to come closer to the edge and spread your legs, you do that as well.
“You’re so obedient,” she comments with a half-smile, trailing a finger down the barren skin of your inner thigh, sending shivers across your skin. “We could use more employees like you around here.”
A part of you can’t help but hope, in the moment, that those people never come around, that they never land positions in the lab, just so this endeavor can be your burden to carry alone. This side of Moira is still intimidating, but there’s a softness to be found in the way she looks at you, the way she mumbles little compliments against your skin, —the way she treats you like you’re made of something fragile.
She parts your lips with two of her long fingers, taking a moment to admire the way arousal has slicked your folds up so beautifully. It’s been a while since she’s seen firsthand the impact she can have on a woman, and your wetness strokes her ego more than it probably should have.
The moment the flat of her tongue pressed against you, your toes curled inward and your head fell back, a few breathy moans making your chest stutter. Through half-lidded eyes, you could only watch in bliss as Moira glanced up at you, her mouth suctioned around your needy little cunt, feeling every twitch and licking up every bit of juice.
“Oh my God,” you huff, reaching forward with one hand to grasp at Moira’s hair.
She seems to like the way you vocalize, and the way you grab at her like it’s something natural, even when it really isn’t. Her tongue works in circles, then lines, then a million other shapes and directions in a single moment, and you feel your body quiver from the tension.
A part of you feels pathetic, but it really can’t be helped that she’s already pushed you to the edge. Weeks of work had given you little time to yourself, and what time you had managed had been spent sleeping, eating, or trying to catch up on things you enjoyed in your personal life. Taking care of your more intimate needs just hadn’t really entered the equation as of late, but now all of that build-up was really showing its true colors (and so quickly at that.)
“I—” you suck in a breath, “I’m gonna cum—”
And she reaches around from the top, her arm hooked under your left thigh, pressing the pad of her thumb ever so carefully against your swollen clit.
You toss your head back and bite your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Your free hand grasps for one of your breasts, pinching a nipple between your fingers, letting her drive that stake in so fucking deep that you can feel your insides melting away into ecstasy. Her thumb massaging your clit, her tongue swirling around just below, and the utter depravity of having sex with your boss’s most disgruntled co-worker leaves you cumming on her face, muscles releasing all their tension and melding away into this fantasy world with her.
Oh, but she’s not done, —because of course she’s not. The quiver in your thighs isn’t steady enough, and she hasn’t felt you clench around her fingers, hasn’t felt you tug on her hair hard enough to rip some of the strands from her scalp, hasn’t quite had her fill of you just yet.
Moira brings her hand to her mouth, tearing the middle two nails off with her teeth and spitting them onto the ground beside the examination table. That’s probably a lot hotter than it should be right now, but there’s something about the way she tugs them off so effortlessly, grasping them between her canines, that has your core sopping at the sight of it.
“Just lay back,” she requests.
You do, without question, and you hear her offer up a low chuckle that resonates from the back of her throat.
“You’d just do anything I asked of you, wouldn’t you?” She asks, amusement clinging to every word.
“Yeah, probably,” you reply breathily, —and perhaps a bit too honestly.
But she likes that.
Moira pushes your thighs apart like they’re less so parts of your body and more so obstacles getting in the way of what she wants. She stands to her full height for a moment or two, but her back curves downward and she lowers herself over top of you as she flips her hand palm-side up and sinks those two de-nailed fingers inside your cunt. Your accumulated wetness allows for such an easy entrance, and she pauses for a moment at the hilt of her hand to relish in the way your walls thrub around her digits, almost pulsating, begging for more.
If there’s ever been something Moira has been happy to comply with, —it was this. She lets you adjust, but just barely so, and then pulls back a bit, letting the friction elicit a few soft moans from you.
“Fuck,” you whimper, eyes rolling back a bit, cunt clenching around Moira’s lengthy fingers, the ones she knows how to work so well inside you.
It once again seems like every move she makes is calculated and precise, evoking something so primal inside you, unleashing some kind of desirous beast that just can’t get enough of her.
And there you are on this uncomfortable exam table in this God forsaken clinical wing that neither you nor Moira have ever been very fond of, bare back pressed against the weirdly textured leather, dripping and convulsing around the lecherous fingers of the same woman you’ve heard nothing but complaints about from your boss since you first began working under her. You’re sure that if Doctor Ziegler could see you now, she’d have you fired on the spot, —and something about that makes this so much fucking hotter.
You’re whimpering at every touch, so vulnerable for her eyes only. She prods at every inch of your insides she can touch, moving her fingers in time with every little noise that’s ripped from your throat, leaving you moaning like a slut in heat; and the cycle continues until your body has just had more than enough.
“Moira, I—” a breath cuts you off, nails scraping against that odd-feeling leather beneath you. “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, holy shit—”
She doesn’t stop. She wouldn’t even dream of it when you’re begging like that, when the pretty pussy she’s hammering out with two fingers is just begging for every ounce of her desire and attention.
The knot inside you unravels, and she basks in the way you spasm around her digits, back arching up off the table. Moira lets you ride it out before slipping out, drawing a few lines up and down your glistening slit before pulling her hand away and reaching for the paper towl dispenser that hangs on the wall. She pats her hand dry and silently collects the clothes strewn about the room.
It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but you manage to redress without making a fool of yourself.
“A word of advice,” Moira finally speaks, “you’re a good time, and I’m sure an adaquate employee, —but acting isn’t much your forte. Next time Angela sends you here to spy on me, spare me the pleasantries and let’s just skip to the good part.”
You can feel your ears burning, but you force a nod anyway.
“Yes, Doctor.”
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hii i love your writing so much i cannot even function❤️!! do you think you can write about reader having an attitude which ellie HATES and then reader mumbles smth like “then get rid of it” and ellie hears so she fucks the attitude out of reader w her strap🤭🤭
OMGOGMGOGM absofuckinglutely
This was sm fun to write Ty anon!!!!
warnings: overstim, pet names (babe, baby), ellie going craycray w it
ellie was sick of you.
not you as a person per say, but that damn attitude you had all day long. it was bothering her.
to begin, you had woken up late. not that it’s her fault, ellie tried to get you up when you had asked but you just flat out refused. that seemed to kickstart a day full of sassy remarks, quips, eye rolling, and “whatever you wanna do, I don’t care.”
the last straw for ellie was dinner.
“hey babe, how was class?” she said as you walked in the door.
“fine. professor martindale is still a bitch. what’s all this?” you asked flatly. ellie furrowed her brows with slight annoyance.
“i made us dinner since i know you’ve had a bad day.” ellie matched your tone in her response, the pot of your favorite soup still warm on the stove.
“what’s with your attitude all of a sudden?” you asked, setting your things down.
“oh?? you wanna talk about me? i should be asking you that. all day long, all you’ve been doing is snapping at me. i love you, but i do not love that attitude.”
you sighed. “damn, then get rid of it.”
