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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Not a Word 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: Happy Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t hear your father’s voice anymore. You stand at your door, listening for any sign of life. It’s not him you want to avoid, though he’s rarely happy to see you, but his company. You’re pretty sure they left but not entirely. You feel asleep working on your diamond art.

You can’t wait much longer. You have to pee so bad that you can feel it in your throat. It’s late. You’re sure you’re alone.

The door hinges scrape like they always do. You hate that noise. You tiptoe down the hall, towards the yellow blare of the kitchen light. You turn into the bathroom and shut the door. You sigh as finally you get your release.

You flinch as you stand up and pull your elastic waistband over your hips. The hollow metal tink of a metal can sounds from outside. It could be your dad. That would make sense. He probably got up to get water or another can of beer.

You wash your hands and go back out. You head towards your bedroom without a look in the other direction. The grizzly pronunciation of your name draws you back. Your eyes round as you scuff to a halt.

You turn to face the burly man at the end of the hall. “Did I wake you?” Sy asks.

You gulp and shake your head. He’s one of your dad’s coworkers from the shop. He comes over with a six-pack and they sit on the porch to enjoy it. Or they linger in the kitchen and play cards.

As the shadows shroud him, he looks even bigger than usual. You’ve only ever seen him from a distance. Usually he’s sitting down. Maybe you just never noticed how gigantic he truly is.

He flips on the hallway light and you blink. His dark beard adds to the squareness of his jaw and his shaved head has dark stubble in a deep peak on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle despite his naturally fearsome posture.

“I just got your daddy to bed,” he says. “He should be just fine. You check that he’s on his belly tomorrow morning.”

You nod again. He does the same. He doesn’t appear frustrated as your father. He seems almost intrigued as he stays there, scratching above the collar of his tee.

“You okay?”

You nod.

“Checkin’, ya know? It’s late. Dark can be scary, huh?”

Yes, your head bobs in agreement.

“Right, well, you have a good night. Let me know if ya need anything in the morning. I put my number on the fridge.” He taps on the door frame and turns away.

Most of your dad’s friends or the same. They don’t pay you much mind. You prefer that. You’re not one for chatting. That fact irks your father to no end. You just stay out of his way, and his friends’, and hide in your room.

You wait until you hear the front door. Then you go to lock it as Sy’s footsteps clamour on the porch. You stay there, his headlights shining through the window as his engine rumbles to life. The gravel crunches as he reverses out and steers off into the night.

You go around and shut off the lights. You take your time in the kitchen tidying up the beer cans. You wipe the counters quickly and rinses the dregs off your fingers. You leave the light on so you can find your door.

You shut yourself in and go back to bed. You leave the small lamp on next to it and turn your back to the glow. You yawn and close your eyes.

Another night. It’s a bit sad that the best part of your day is going to sleep. Your waking hours aren’t very interesting. When you’re not doing the chores or the cooking, you’re in there, busying yourself with something meaningless. Nothing you do will ever make a difference; not for you or anyone else.

That’s why your dad hates you so much. You can’t blame him. There’s no jobs out there for someone like you. You tried and all you got for it was embarrassment and a new slew of insults.

You cross your arms over the top of the blankets and sigh. When you lay in your bed, you can be anything. Behind your eyelids, you can’t paint pictures more gleaming than those etched in the small plastic diamonds. You could be a princess or an actress or even just someone normal.

What keeps you awake, isn’t your dreams. It’s the dread of the inevitable. Once you fall asleep, you’ll have to wake up again and face bitter reality.

🩶

Your dad’s snoring rocks you through the walls. The house is small. You hear a lot more than you like. Often, you leave the old Casio radio playing on low to gloss over the cricks and cracks and groans.

You get up, knowing better than to wait until he does first. If you have the coffee waiting, it will appease a fraction of his temper. With a hangover racking his skull, he won’t be in the best of moods.

The dead heat of summer roils through the house. Your dad has an AC unit in his bedroom window but it’s not big enough to do much beyond his door. He keeps that closed most days anyways. On the cold days, he also keeps the small electric heater locked away with him.

You change into a pair of loose linen capris and a plain tank top. You don’t go anywhere so you don’t dress for any occasion. Most of your clothes are akin to pajamas, or nothing more than.

The machine is old and dingy. No matter how many times you descale it, it keeps that yellow stain in the plastic. You snap the lid shut and flip the red button so it lights up. Dad says once it stops turning on, he’ll waste money on a new one.