“what was that?”
ellie stepped closer to you.
“nothin’ ellie. thanks for dinner.”
“i think you and I both know what you said.” she replied, her calloused finger hooking on the belt loop of your jeans and pulling you closer.
“i think i know just how to put a stop to this nasty behavior of yours.”
and stop it she did.
ellie thrusted into you relentlessly, her strong hand pushing your upper back into the mattress.
you were a mess beneath her, incoherent apologies and curses falling from your lips repeatedly. she was hitting it nonstop and-fuck-!
“m’sorry!” you screamed as ellie brought her hand to your stomach, pressing hard on your lower abdomen and pulling your hips into her.
“yeah? you’re sorry? you learned your lesson?” ellie grunted out, the base of her strap creating delicious friction on her clit.
you moaned in response, desperately trying to get away from her relentless pace, it was too much, it felt too good.
“im sorry!”
“see baby, this is all you need,” her hand moved down and began rubbing your puffy clit, “a good-fuck-a good dicking down. cmon babe, yeah, cum all on my dick.” ellie said, watching you get closer to your peak.
“so sweet now that im filling you up…” she grunted, and you came for the maybe 7th time? you had lost count.
you cried her name out, body trembling like a leaf as your orgasm ripped through your body. your legs clamped shut over hers, holding her hips to you.
“please please-i can’t-ellie please!” you sobbed.
“im sorry, baby. i just hate when you have such an attitude, i got rid of it the only way i know.” ellie said, pulling out and slowly helping your hips relax into the bed.
“it won’t happen ‘mgain.” you mumbled. you lay there, twitching occasionally, absolutely fucked out and in bliss.
.she absolutely would do this though?? it’s canon??
#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie x you#tlou ellie x reader#tlou2#ellie x fem reader#ellie tlou
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Malleus and Yuu on a late night walk, Malleus asks to take them into the forest and they go with him, He takes them to a clearing where he (When I say He I mean him his father and two brothers because he had no idea what he was doin HJAAJFA) Set up a pretty place for him to give them something special for valentines and probably ask them out. Ty!
Clumsy in Love
author note: sorry for the wait! i forgot how much i love writing for Malleus, you can't tell me you don't think hanging out with this guy wouldn't be incredibly amusing, he's just so goofy and clueless. also Diasomnia family shenanigans ofc, with a teeny lil bonus at the end (⌒ω⌒) enjoy!
characters: Malleus Draconia x GN!Reader
“I don’t approve of this…” Sebek grumbled as he glared out at the picnic that he, Lilia and Silver had laid out, candles flickering and cushions ruffling softly in the breeze. The only reason he had lent his assistance was because his Master deserved only the best! … And because Lilia had requested his aid, and he’d never refuse an order from Master Lilia! Sebek assisted and distracted Lilia with setting out the picnic whilst Silver handled all food preparation, to ensure that the food in the picnic basket was actually edible. Sebek felt a thump against his thigh, and he looked down only to see a pair of binoculars… That had slipped from Silver’s fingers… Who had dozed off…
“SILVER!! AWAKEN THIS INSTANT!!” Sebek thundered, only to be shushed by Lilia as Silver slowly regained consciousness, muttering an apology as he took hold of the binoculars once again. “Keep it down, Sebek. They’ll be here soon, and we don’t want them to spot us.” Lilia scolded as he fussed over the finishing touches of the picnic, “perhaps the picnic would have been lovelier if I had time to make a pie… I just thought of a new recipe for a healthy pie the other night, perhaps I have time to—”
“They’re coming!” Silver hissed, and all three of them ducked down behind the bushes, peeking out to see if their picnic would be a success…
You smiled up at Malleus as you walked beside him, telling him about your day as he listened patiently. Nightly jaunts with Malleus had become somewhat of a common occurrence, becoming a good way for you to destress before bed but also to see your ever elusive friend, who you never seemed to spot around campus. Malleus was always happy to listen to you chat away, even if you were complaining about classwork or telling crazy stories about what you and your friends had been getting up to recently. You weren’t sure when your feelings from him switched from intrigue and friendship to something more affectionate, but you often found yourself gazing affectionately at his back when he led the way on your evening walks and feeling your cheeks heat up when he listened to your stories so intently. You had decided to keep your feelings bottled, convinced that there was no way that Malleus would return your feelings, as eccentric and aloof that he was. He probably saw you as nothing more than a friend that he met on his late-night walks, nothing more. And you were fine with pining, happy to just settle with the precious time you had together on your walks.
Malleus had pulled ahead slightly as he led the way through the forest, and you followed as usual. You pulled your eyes off of Malleus’ back to look around at your surroundings, beginning to notice how the foliage looked different from the route the two of you usually took on your walk, the trees slowly begin to thin out and the foliage becoming sparser the further you walked.
“Is this different from our usual path?” You asked Malleus, quickening your steps so you could walk beside him so the two of you could converse easier. “So it is.” Malleus responded as he continued onwards, not seeming at all perturbed by your words. His vague response made you think this was deliberate, and your suspicions were confirmed when he spoke up again, “I wanted to take you somewhere different today, somewhere more special. I hope you will like it.”
Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, and you peeked up at his face in an attempt to gauge his expression, but Malleus was as aloof as ever. A thousand scenarios ran through your head as your blood sang in anticipation, but you quickly quashed these feelings, refusing to get ahead of yourself. It wasn’t like that, you two were just friends, you told yourself sternly as you smiled up at Malleus. “Oh, how exciting! I’m looking forward to it!” You chirped to him, being rewarded by his kind smile as he looked down at you but didn’t comment further, and you continued on as Malleus led the way.
Eventually, the trees thinned out fully and you stepped out into a clearing dotted with wildflowers, with a beautiful view of the night sky. You were so absorbed with the beauty of the night sky, shining stars that winked at you from their perches, that you missed what lay waiting for you until you heard Malleus hum thoughtfully and turned to look over in interest. You gasped at what you saw – a lovely picnic had been set out; an idyllic wooden basket set atop a checked picnic blanket, several cushions lining each side of the blanket with blankets folded neatly beside them. Candles were spread around the clearing, adding a gentle ambience to the clearing and as if on cue, hundreds of little fireflies began to float into the clearing, bobbing and weaving around you and Malleus as you stared at the scene in surprise.
“Malleus, this is… This is amazing…” You managed to say, almost at a loss for words as you took in the charming scene before you, taking a few steps further into the clearing. “Indeed.” Malleus agreed, looking just as surprised as you did. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded the scene before him with intrigue. Suddenly, he began to laugh, smooth baritone ringing out through the clearing as he too took several steps closer to the picnic. “Perhaps this eve truly is fortuitous if such a site has manifested here tonight.” Malleus declared, a smile etched on his face as he turned to you, holding his hand out for you, “Come, Y/N. Sit with me.”