You get yourself a glass of water and wait. It’s early still but his alarm won’t let him sleep in. As it goes off, you keep busy.

There’s a slam and a grumble. Your dad stirs violently and his door hits the frame as he swings it open. He lumbers out as you pour him a mug. He belches and ignores you. You put it on the table as he turns down the hall and goes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open and you hear his stream piddle into the toilet.

You ignore it and turn back to your task. Breakfast. It’s the same thing every day. You do his eggs, sunny side up, toasted Wonder bread, and six strips of bacon. The smell soon has your mouth watering. The chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drops into it heavily.

He slurps loudly behind you as you put together his plate. You set it before him and he wiggles the empty mug at you. You take it and pour him another from the carafe.

A car door snaps shut. You wince. You didn’t hear an engine, but you’d been too swept up in cooking. You give your dad his refill and go to check the front window.

“Is it that mailman already?” He hollers.

You shake your head, even knowing that he won’t see.

“Don’t know why I fucking ask,” he snarls.

You watch Sy jump out of his truck. While the axle is high, it isn’t very treacherous for a man his size. He kicks up gravel as he steps around the door and shuts it. You back away as he heads towards the house.

He clomps up the steps, thump, thump, thump, and you jitter as he approaches the other side of the door. You wait until he knocks before you answer it. You peek out through a single inch of space. He grins. You don’t think he’s ever smiled at you. You assumed he never did at all.

“How’s the old man?” He asks.

You blink and let the door open a bit more and give thumbs up. As good as he’ll ever be.

“That’s good,” he drawls. “So...”

His eyes drift down, just a little. You squirm. Your shirt feels thinner as you stand there. Your nipple poke into the fabric and you hug yourself awkwardly. You remember you asked your father for a bra once. He laughed and you never brought it up again. You try to stick to loose clothing.

You point over your shoulder then make a gesture as if you’re holding a fork and scooping.

“Having breakfast, that’s nice.”

You don’t have enough for him. You’ll wait until your dad’s at work before you sit and have your single slice of toast and peanut butter.

“I already ate, in case ya worried,” he assures. “Was just comin’ to make sure I didn’t give him too much sauce.”

He laughs. His booming humour makes your flinch. Your brows pop up and he quiets.

“Sorry, I know, I’m a loud one, huh?” He snorts, “I don’t mean ta scare ya.”

“I told ya, she don’t say shit,” your father growls into a yawn. You step back and the door opens all the way as you press yourself to the wall. He saunters forward in his boxers and tank top. “No point goin’ on like that when she probably don’t even understand.”

“She understands me,” Sy avows confidently. “After a night with your drunk ass, it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone not yammer on.”

“You’re the one brought me the piss,” your father retorts.

“And you didn’t complain when I did,” he counters. “Wanted to see if ya were going to make it in today. Just in case I gotta finish up Dubeau’s clunker.”

“I’ll be there,” your father sneers. “Why don’t you go and get it all warmed up for me?”

“You’re a prick, Don,” Sy huffs.

“What? No, you can’t see it,” your father covers his crotch and you blanch, looking away embarrassed.

“Don,” Sy rebukes, “there’s a lady.”

“It’s my daughter, dammit. She’s too stupid to get it,” he spits. “Hey, you, go on, kitchen’s a mess.”

You nod and avoid looking at the other man out of embarrassment. Your father is crass, sometimes even at your expense. And he knows you can understand him. He must. You do everything he tells you too.

“Well, then, I’ll see ya round,” Sy calls, though you only realise he’s talking to you as your dad changes the subject to some tail pipe.

You stop and peek back. Sy watches you over your dad’s head. You give a wave, just a tilt of your hand, then continue into the kitchen.

You can’t help but be thankful for the interruption. Sy’s boisterous intrusion offered a buffer between you and your dad’s hangover. You wash his plate, cutlery, and mug, before you move onto the pots and pans you used to cook.

You can hear your dad barking outside at Sy. The other man responds with a deep rumble. Are they arguing?

The front door swings open, “hey, girl,” you dad whistles, “more coffee. Bring some for this lump.”

You take the order in stride. You don’t have enough for two cups, maybe half of one. You start a new pot and wait. When it’s finished, you dry your dad’s mug and pull out another. You carry both to the front door and elbow through.

You hand one to each man as they stand by the porch railing. Your dad takes his gruffly, spilling some on your fingers, but Sy thanks you.

“You didn’t even ask if he wanted sugar or cream,” your dad chides. You give him a startled look. He snorts. “How’d ya do that, huh? Maybe blink your eyes real big.”