You felt your cheeks heat up despite yourself and after a moment of mental blankness, you quickly took Malleus’ hand and allowed him to lead you to the picnic, taking your seat on one side of the blanket as Malleus ensured that you were seated comfortable before taking his own spot on the opposite side to you. You felt your heart racing as you looked everywhere but at Malleus, knowing that your cheeks had flushed with colour and your demeanour becoming much shyer. You tried to take a deep breath and free your head of these thoughts, thoughts that maybe Malleus felt the same way about you, that he’d set this entire scene up specifically to confess to you, to—
“Y/N.”
You jumped, not realising how deeply you had fell into your thoughts as you finally plucked up the courage to look at Malleus, only to see him holding out a glass filled with reddish-purple liquid. “Grape juice, a refreshing evening beverage.” Malleus commented as he handed the glass to you, the brushing of your fingers speeding up your heartbeat again despite all your efforts to calm it down. “Thanks…” You responded with a shy smile, your eyes wandering to watch the fireflies that floated around the clearing.
You were so intent on keeping your eyes averted from Malleus that you completely missed how he gazed at you, admiring your beauty and how the light from the candles and fireflies surrounded you in an ethereal glow. In his eyes, your beauty was otherworldly, and he was captivated, the urge to treasure you and stow you away as the most precious part of his hoard growing with every cherished walk that he took with you. He knew that that couldn’t happen, that you were not an item to be claimed, but oh how his draconic instincts called to him, urging him to claim you before anyone else swept you off your feet. The box in his pocket felt heavy all of a sudden against his thigh, the weight of this proposal hanging over him as he slipped his hand into his pocket and hide the box in his palm, steeling himself to confess his overflowing devotion to you.
“Y/N, I have something to ask you, if you would do me the pleasure of lending me your ear…”
BONUS:
“He’s doing it, he’s doing it!”
“Hush father, if you keep bouncing like that, you’re going to get us caught!”
“How dare you tell Master Lilia to hush, Silver!”
“Ssssssh Sebek!”
“Inside voices, Sebek.”
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst malleus#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia x y/n#malleus x reader#malleus x y/n#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x y/n
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right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 6
You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend, Zuko. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7
hellooo part 6 oo we're in book 2 territory now... also i am changing stuff to fit my character into this world so just be open to those changes plzzz i do not own these characters and they are not mine! i hope you guys are liking the story so far! I'm so excited I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do when book 3 comes around... rmr to like reblog or comment, i truly want to know ur thoughts because this is my first fic so i hope I'm doing a good job. thank you to everyone who has supported it so far!! even if its 17 ppl idc like that's 17 individuals who bother to read what i write so... thank you!! enjoy >.< about 2000 words
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It was a day like the others, the year before Ozai’s unfair punishment. I’d go to the Royal Palace after school to play or practice, whichever we felt like.
When Zuko and I opened the door that led to the duck pond, his little sister, Azula, was already there with her friends, Ty Lee and Mai.
Azula’s already proven to be ruthless for a 10-year-old. She’s constantly reminding Zuko of his ‘failure’ to live up to the responsibility of Fire Lord just because he’s not as vicious as her. In this home, they favored brutality over honor, and if you know Zuko, he’s all honor. Even at twelve years old, you can tell he won’t grow to be like his father before him and it’s a problem.
She’s only gotten worse since their mother disappeared 2 years ago. No one knows the specifics, but Azula says their grandfather ordered the Fire Lord to kill Zuko and she never lets him forget it.
As we walk toward our usual spot, the little girl comes up to us.
“Zuzu, come play with us!” she says with a hint of mischief in her voice.
“No! I’m busy.” Zuko replies, brushing her off. We continue walking to reach the other side of the pasture, far away from his sister and her friends.
“Fine.” With Azula, fine isn’t just fine. It’s code for I’ll get you somehow.
But I try to keep my thoughts about her to myself. She is younger than us and I’m not scared of her. It’s Zuko she doesn’t see as a threat. As for me, she’s known not to push it. Since we all have the same fire-bending master, she’s well aware I’m better than the both of them.
When we reach our spot, we sit to take our swords from their sheaths. Today it’s blades, yesterday it was bending. We almost forget Azula’s in our vicinity when Mai comes crashing down onto Zuko, making her blush.
Mai is a year younger than us, and she’s always had this crush on him. Everyone knows. I know.
But unlike Azula, I don’t humiliate her with the fact. Even if the thought of Zuko returning the feelings makes me uncomfortable.
Mai quickly gets up and apologizes for stumbling on top of him and Zuko, in all his emotional glory, yells at his sister. “Stop it! It’s not funny.”
She grins with her arms folded. “Oh, but it is, dumb-dumb. I told you to play with me!”
“That’s not how you get people to play with you!” I stand up for him, knowing it’s a losing battle if he’s all alone in his defense.
“Whatever.” She replies and focuses her attention on Ty Lee’s handstand. Probably thinking of a way to ruin that too.
It’s clear we won’t be left alone to spar in peace.
“Want to go to my room?” He asks. Familiar amber eyes gazing into mine.
Butterflies appear in my stomach. I’ve been to his room thousands of times, millions if it was possible. It wasn’t abnormal. But lately, I can’t stop these stupid bugs.
My feelings for my best friend are changing, I just hope his are too.
“Sure.”
A few weeks have passed since the failed ambush of the Northern Water Tribe by the Fire Nation. Admiral Zhao is presumed dead, and the empire retreated. They were long gone, and this loss was too shameful to ever attempt something like it again.
Though, the adrenaline from the win would be nothing compared to the loss felt by the masses. We lost some people, rebuilding was commencing, and the tribe had lost their princess. The Chief had lost his daughter.
While it pained Sokka and I to inform him of the news, what he said in return brought peace to all of us. He said he had a vision of a beautiful young woman sacrificing her life for her people and it wasn’t until that fateful day that he knew it was his daughter. Warmth embraced us all after he spoke. What better way to show your love for your people than to become the moon itself? It was bittersweet. To know she couldn’t walk with us but be with us wherever we go on planet Earth.
If only I knew how I felt about encountering Zuko for the first time in three years.
I honestly didn’t know what to think, act, or be. It all happened so fast.
Having to save Aang in the middle of our encounter distracted me long enough. Letting down the Chief and Yue becoming the moon spirit distracted me long enough. Hell, seeing Iroh for the first time in a while distracted me long enough. But eventually, the dust settles and there’s nothing but his face in my thoughts.
His hair is different, and he looks… sharper around the edges. He’s stronger and his bending is different than before, more determined and intentional. He seems tired.
I replay our interaction in my head multiple times a day, sometimes in my dreams. Each time, I think about what I could have said instead. Other times he doesn’t strike me in the ribs. But then I wake up or come back to reality and the scar of his burn on my side reminds me: he’s no longer my Zuko.