You frown at his mocking. Sy exhales and you back away. Now you have two men annoyed with you. You glance over at the bigger of the pair as he stares at you. You should’ve thought of you. Coffee is bitter, it’s why you don’t drink it.

You point to his cup and he shakes his head, “coffee’s fine,” he insists, “I’ll have something sweet later.” You nod and retreat. You turn your back to them and step inside. Before you close the door, you hear Sy, “you know I take my coffee black, Don. No needa to give the girl a hard time.”

You shut it before you can catch whatever snide remark your father tosses back. You know he won’t take kindly to being told what to do, especially if it’s to do with you. Or because of you. You’ll hear it all later, you’re sure.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #dark!captain syverson #sand castle #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #not a word

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cryptidvaquero · 2 months ago

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wip wednesday? don't mind if i do

here's an excerpt from a park ranger/bear shifter! john price/waitress! reader fic im writing

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You liked the evening shifts for a few reasons. Usually, the crankier older residents retired at 7 pm when the sun had barely started to set; thank God for that. Things were quieter, more laid back. You didn’t get paid shit, but at least no one would wish death upon you and your lineage for bringing them a plate with eggs over easy instead of garnished with liquid-fucking-gold.

And your final, favorite reason? You hear the jingle of the bell, and here he is.

“Hey John. Rough night?”

Your manager greets the rugged-looking man who walks through the door. Six-foot-something, brown hair and beard, built like a brick shithouse, and dressed like a damned lumberjack. Like clockwork, local park ranger John Price blesses your godforsaken job at 11:00 pm and leaves within the hour.

It’s the best 30-45 minutes of your shift.

John gives a rough grunt, nodding his head in greeting toward your manager before making a beeline to his favorite corner booth. Rough night indeed.

“He’s in your section, hon. Don’t forget he likes his t-”

“-Likes his tea unsweet. Yes, I know.”

He gets the same thing each time. Unsweetened iced tea, two waffles, a batch of scrambled eggs, three pieces of bacon. The guy eats like he’s starving, yet he’s built like he climbs trees and catches fish with his bare hands. Hell, he’s a park ranger, he probably does.

You disappear into the back, pouring an unsweet tea before ushering it out to John’s table.

“Hey! How are you tonight?” Same song and dance, same fake smile. The life of a food service worker. John glances up at you, drowsy blue eyes sitting under thick eyebrows. The corner of his lips tilts up in a similarly forced smile, and he gives you a nod.

“S’Alright,” he grumbles. His voice is deep and growly - it’s like he’s perpetually stuck in a post-cigarette bedroom voice. Which, of course, you don’t mind in the slightest. He could read off a ransom note and you’d probably swoon. You place the unsweet tea in front of him and he eyes it like water in the middle of a scorching desert.

“Same as usual? Two waffles, scrambled eggs, three-”

“Ah- uhm. No, actually. A bit different tonight.”

Your eye twitches, an instinctual response to being interrupted by a customer. John doesn’t notice, he’s too busy looking out the diner windows toward the treeline. You’d think he’d leave work at work, but apparently, old pines are interesting enough to warrant his lack of conversational engagement. He’s a grown man, you tell yourself, it’s kind of how they are.

You tear off the ticket you were already writing down, stuffing the crumpled yellow sheet in an apron pocket before placing the tip of your pen on the new sheet. “Alright,” you huff. “What’s it gonna be tonight?”

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“Jesus fucking Christ, kid.”

The cook in the back looks at the ticket, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. An hour before closing, and he’s practically cooking a Thanksgiving feast.

“This is John’s order? John Price? The same guy we see almost nightly?”

You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“That’s what I was thinking, Phil! I wrote down his usual and everything, and he interrupts me and proceeds to order half the goddamn menu!”

Phil hangs up the ticket in front of him, and you can see the chicken scratch you quickly applied to the paper, almost completely covering it. John had ordered… and kept ordering. It’s not like you’ve never dealt with large orders before, but from park ranger John Price? This was completely out of his norm.

The back door opens and shuts, and a younger line cook walks in smelling like cigarettes.

“Hey, Alex, come look at this!” Alex shuffles in, looking over Phil’s shoulder. You watch as his eyes go from indifferent to indignant. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s an hour till closing and

you’re serving a party? Tell them to go the hell ho-”

“No no no- this is John, man. Mr. Price. Can you even believe it?”