I mourn the gentle boy I once knew.
All our good moments flash through my mind like an orchestrated play. Growing up together. Elementary memories of playing and later, practicing our sparring and bending together. Silent moments where we both sat and stared as the sun painted orange across the sky, once we were done for the day. Being the first person we looked for at a royal party and feeling relief when our eyes locked together, assuring that we won’t spend the night bored out of our minds. Silly things I didn’t think I’d miss so much.
But it was hard to feel bad for him when he was someone else entirely.
I shouldn’t have, but I took it easy on him. I thought there was some sort of silent agreement that we would never hurt each other, like when we were sparring. But at some point in time, practice became fighting, and nobody told me.
I spent three years thinking about this exact moment and I never once thought we’d be on two different sides of this war.
It was different for him, I suppose. He stopped practicing the moment Ozai told him to get up and fight.
The swirl of feelings dizzied me, going from I hate him to I missed him. From where is he? to I think I could find him if I tried.
But I don’t know how that would land on Aang, Katara, and Sokka.
Zuko’s been terrorizing them since Aang came out of the ice, before they crossed paths with Jet and me. I’m not even sure how they feel about my past with their first enemy. I’ll make a note to ask later.
I’ve been in my head the entire time we went through the cave of two lovers. I think some badger moles got us out and the nomads went their own way once we made it through.
Apparently, we’re heading to Omashu so Aang can learn earth-bending from his old friend, King Bumi.
Sokka’s catching me up to speed, but his voice sounds like it could be a thousand miles away from my mind. “It’s pretty cool, I didn’t really like being trapped and thinking I was going to die but that’s not the point- Hey, are you okay?” He grabs my elbow and stops us in our tracks. His eyes look into mine, looking for me.
He shares a glance with Katara that prompts her to say, “Let's take a break from walking, guys. Aang, c'mon I think I see some water. I want to see what you know before you become an earth-bender.”
“Okay!” The young Avatar replies, eager for alone time with his favorite person. They smile at me before leaving, and I feel left out of a certain loop.
Once they’re far away enough, I reply to Sokka’s question. “I’m okay, why?”
“You’ve just been off… since the invasion.” He scratches the back of his neck as he confesses his concerns.
“It was a lot, I mean. Yue—”
“I know, but you’ve pulled away from all of us.” Almost shyly, he continues, “From me.”
“Oh.”
“But we all want to know if you’re okay.” He hurries to add.
“I’ve been thinking about some stuff is all.” I let out a sigh, a poor attempt at trying to let go of what’s bothering me. “I just hadn’t seen him in a long time. And when I do, he’s fighting me.” I look down at my boots, begging for the dry dirt to become quicksand. My cheeks are getting hot and the familiar knot in my throat is forming. This is why I didn’t want to talk about it.
“Yeah, he does that.” Sokka scoffs. “He’s a jerk. He can be mean to us, I get it! The Avatar and everything. But being mean to you was unnecessary.”
The knot in my throat quickly forms into a tone that’s harsher than I mean it. “Was it?” Sokka’s taken aback and instantly, I’m regretful for it. “Sorry… I don’t know what I feel.”
I investigate his icy stare and for the first time, I feel the distance I’ve put between us. Unfortunately, I think it’s there to stay.
He raises his hands in defense, “I get it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you like him?” I finally understand what he’s been saying. Why he wanted to talk. He wanted to talk about us and how Zuko fits into that equation.
“No—I… uh...” the words leave me.
“I see.”
"That's not a confession."
"Then say no."
“Does it matter?” I ask, becoming irritated with his attitude.
“Does it?” Sokka’s stern voice rarely makes an appearance, but when it does, it surprises me. Leave it to Zuko to cause an argument when he’s not even here.
Before I can answer, Katara and Aang return, looking chippier than we do.
“Break’s over?” she asks us, furrowing her brows as she takes in our body language.
“Yeah, it’s over.” Sokka huffs and walks away, leading us to our destination.
☆
With Sokka guiding us, he proudly gestures towards the Earth Kingdom land. “Ladies and gentlemen, the city of Omashu!” When I finally intake what they’ve all been talking about, I know what we see isn’t what they were describing.
“Oh no.” Aang says for all of us.
The fire emblems are too loud to ignore. Omashu’s been occupied.
☆
As the four of us stand in our fight mode, ready to negotiate Bumi for the Mayor’s baby boy, I see three girls in the distance. I see her first.
My heart drops down to my core, the way it did when I first saw Zuko after all these years. Just when I thought the reunions were over, the universe shows me exactly what it is I ran away from. Finally, after all this time, I have to face what I did.
“No.” I mumble.
“What?” Aang asks. They all turn to me. Now that they know who I am, they know I must know whoever is coming to negotiate on the empire’s behalf.
I should have known it would be Mai, but her little brother was not born when I last saw her. When we all went to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.
I don’t have enough time to warn them, you never do when she’s involved.
“It’s Azula.”
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tag list <3: @camilleverreault @staygoldsquatchling02
#atla#avatar#aang#avatar the last airbender#atla zuko#fire lord zuko#prince zuko#reader x zuko#reader x prince zuko#firebender!reader#zuko fanart#zuko#atla fanart#atla art#sokka#zuko x reader#atla zuko x reader#prince zuko x reader#sokka atla#sokka avatar the last airbender#aang x reader#atla fanfic#atla katara
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Falling/Tripping in front of TR men!
Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Baji, soft!Hanma, soft!Kisaki
Content: fluff, name calling
Don't steal my posts
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Mikey:
"Mikey- ah!" You yelped when a child suddenly ran across you, causing you to fall backwards. You landed on your back and luckily not on your head. He quickly ran towards you, helping you up and looking for the child. The little kid came towards you and started saying apologies. "I'm sorry, miss. I didn't see you, I'm very sorry." They said while bowing. You patted their back and you shushed Mikey when he was about to open his mouth. "Now run along, little one." You said while they walked away slowly. You looked up at Mikey as he stared at you. "Did you just, silence me in front of a kid?" He asked while holding dorayaki in his hands. "I knew what you were about to say so I did" he huffed at your response while walking away angrily.
Draken:
"Y/n, let's grab some drinks later," he said while smiling. You nodded as you walked along a path, you stumbled and almost tripped but Draken caught you. "Whoa, easy there." He said, a shit-eating grin covered his face as he was about to laugh at your clumsiness. He tried to keep in a giggle or two but eventually let it spill out. "Ken~!!" You whined while hitting his chest playfully. You pouted and crossed your arms as you watched Draken laugh to himself. His hands on his knees as he snickered at your face. "Alright let's go, be careful." He said before kissing your forehead and tugging your hand before following him to get drinks. He needed that water after laughing anyway.