Alex looks from the ticket and to you. You watch as his lips move under his mustache, like he’s trying to get some sort of response out. Phil just pats him roughly on the back before hanging the ticket on the line.

“Let’s get started, bud. Mr. Shepherd’ll have our asses handed to us if we don’t close on time.”

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It’s about 11:45 pm. About 25 minutes ago, you had to pull out the old dolly like some sort of dumbass to push out the huge order to John. He owed you for that. He really fucking did. And now, 25 minutes later, the entire fuckass meal is gone. Nowhere to be found. He ate it all.

Perched behind the counter, you pretend to wipe things down while Alex comes out of the back of the house. He perches next to you, shoulders bumping together. He smells a bit like bacon grease and menthol.

“You think we can add gratuity to his check?” He murmurs.

“Do you wanna be the one asking Herschel ‘we-go-way-back’ Shepherd to upcharge our regular?”

Alex purses his lips, head nodding back and forth. Finally, he settles on a comfortable “no,” before stalking back into the kitchen. With a sigh, you toss the rag you were holding to the side and push yourself from the counter. You walk to the back of house to ring John up, emerging shortly thereafter and slipping it on his table. “You gonna need anything to go?” You’re not really sure why you asked - he ate enough to sustain a damned bear for the winter. If he asked for anything to go, you might punch him.

Lucky for you, he shakes his head.

“No ma’am,” he says, his voice gravelly.

You feel a bit guilty, then. All he was trying to do was order a meal, but you’ve been groveling all evening over walking a couple of plates in his direction. For all you knew, he could’ve missed lunch or something, too busy doing… whatever the hell a park ranger does.

He’s not very chatty tonight, either. Usually, you can fish a bit out of him if you bat your eyelashes and don’t look too busy. He doesn’t mind small talk if he doesn’t feel like he’s getting in your way. But this whole night has felt like pulling teeth.

“Alex made a joke about charging you gratuity for that meal of yours,” You laugh.

The joke quickly slips and falls flat when John looks at the check with a blank expression. Lord almighty.

“Sorry for the trouble,” He replies.

You want to tear your hair out. Does he actually think you were trying to guilt-trip him? Jesus Christ, you want to go hide in a hole and quit forever.

“No no!” You raise your hands to wave off his apology. “It was a joke. He was just being a dick, y’know?”

John reaches for his wallet, tucked away safely in a Carhartt jacket that’s seen better days. He slips his card to you, and you know that it’s time to run off before you say another stupid thing.

Alex and Phil are ragging on each other when you scramble to the back of house, and Phil flashes you a grin. However, your mood is soured. You punch in the numbers and get John’s receipt before they can try and drag you into one of their stupid conversations.

“Here you go,” You mumble, handing John his receipt and card back. Your throat itches with the compulsory ‘thank you for coming, have a good night,’ but you hold it back. Putting on another smile might just make you sick to your stomach tonight.

John rises from his seat, stuffing his card back in his wallet and then his jacket. He nods in acknowledgment, stepping from the booth. He’s taller than you by a long shot as he stands, and he’s even hunched over a bit. If he’d stand up straight, he’d practically cast a shadow over you.

“You have a good night, love. Drive safe.” The most words he’s spoken all night, and they’re telling you to be safe. In that growly accent of his. He’s not even making eye contact, practically bristling at the prospect of socialization, but you feel like your knees are about to give out just from his words.

“Yeah,” You breathe. “You too, okay? Watch out for animals in the road.”

Mentally, you compartmentalize a thought that says buying a book on local wildlife to talk about with him next time is a good idea. It might be a bit weird, but he’s a bit weird. He’d probably dig it.

John nods, finally meeting your eyes as that caterpillar of facial hair quirks up in a small smile.

“Bears right now, mainly. Most know better than to run around the roads, though.”

Why the hell is that little fact enough to make you starstruck? You barely muster a nod before he’s out the diner door, the bell ringing behind him and signaling that the last customer of your shift has left.