Mitsuya:
You and Mitsuya were having fun at the beach, sun tanning, building sandcastles and walking along the shore. You were walking next to Mitsuya and caught up talking about nothing and everything, he loved listening to your stories and engaging in them. Just then, some random guy behind you ran and hit your shoulder. Causing you to fall into the sand as he shouted "Watch where you're going, cupcake!" His pathetic, lame friends laughing with him. Mitsuya quickly helped you up and rolled his eyes. "Those jerks." He mumbled before asking you if you were okay and checking you were fine before going back home.
Baji:
"Kei, let's go. We'll be late to the party." You said while tugging at Baji's sleeve. "Okay, stop nagging me. You're not my mom." He said while rolling his eyes and tying his hair. Whilst he got ready, you stood behind him. Staring everything he did, watching him spray the cologne on his neck and pushing the strands of short hair behind his neck. "Let's go," he said while looking at you from the mirror. As you were walking to the car in your heels, you suddenly tripped and fell into Baji's arms. "What's wrong, princess?" He chuckles to himself as your face flushed a bright pink. You started giggling as you lifted yourself from his arms. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him. He kissed you and smiled against your lips. "We should really go now." You said.
Hanma:
"Baby, go grab me a glass of water. Won't ya?" He asked as you got up from his lap. As you were trying to reach the top cabinet, you tripped and fell on your arms. Looking at your bruised arms, Shuji quickly came over and knelt down. "Are you okay? Are your arms okay?" He said while trying to keep you from crying. "It's okay, doll. It wasn't your fault," he said while massaging the bruises. Causing you to wince in pain before letting some tears fall. "It hurts, shuji." You whimper as he rubbed soothing circles on your thigh lovingly.
Kisaki:
You were done taking a shower when you were taking your towel, you slipped and fell on your back. Kisaki rushed into the bathroom quickly only to find you naked on the floor. Lying down on the ground, you quickly lifted your self up. "Kisaki, I thought you were at work." You said while grabbing a towel for yourself. He quickly came to assist you, rubbing your back and checking for any marks left behind. "I came home early," he replied, "Your back is okay, though the only marks left should be marked by me."
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EVERY LIKE AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED
#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev fluff#scenario#kisaki x reader#kisaki imagines#kisaki tetta#kisaki x you#tr kisaki#baji x reader#baji scenarios#tr draken#tr baji#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers toman#tokyo revengers kisaki#tokrev baji#tokrev#tokyorev x yn#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyorev fluff#tokyorev x you#tokyo rev x you#tokyo revengers fluff#sfw#hanma x you#hanma imagine#mikey x you#mikey sano#hanma x reader
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But I Can't
Hobie x Reader
Word count: 1,000
Summary: You joining the Spider-Army has been a point of tension in your relationship.
Warnings: Angst, hurt, I had no idea how to end the story so apologies in advance.
🎸--------------------------------🎸-----------------------------------🎸
It had been three months since Hobie, your boyfriend, had told you he was the famous Spider-Punk. Three months of knowing exactly what he’s doing and being able to do nothing to help. To say it was eating away at you would be an understatement. Hearing about the Spider-Army he had built up during his time as Spider-Punk has been a point of tension in your relationship.
Why wouldn’t he let you join? You've proven that you can handle it. From the various protests of his you have gone to. Yeah they’d quickly turn into riots that resulted in you going on a mad dash to get away from. But still!
Right now you both were cuddling on the bed in your flat. Hobie’s eyes were closed, his breath was even, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep by the way his fingers drew random patterns and shapes on your skin. You didn’t want to ruin the moment but the question was eating you alive.
“Hey Hobs?” You asked, still mulling over your words.
“Hmm?” The sound came deep, rumbling through his chest.
“Why can’t I join the Spider-Army?”
Hobie groans, getting up and turning away from you as he makes his way towards the door.
“I ain't talkin’ bout this” Crossing the doorway, he leaves you behind in the bedroom.
“Hobie!” you call trying to follow him out, but you were too late. He’d already swung out the window leaving you standing in the middle of your flat alone.
The next several times you’d try to bring it up went to a very similar tune. The first try he walks out on you, again.
“Why can’t I?” you said, blocking his exit.
“Cuz it’s dangerous,” he says, pushing you to the side.
“So?” your response back with.
“So that's it” Hobie says, taking his leave.
The second time he shuts you down and changes the topic.
“Is it something I’ve done?” You asked him while in a restaurant. He can’t walk out and leave you this time.
“Really Here? Now?” he asks exasperated.
“Yes here and now, Why can’t I join?” you press.
“Let's have a nice night out, what food do you want?”
“I want to know why you're so against me joining,” you state plainly.
“What do you think ‘bout splitting a pizza? Half cheese half pepperoni?”
“Hobie, I'm serious!”
“And I’m serious about this pizza!” He jokes pulling with a lop-sided smile across his face.
“...Pizza sounds good” you sign and drop the topic.
The third time you try you do it infront of friends.
“The rest of you get to be a part of the Spider-Army! I don’t see why I can’t!” You tell the group.
“Love, will ya come off it?” Hobie signs.
“Come on, I need to get away from that place and get drunk!” One of Hobie’s band mates says, taking another swing of they’re drink.
“Come on Y/n, have a drink, let's have some fun before we gotta go back to our lives!” Another person in the group calls.
“Next rounds on me!” and you were quickly left behind yet again.
“Nice try, lovely” Hobie said, kissing you on your cheek.
After that your attempts at bringing it up became less and less successful. You almost completely dropped it. Almost.
It was late at night and Hobie had come back from patrol worse for wear. You were patching him up in the bathroom. After tying up the last stitch you pack up the first aid and tuck it back into the cupboard. Walking back over to Hobie still sitting on the toilet where you left him. You come over to him and wrap your arms around him.
“I don't know what I’d do without ya” he says the last words slurring together as he rests his head against your shoulder, hands holding your waist.
“You know,” you say, drawing circles on his back. “I could be a lot more help if I were in the Spider-Army.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Hobie grumbles, beginning to stand up.
“No, I’ve brought it up and you’ve shut me down!” you say pushing him back down on the toilet.
“I don’t want you joining,” he says, reaching for your hands.
“You've made that abundantly clear” you grumble.
“It’s dangerous” finally grabbing your hands and holding them in his.
“I can handle danger” you interject. “I can handle-”
“But I can’t handle it!” he shouts, looking you in the eyes. You can see how desperate he is.
“What?” you ask confused.
“But I can’t handle it.” he says again, voice quieter. “When we go to those protests and the pigs start throwing tear gas at us, or when one of them crooks starts something on the street. I just…”
“You just what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“I just can’t lose you. If you get hurt or...” he says trailing off, pulling your hands closer to him. “I’d never forgive myself. Hell, I can barely forgive myself when I put you in those situations.”
“Hobie, Sider-Punk, the Spider-Army that is a part of your world. I want to be a part of that too” you say softly, cupping his cheeks.
“Please Y/n, I can’t lose you” Hobie says tears welling up at the corner of his eyes.
“Hobs, that's how I feel everytime I see you leave, swinging out the window. If I can do something to make sure you get home safe or that I can be there when something goes wrong. I want to be there, I want to help.”
Hobie looked deep into your eyes trying to find any cracks in your resolve. When he finds nothing he brings your hands to his lips he kisses your knuckles.
“I can’t take that chance.”
“I’m just gonna keep bringing it up.” You reason.
“And Imma just gonna keep telling ya no” he says with a small smile coming to his face. “I’m keepin’ ya safe whether you like it or not.”
#hobie brown#fanfic#hobie x reader#atsv hobie#hobie spiderverse#spiderpunk#astv hobie#angst#hobie x y/n#hobie x you
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10 for dinara & the new mercar
10. Does Rook know their history? Do they know of the HoF, Hawke, the Inquisitor?
(i think? i've been extremely slow at working through my inbox so please correct me if i’m mixing up the set of 50 questions!)
dinara de riva:
in general? she knows a little. less than most crows when it comes to internal politics in antiva (bc she mostly takes contracts on kossith) but she still knows who's at war with who/for how long, which side the major crow houses are backing, etc.
she was only 4 during the blight, so all her info comes from her circle education. she knows the HoF was from denerim's alienage and that he died ending the blight (does NOT know abt him & zevran or that zevran's the guy who's been taking out crows)
she knows even less about hawke than the hof. she's heard more about anders from varric than she has about hawke, it's that dire.
varric signed it on his behalf, but this is still an inquisition contract, so she gathers a decent amount of intel on lord trevelyan. from that + the comments varric & harding made about him when they thought she was out of earshot, she's concluded that andraste's herald is probably a bit of a prick. this is an accurate assessment.*
tavian mercar:
military families get pretty good education as far as soporati go, but the history curriculum is very tevene. he knows all the major wars/rebellions and knows his archons and black divines better than he'd like, but not nearly as much about the rest of thedas
warden commander mahariel's name is known as far away as minrathous, and often spoken in derogatory terms. it's common knowledge that the major southern port of amaranthine should be avoided by any slavers who want to keep their lives and cargo
varric doesn't talk about hawke much in this worldstate either, but that's because it's better for people to keep thinking she's stuck in the fade so they don't ask questions about how her apostate girlfriend got her out of there. as far as tavian knows, isabela's semi-retired merc gf is just another lord of fortune
inquisitor lavellan is a big deal. tavian's only been with the shadow dragons for about 4 years, but he's heard enough from his colleagues to know that she played a pretty big role in bringing magister pavus and the lucerni into their network, and that she's helped them form diplomatic ties with the northern dalish clans. he's a bit awed by her, even after he meets her
50 questions for rook
#ty for the ask!! apologies for the atrociously late response!!#dinara de riva#tavian mercar#*some bonus tidbits for dinara & the inquisitor:#when she first meets sander she genuinely does think harding/varric have been exaggerating for personal reasons#(hawke stuck in the fade.... harding's shitty ex-bf....)#bc he's really charming!! way more than a noble usually bothers to be when they're talking to a crow they've contracted#or just... to any vashoth or apostate mage in general. it's not what she'd have expected from the Herald of Andraste#by their 2nd meeting when she gets him talking about solas though..... then she's like oh... nvm. that's my bad. i see it now.#she goes straight to lucanis' room with a bottle of wine afterward to commiserate abt the horrors of getting an ex-situationship contract
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Kinktober Day 22
Bondage-Helluva boss Asmodues and Fizz
Warning: 18+,Smut,Tied up Asmodeus,Shabari
Tangled up
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Asmodeus was finally done with his work for the day. He felt exhausted he couldn't wait to have a relaxing afternoon with his favorite demon. Asmodeus entered their shared bedroom. Fizz was sitting on their couch he had a turquoise rope in his hands. Asmodeus looked at him confused.
"Fizz what do you have in your hands?"
Fizz looked up at Asmodeus. His face lit up with joy. He went up to him. He showed him the rope as it had knots in it.
"I'm learning how to do shabari can you help me"
Fizz asked Asmodeus smiled down at him. He was thinking about how cute Fizz looked. Fizz's tail flicked as he waited for a response. Asmodeus snapped out of his trance.
"Of course I'll help you Fizzy-cake~"
Asmodeus cooed to him and got to his level. He gently rubbed his thumb on his cheek as he bent down.
"Ok great "
Fizz smiled happily as he stretched his legs to get to Asmodeus's stomach. Stretched his arms to wrap them around his waist. He tied a knot it didn't look right so he started over. After a few attempts of the same results, he got frustrated.
"Here Fizzy-cake let me help "
Asmodeus cooed to him he showed Fizz how to tie the knot so it wouldn't come undone. Fizz smiled he purred lightly.
"Alright thank you Ozzy I got it now "
He said as he started to swiftly move the rope around Asmodeus's body. The tying part was easy after Asmodeus showed him the proper way. Asmodeus watched Fizz wrap the rope around his crotch area avoiding his dick. His bull head snarled lightly. His face flushed as he realized how hot Fizz looked when he was concentrating.
Fizz continued with his work he didn't notice the effect he was having on Asmodeus. Fizz tied a knot around his waist. He went to admire his work when he was suddenly slapped by something huge.
"Ow Ozzy-"
Fizz stopped as he stared at Asmodeus's large dick. He started to drool a little. Asmodeus looked at him worried. He rubbed his thumb against the red mark on Fizz's cheek.
"Oh Fizzy I'm so sorry I was going to warn you but it's to late"
Asmodeus caught Fizz's attention with his apology. Fizz looked up at him.
"It's ok Ozzy I was just surprised, you can slap me with this dick anyday~"
Fizz teased as he licked the slit of the head. Asmodeus's goat head had heart-shaped eyes Asmodeus moaned as Fizz licked his dick slowly. Fizz smiled as he dragged his tongue to the base and back to the head. Asmodeus struggled against the ropes as he realized Fizz tied his hands behind his back while he was distracted. He chuckled at Fizz's cheekyness.
"Fizz, did you tie my hands behind my back on purpose?~"
Asmodeus asked as he looked down at Fizz who had a lustful teasing grin on his face. Fizz blinked up at him innocently.
"Did I? I hadn't noticed~"
Fizz teased as he bent down to caress Asmodeus's balls. He played with them gently. He loved how heavy they were in his hands. Asmodeus moaned as Fizz fondled his balls.
Fizz giggled as he pressed his face against his balls. He sucked on them gently. He felt Asmodeus's whole body quiver under his touch. He loved the fact he could undo one of the kings of hell just by his touch.