#call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #john price #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #cpt price x reader #call of duty fic

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sweetheartsaku · 6 months ago

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(HQ) i'll do the dishes we'll carry the load

𝜗𝜚 HAIKYUU!! VARIOUS: 𝓛ANTANA.

a/n: [fem!reader] i have 3 wips in my drafts but i chose to start a whole new one 😎

— characters : atsumu, iwaizumi, sakusa, osamu

atsumu miya ; dance with you tonight - laufey

ATSUMU MIYA GET BEHIND ME to all the people who say atsumu treats all girls like trash, (LOUD BUZZER NOISE) it is such a common headcannon he's a mommy's boy?? such a common headcannon that the twins grew up with their mother?? hello?? would most definitely treat you beyond well ⁽⁽(੭ꐦ •̀Д•́ )੭*⁾⁾ !!

bites his straw omg. samu HATES it, especially when they’re sharing drinks then he finds his fresh beverages straw on its last thread. does the same with you unintentionally, making it literally impossible to drink from LMAO. its atsumu so i let it pass

has a dimple on his left cheek, matching with his twin brother whose dimple is on the right!!! he loves when you kiss and poke it. whenever he's focused, he bites his cheek, and you can see the little dimple there too.

gets you so many little trinkets and souvenirs from when he goes to away-games, always thinking of you!! sends you pictures of sunsets he sees, gets you seashell necklaces and ones with your initials except you get his and he gets yours ♡ bokuto and hinata also try help him, but the best they could pick up was a pebble the same colour as your eyes.

"you wanna kiss me soooo bad"

hajime iwaizumi ; super rich kids - frank ocean

put his hands on your head or waist when your close or about to hit something.. like you could be getting something from under the table and his hand would protect the spot where you could hit your head on 😖💞 same thing with your waist, always holding it close so you don’t bump into strangers on the road

strong believer of sidewalk rule. will switch your places EVER so gently (IWAIZUMI HAJIME THE MAN YOU ARE). loooooves slithering his hands around your waist and adooooores the pudgy stuff under your shirt. he just finds every inch of you beautiful from the bottom to the top!!! (he js like me frfr u is gorjus bae)

would carry you when your feet/heels hurt. the INSTANT he hears a slight groan of pain he will actually already be down there unbuckling the clip of the heel LMAO. props you up on his back and holds you up with so much pride.. his favourite heels to unbuckle are valentino’s and ysl. got the valentino’s for you on your 3rd year anniversary and the ysl on your 4th. maybe he’s gonna get on one knee while he’s down there too

smells like an insane amount of axe body spray unfortunately.. sorry iwa enthusiasts

kiyoomi sakusa ; coming home - beabadoobee

really loves claw clips. whether it be on you, or on himself and literally just in general. really loves when you wear the pearlier colours, especially teal and lime mixed with yellows etc... he also likes the clips on himself when he's cleaning

haircare routine goes HARD!! always having 2 lathers of shampoo, 1 layer of conditioner then another layer of leave-in conditioner, protection products and after allat he has curl serum (he does it with a scalp massager too btw)

keeping the kita shinsuke + sakusa kiyoomi crocheting agendas up rn. as a kid his family was always prioritised with work at the hospital so he'd always just sit in the corner of the waiting room with his thoughts, till one day this elderly lady who always had weekly checkups would teach him how to crochet. he made things for his family, but they never accepted/used it, so he just stopped after elementary school. but ever since he met you, he suddenly felt his hands tug towards the hooks a little harder

favourite scents are lime and herbs, but not together. likes lemon and lime sprays, window cleaner and wipes. secondly, loves herbs because it reminds him of the grandma that taught him to crochet 🥹(screaming, crying, wailing, throwing up, bashing head on wall.)

would peel your pomegranates (he hates messes)

osamu miya ; a piece of you - nathaniel constantin

found you watching those wax slime/asmr/clay cracking/mini foods/recipes on tiktok/mukbangs ONCE, and ever since then he's been a tad more dedicated to making special sweet treats for you after closing at onigiri miya ♡

this is like on the verge of ick and cute, but he likes to boop your nose with flour or your hand while you're baking. ya'll could be kneading impossibly close, and he'll sprinkle a bit of flour on you or randomly boop your nose 😭

always carries hair ties for you. in the kitchen he can’t have them on, but anywhere else he has one on him. since he basically lives in the kitchen, he’d prefer you to just stay there with him instead LMAO. the “anywhere else” in question is wherever you desire... but adores trying new cuisines with you. the hair tie helps tie your hair back while you eat btw <3

his hands smell like dishwashing liquid, even after the endless lathers of strong candy apple hand-soap, the scent of the liquid still lingers on his hand! you can smell it when you hold it on movie nights, or kiss it goodnight hehe

has a dimple on his right cheek, except his dimple is way deeper than atsumu's. you can see it when he chews

would peel your oranges

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #osamu x reader

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transman-badass · 2 years ago

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During the Great Depression, a transgender unwilling hitman ventures into a land of eldritch horror to face his past and save his childhood friend.

Can you introduce your WIP in one sentence?

#wip: yellow window #stay tuned for my one sentence summary of Black Velvet!#wip: psi #cthulhu mythos

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s8ke · 17 days ago

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Variants mark Grayson x reader smut

(WIP)

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Warning:

It’s smut itself BUT no goggles mark is a Masocist

Note𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ Since this is the Wip version there’s not a lot to go off on the warnings but I am still making the fic I just wanna make it before the hype of invincible goes down other then that ENJOY 𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡

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┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆

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┊ ┊ ★⋆

┊ ◦

★⋆ ┊ . ˚

˚★

“Please stay indoors! And hide,variant invincibles are alll around the world destroying everything my gosh…may god help us all.”the news report says before before a variant crashes into view as the channel cuts out

“Oh shit oh shit. !” You panic a bit because where the fuck are you going to go? no where is safe not even Mississippi is safe and no one even goes there!

You look around your apartment seeing where could you hide. “Maybe my closest but that’s so cliche,the bed to is to obvious”. Your eyebrows furrow as all your time was thinking where to hide inside of actual hiding a place to hide. then glass shattered and a gush of wind making you freeze,you turn around and noticed an invincible but fully masked with his newer colors black and blue.

Out of instincts you run to your front door but he just flys in front of you “please I’m not trying to hurt you I just miss you” *he takes a deep breath and exhales as it comes out shaky instead of coming out tough and confident it came out but vulnerable and unsure.*

*after when he couldn’t find his mom he went straight to you,a girl who broke up with him because his work got in the way with your relationship with him he was about to make things right but you got caught in a cross fire trying to escape making a building fall on you.he flenches at the memory and slides down to the floor on his knees his heads on your stomach*

“I missed you you so much [name] I wish I could just be more aware of how much you meant to me.”

*this was awkward you didn’t know the guy but he knew You ,it felt wrong to push him away. You warp your arms/hands around his head making him him closer to you*

“I needed this.” *he smells you taking big sigh of

Satisfaction making you jump a bit and pull away but deep down you liked it and you hated that you liked it* just because I look like her dose not mean you can just smell me- *you where caught off by a another gush of wind and glass shattered…again, the mask man shields you away from the glass that may could hit you*

“You almost hit her you need to be more careful!.” *mask mark says annoyed*

“Oooh come ooon it’s not like some glass was going to hit her.”

*you can just hear how cocky and confident he is by his voice making you turn around seeing black and yellow,bee colors making him stand out*

“dose everyone know me at this point” *making sinister mark laugh* “that’s right ! Almost every mark knows you and we all want a share” *his tone filled with lust making you shiver a bit*

Share *you question and looking at fully masked mark and him looking away embarrassed to even mention it* “we will be gentle” *he says quietly*

“Mhhh yah real gentle-.” *he says sarcastic as he floats up to you* “I want her first I miss her the most.” *mask mark speak cutting off sinister mark off*

“I want her firs- “ * another window broke making sinister mark stop his sentence. a man in white and red you would have think it could be Omni man if it wasn’t how serious he looked.*

“Great the Mr serious is here.” *sinister mark says as he sucked in his teeth*

“It’s Omni mark” *he says sharp* “and I’m going first.” *he turns his head towards you *

“Yall- “ *you try to say something and again more gush of wind a man with no goggles with a bloody nose*

“Ooh where so back baby!! you won’t believe what just happened earlier,so many people screaming and crying like ooh Noo I’m gonna diiee *he mocks* HAA but then I got lonely thinking you should have seen it too and how you would beat me for it”

*he shivers as the thought a slight moan.

he sounds like a crazy man on crack as he looked at you,then another one a man with in white clothing similar to a viltrumite

and another one looking like the man in white clothing but only difference is that he has a mustache both of them silent but eyes saying they wanna go first there eyes narrow at you looking up and down your body.

one flys in and cracks his back his Mohawk standing out and behind him is a man who who looked like he went through hell,he also is wearing a viltrumite uniform like the other two but he stands out outta of all the marks as he was bald and well looked like he went through HELL it’s self.

He gives you a hungry look on his face like he’s ready to pounce on you at any moment to make you his “i definitely need a warm up” he says and last but not least a mark instead of a mask it was a hood over his face *

“Y’all-“ *you try to speak again but hood mark cuts you off*

“FUCK YES it’s been so long since I’ve see the pretty face” *hood mark says as Omni mark looks annoyed if he didn’t have a mask on he would totally roll his eyes*

“cussing doesn’t make you cool”

“yes the fuck it dose” *hood mark yells back mustache mark clears his throat*

“where waisting time” *his eyes move from you to hood mark and Omni mark*

Full mask mark agrees as he nods his head* “he’s right we don’t know when angstrom will call us to come back.”