"Fizz~"
Asmodeus moaned he loved the pleasure his Fizzy was providing him. His bull head snarled. Fizz noticed he went up to it and pecked its cheek. He went over to the goat's head and also pecked its cheek they both had heart eyes now. Fizz turned to Asmodeus and pulled him into a loving kiss he prided open Asmodeus's lips. He took the lead in the kiss. Fizz pulled away a string of saliva connecting their lips. They panted Fizz whipped his mouth as he smiled at him. He pulled the rope and led Asmodeus to the bed.
He gently pushed him onto the bed Fizz sat on his waist. Asmodeus looked up at him. He wanted to ravish Fizz against the mattress. He couldn't with his hands behind his back and Fizz knew this. He was at Fizz's mercy. He squirmed under his hips trying to get some friction. Fizz moaned lightly as he felt how big Asmodeus felt under his ass.
Fizz moved his hips in a circular motion he moaned lightly. He loved teasing his boyfriend getting him riled up. Asmodeus groaned lightly the bull head snarled. Fizz giggled he got up in Asmodeus face.
"What's wrong Ozzy?~"
Fizz teased as he cooed softly. Fizz scratched under the bull's head chin. He pecked the goat's cheek. Fizz got up grabbed the strawberry-flavored lube and squirted some on Asmodeus's dick.
"Nothing better than having a hard days of work and coming home to some good dick~"
He cooed as he massaged the lube on Asmodeus's cock. Asmodeus moaned as he watched Fizz's hands work his dick. Fizz lined up Asmodeus's cock to his throbbing hole. He moaned as he felt the head pierce through him. No matter how many times Asmodeus fucks him his size always surprises him. Asmodeus gasped as he felt himself spread Fizz. Fizz arched his back and let out a sluty moan as he sunk further down.
Asmodeus bucks his hips up pushing himself further into Fizz. Fizz didn't even make a sound as he felt his ass meet Asmodeus's hips. Asmodeus was about to get worried.
"Oooh fuck Ozzy you are so big~"
Fizz moaned as his back arched and his eyes rolled back. He felt relief as Fizz spoke. Asmodeus couldn't get over how beautiful Fizz's fucked out expression was he could never get tired of it. Fizz lifted his hips he only left Asmodeus's tip in. He gasped as sat back down with more force. He moaned as he repeated the process this time a little faster.
Asmodeus thrusted his hips forward in time with Fizz's. This caused pleasure to ripple throughout Fizz's body. His tail wagged as his tongue lolled out. He couldn't think anymore. Asmodeus managed to sit up with Fizz still on his dick. Fizz was confused as Asmodeus hummed.
"You are such a cute little cock warmer~"
He cooed softly to Fizz. He flipped Fizz onto the bed below him. His body covered Fizz. He heard a cute little moan from below him. He looked down at Fizz to make sure he was ok. Fizz looked at him his cheeks flushed he panted. Asmodeus smiled he did have the prettiest demon in all of hell he thought. He started thrusting into Fizz again. Fizz couldn't form words anymore he could only moan like a porn star.
Asmodeus thrusted his hips fast and deep into Fizz. He reached every nook and cranny inside Fizz. Fizz pushed his butt more against Asmodeus. Asmodeus felt Fizz twitch around him he smiled.
"That's right Fizz cum for me~"
He cooed Fizz couldn't hold back anymore he came all over their sheets. Asmodeus groaned as he felt Fizz tighten as he came. This caused Asmodeus to also cum. They both panted Asmodeus waited a few minutes to pull out of Fizz. He laid next to him he looked at Fizz.
"Can you untie me now?"
He asked him Fizz sat up. He felt tired his robot arms turned into noodles. He groaned as he felt the cum start leaking out.
"I'm going to need a minute "
He laid on the bed again Asmodeus understood. He hummed happily as Fizz got up to lay on his chest.
"Best lesson ever"
Fizz mumbled before falling asleep. The last thing he heard was Asmodeus's chuckle.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#helluva boss#asmodeus x fizzarolli#i procrastinate too much#I don't have a problem#smut
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Hello! I'm the anon that requested the Red Velvet and Dark Cacao small fic :D
And omg, I loved it!! Thank you for doing my request (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
May I request for the same trope/scenario but with Caramel Arrow Cookie? She has been living in my head for quite some time.. once again, thank you! ( ˘ ³˘)♥
(Sorry if this got sent twice, my Tumblr is being a jerk)
A/n: I absolutely loved writing those fics, so I'm glad you enjoyed it! <3
I don't understand flirting, but my early morning brain was determined to write it, so apologies if that isn't what you were looking for. CA also might be ooc since I haven't completed Chapters 13/14 yet (。•́︿•̀。)
I try my best to make my writing gender-neutral when I can, so please point out if I seem to be leaning towards any gender at all.
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Caramel Arrow Cookie x Reader
Caramel Arrow Cookie sat cross-legged on her bed, in no rush to get up and at her duties today. It was one of her days off- which were few and far in between. She decided to spend the day doing things she wouldn’t usually, such as sleeping in. So instead of waking up before sunrise, as she normally would, she slept until the sun was creeping into her window, shining in her face- which was relatively late in the morning.
She did eventually decide to wake up however, and took her comb to start working at the ridiculous amount of hair she had.
Knock knock.
Caramel Arrow Cookie didn’t need to guess who was at her door, seeing as you had a rather particular rhythm in which you knocked on her door.
“Come in!” She called.
The door creaked open, allowing you to step in, giving Caramel Arrow an enthused expression.
“Goood morning Caramel Arrow! What are you up to?” You asked, watching her continue to comb out her hair, which trailed around her like a winding river.
“Ah, I’m just brushing my hair right now.” She answered, briefly smiling up at you to signal that you were welcome to stay.
“Can I braid it?” You asked without missing a beat, which meant that you probably thought about it beforehand.
“Oh, I don’t see why not.” She answered, gesturing for you to sit on her bed. After taking a seat behind her, you combed your fingers through her hair. You had to pause for a moment, marvelling at how the sun made the brown swirls in her hair shine, making it look almost golden.
“Has anyone ever told you that your hair is really pretty?” You asked, starting to break her hair into two parts.
She thought about it for a moment, before shaking her head slightly. “No, you would be the first to say that.” She claimed, resting both of her hands in her lap now that you were handling her hair.
“Really? I suppose your absolutely fantastic hair must be overshadowed by how great of a Watcher you are then.” You said decisively, giving Caramel Arrow a grin she couldn’t see. The tiniest amount of heat rushed to her cheeks, momentarily surprising her.
She didn’t have a response for flirting. The silence stretched, slightly uncomfortably on her side as she mentally struggled to find a new topic. “We- would you like to go get bubble tea after this? My treat.” She offered.
“Like a date?” You asked teasingly, which only made her want to curl in on herself in embarrassment.