“I don’t give care if he calls I’m not leaving until I get my share.” Mohawk mask says in his arrogant tone as he floats up to you you and smirks*

*your frown your eyebrows and move away from everyone * “YALL ! I will not be treated like some pussy pocket who has no say in this I don’t even know y’all and y’all are trying to take turns on me ??? I’m not some toy”

*they all go quiet looking at each other Mohawk mark rolls his eyes he’s about to snap back when sinister mark speaks up*

“please where not dumb we can all feel how bad you want it you haven’t even tried to run.”

*he speaks with his cocky tone and a sly smirk on his face but mask mark speaks up*

“she dose have a point since we all know them in our universe and came to find them to not actually mess things up this time shouldn’t we not make the same mistake and put down her feelings?”

*mohawk mark laughs* aww is poor little baby having second thoughts awwwww *he speaks sarcastically and laughs*

*no goggles marks fakes sleeping and snores and opens his eyes* huh what is it over because you literally speech board me to sleep *he laughs*

“I’m serious we all think it too were basically the same person!” *mask mark raises his voice*

*…..Silence….. *

“He’s right.” *viltrumite mark finally breaks the ice he flys up too you his muscular build sizing you up*

Do you want to do this *his tone stern and blunt*

*you think about it and hesitant but the way how these guys are making your stomach do flips and making your pussy clench on nothing says something*

“I’ll do it”

*sinister mark laughs* I told you guys she would say yes

I call deeps first ! *no goggles mark flys up to you about to catch you but prisoner catches him* I wanna go first I spent almost my whole life in that shit whole of a prison I deserve to go fist

I wanna go fucking first ! *hood mark yells*

*Omni mark glares at hood mark* I already said im going first !

Hey that’s not fair I was here first I should go first *his voice desperate but annoyed as he leaves your side and gose up to the other marks and argues back*

Ugh unbelievable *you say to yourself it was right in front of them but the where to selfish to even think of it* why can’t you all go at once and share *you speak up

*Mowahk laughs in amusement* wow she’s a bigger freak then the one I knew

Share? *mustache mark ignoring the obvious Bonner he has the thought of it making him hard.

They all look at each other and nodding in agreement without warning sinister mark fly up to you and flys to your bedroom and plops you done he quickly gets out of his suit as his big fat cock leaking of pre cum Mh yah I may share but the doesn’t mean I’ll be the last to make you cum on my cock *he’s voice a little shaky as more pre cum drips down on your stomach you would think he was cuming just how much there was you where flabbergasted as the heat in your pussy got unbearable then all the variant marks come into the room looking in jealousy as they all move up close to you removing your clothes and there own as the cold hits you boobs you cover them with your arms as out of no where prison mark moves your arm and sucks on them*

“this will keep those pretty tits warm.”

*he says under your nipple as he sucks as full mask mark sucks the other boob*

Fuck- *you gasp as your hand slides down to touch your clit as another hand pulls it away its no goggles mark right between your thighs

Nuh uh *his crazy eye smile as his eyes gleam over your pussy taking in every detail about it as he dips down and eats you out as he sucks on your clit making you gasp as you pull his hair to go deeper the pain of your pull makes him moan into your clit making him pre cum down onto the bed sheets

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ This is the end of the Wip hope you

enjoyed so far ⠀ 𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡

#invincible #mark grayson #mark x reader #markxsmut #mark graryson fanfic #variant mark #invincible x reader #invincible x you #invincible x y/n #smut #invincible smut

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louebel · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub...

"... phew ..."

scrub... poof!

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..."

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious.

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it.

If only you weren't sick.

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn."

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you.

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary.

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off.

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed.

Or not.

"Ow, ow..."

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid.

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why.

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you?

Those sweet memories...

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you.

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..."

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously...

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood.

Now? If he saw one inch of your form?

Sigh. His face always went red.

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer?

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting.

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought.

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy.

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough...

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it.

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it.

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you.

Ugh...

You wished it could all go back to normal.

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe.

"... Okay, I'm done."

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to.

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later.

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in.

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and —

knock knock.

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm.

You waited.

... knock knock.

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work.

Okay.

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now.

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light.

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them...

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight.

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him.

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes.

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.)

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone.