“N-no! As a… payment, for… helping me braid my hair?” Caramel Arrow Cookie answered defensively, but you gave the back of her head an unconvinced expression.
“Uhuh, sure. We’ll get bubble tea after I finish braiding your hair, but in a totally platonic not-date way.” You reiterated, making her sigh in exasperation.
The whole time, you had been delicately braiding her hair, crossing one side over the other and trading a small piece each time, creating an elegant fishtail braid.
By the time you were finished, tying it with a hairtie so that it wouldn’t slip out, her hair only reached to around her lower back, as compared to how it usually could touch the floor. The magic of hair braiding, you supposed.
“There! I’m all done!” You announced, not-so-gently pushing her off the bed so she would go over to the vanity. Caramel Arrow shot you a playful glare as she caught herself, then moved to the vanity, where she looked in a hand mirror to get a view of your handiwork.
“Oh, that looks beautiful, [Name]-Cookie. Thank you.” She said delightedly, setting the mirror down.
Caramel Arrow Cookie took her dapho off the vanity, putting it on. She then gestured toward the door. “Shall we go now?”
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All done!
#Caramel Arrow Cookie x reader#caramel arrow cookie#crk x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#crk#cookie run kingdom#x gn reader#If anyone is interested#I can write a bubble tea date part two#◞◦ ☆ -➛ Posts: Writings#◞◦ ☆ -➛ Posts: Drabbles
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looking in
oc | gen, slight genrai word count: 0.8k
While they're recovering from the Sound Four, Genma and Raidou get a visit in the hospital late one night.
Raidou nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a ghostly figure walk past his bed - too tired and a little out of it on painkillers to think straight - but when he heard Genma's bed creak and the sound of his voice asking someone if they came here directly from a mission, and the quiet monotone that followed, he relaxed a little.
Even through the curtains separating their sections, Raidou could tell his childhood friend was consoling a shinobi he had become very familiar with over the years, still in uniform and a little filthy. Genma was scolding him for trekking dirt into a hospital and that he didn't have to cry over small potatoes. The reassurance that the blood on his clothes wasn't his didn't help in the slightest.
He couldn't see his face but heard the hoarse responding, "I'm not." Raidou could imagine the kind of expression the young man made, the kind he always had whenever Genma got hurt, and smiled a bit.
Eventually, Shiranui was able to convince Taeru to go home, clean up, and rest - best not bring germs and dried blood with him on his next visit, right? He must be exhausted, too. The tokujo were graced with the peace and quiet of their room once more after Raidou teased a little Genma about having such a doting baby brother. He was told to shut up and go back to sleep.
In the morning, the men are greeted with pumpkin broth alongside their expected hospital slop. The attending nurse chews Tae out for not letting anyone treat his wounds until after his visit and he pretends not to notice the heat of Genma's stare.
Tae gets round two of scolding after she leaves and Genma lays into him about the importance of wound care while apologizing to Raidou for not knowing what he liked to eat - getting just Gen-nii's favorites instead; his ear was twisted for not listening.
Genma makes a remark that he's only 30 and going to have grey hairs because of this little twerp, Tae's mumbled response was that he was taller anyway but even if he did, it'd mean they'd match. Raidou thinks rhetorically between bites of bread if Tae thought being cute would get him out of trouble.
The answer is apparently yes, since - although exasperated - Genma's expression softens still, and with a sigh, he tells the young man to sit on the floor so he can braid his hair.
It's not like it's the first time Raidou's been privy to moments like this; small bubbles of peace between their bustling, dangerous lives as shinobi. All of them were were aware that at any moment, all of it could be taken away. Hell, the reason Genma and Raidou were here in the first place was because they were defeated by Orochimaru's monstrous henchmen. The fact that they were so young stung both in the way that their opponents were just kids and that they were defeated. They weren't technically full jonin, just tokujo, but it still stung.
He wondered if those kids were Tsunade sent would be alright.
Tuning back into the idle conversation, Raidou watched his best friend carefully part and braid the younger man's hair. Genma mentioned how long it'd gotten, asking if he was taking care of himself properly - Tae's response was simply a low hum with his eyes closed.
Ahh, that must've felt nice, then.
Raidou briefly imagined what Genma's fingers running through his own hair would be like, but with his brother here all that produced was the unflattering mental image of himself with long hair in a comical way. He shook the thought away immediately.
His gaze turned to the two other men. It's not an unfamiliar sight; Genma's been tying Tae's hair since it was long enough to tie, long enough to cause the boy distress, and now as he's reclaiming his self image. Raidou was always in the periphery, as his older brother's - Gen-nii's - best friend. The comfortable quiet is nice, he thinks to himself.
It's nice enough for Raidou to reach over to try and pat his junior's head (although Namiashi was technically outranked), his expression the most peaceful it's looked in a long time; but that's disturbed as his wrist is held inches away and Tae asks what he's doing.
Raidou tries to awkwardly sputter his way through an explain for his actions, something about feeling the right moment - looking to his best friend in the other hospital bed for help. It felt as though he'd been rejected from petting a stray, or maybe an affectionate housecat who was sweet with only certain people and hissed at the rest. He could make a guess as to who he was right now.
Though all Genma does is take a second to hold the senbon away from his mouth, then laugh at his friend's discomfort under his baby brother's typical intense, off-putting gaze.
Heat slowly creeping up to his ears from both embarrassment and the sight of Genma's full-chested laughter, even if the cost was being hospitalized and wanting the earth to swallow himself whole, Raidou didn't mind moments like these.
#cebwrites#naruto#naruto oc#genma shiranui#raido namiashi#taeru#mostly raido's pov throughout this#you ever get#the living hell beat out of you with your best buddy and#now you're having soft moments in the hospital with him#and his brother#welcome to raidou's life rn#not the worst tradeoff all in all
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I saw that list and I have a few I want to know 💚
1, 11, 33 and 42 if you want 😊
Hello,
I hope you're doing well. Apologies for this response, which is so late that it's downright embarrassing.😶🌫️
1.Who is/are your comfort character(s)?
Without hesitation, Evelyne, my OC in the HL fandom, and Jae Kim in the HPHM fandom bc I recognise parts of their story or personality in myself (but not all, fortunately😆). They also possess great resilience, which is a source of comfort for me.
11. Favourite extracurricular activity?
I left school too long ago to still have an extracurricular activity. But back then, I was very curious about everything and eager for new experiences, so I tried everything that came my way.
33. The last adventure you've been on?
Every outing with my children is an adventure in itself 🤣🤣🤣
42. An app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?
Um… apart from when I’m here, AO3, possibly Reddit occasionally, or when I’m writing, I’m not on my screens much.😅 Pinterest, maybe?
Once again, sorry for this late reply and ty for your ask.
See you soon (on “The Most Powerful Waitress”😉).
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