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself..

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you.

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?—

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?"

"Huh?"

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all.

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention.

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you.

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly.

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry."

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape.

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now.

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it.

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"..."

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage.

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and—

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three.

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis.

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name.

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed.

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy.

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next.

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything.

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—"

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?"

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream.

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it.

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long.

"You're cold... Off."

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued.

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager.

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep.

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him.

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions.

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him.

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think.

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary.

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?"

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly.

"Law …'m sorry if I smell."

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point.

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh."

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form.

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful."

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines.

"U- uuh... W- where..?"

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here."

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water.

The second tasted awful.

"E—eugh..."

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good."

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot...

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases.

“Do you feel better now..?”

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you.

Your question puzzled him.

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side.

"What?"

“I … I missed you."

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest.

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...”

Shit.

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...”

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability.

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..?

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…”

"Aargh..."

Warm.

"Mmh..."

It was very warm. Pleasant.

"Hn..."

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm.

The pillow was so nice, though...

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament.

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours.

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch.

He looked peaceful.

"... Law?"

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you.

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening."

You were mad at him. You were mad at him.

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention.

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit.

"I'm in my pajamas?"

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it."

"..."

Pause number two.

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant."

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening.

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed.

"You inhaled it, didn't you?"

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all."

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks.

"Y—Yeah."

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed."

"O—oh... That bad?"

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.”

“Hey—”

“You're fine."

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well.

"Well?"

"... You ignored me. You made it clear."

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out.

"I—I didn't."

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—"

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress.

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you."

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance.

You just... didn't know.

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not!"

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours.

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours.

If he explained, it would've been easier.

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—"

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest."

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not.

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—"

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss."

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep.

"I... You did nothing that bothers me."

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part.

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding.

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach.

He couldn't be serious.

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

"What?"

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth.

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose.

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry.

"Hey... I—"

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!"

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you.

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him.

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..."

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious.

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't.

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him.

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight.

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings.

"... You what, Law?"

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed.

His hands craved yours.

"I like—I like you!"

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed.

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you."

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—"

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances.

"... Law."

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—"

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about...

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self.

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize.

"Law."

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—"

Your heartbeats matched.

"Law!"

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him.

"It's... the same."

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises.

"Huh? Wh — what?"

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too."

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were.

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer.

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone.

All is back to normal.

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder.

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer...

Closer...

"Closer?"

"Alright."

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short.

How you missed holding it.

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face.

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change.

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait.

He felt lighter.

“… Truly?”

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.”

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit.

His eyes glistened.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return.

He can take all the time he needs.

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them.

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning.

"Tired?"

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it.

"Mm, there were a lot of them."

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks."

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it."

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?"

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it.

"... Meet me at my office once you're done."

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

#law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x you

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lou-struck · 2 months ago

Text

Around Again

Sheishiro Nagi x reader

-Your day at the waterpark turns stressful when you lose your sleeping boyfriend on the Lazy river.

W.c. 1.8k

Warnings: Reader goes a bit crazy in the heat, sunburns, dehydration

a/n: It’s Wip Mountain Charlie!

"Hey, Wake up Lovebirds,. We're here," a voice calls, walking you from your accidental nap.

The tinted windows of the team's van dull the brightness of the sun just beyond the glass as you blink slowly. The chill of the air conditioning has you nuzzling into the warm body of your boyfriend, Sheishiro Nagi, as his head of snow-white hair stirs against your shoulder.

"Are we there already?"

"No, we just decided to walk the rest of the way," Reo responds sarcastically as the other men pile out of the rental van with eager smiles on their faces.

After a grueling season, the Blue Lock team was in desperate need of a vacation, and Reo, as the resident rich friend, was kind enough to invite everyone over to one of his family's luxurious vacation homes, which just so happens to be about an hour away from a very nice waterpark.

The tall, twisting water slides cast a shadow over the team's VIP parking spot as you climb out of the backseat. Having lost his pillow, Sheishiro grumbles but follows soon after.

"You guys unload, I'll head on inside and book us a private cabana. There are too many of us to all get seats next to each other." the purple-haired man says as if it is no big deal. "Let's all meet up for lunch in a few hours."

You nod and walk through the gravel to the back of the van, where the soccer players are sorting through the bags. Apparently most of them decided to use the same exact bag for packing, so the sorting process is taking much longer.

"Here's your bag y/n," Rin says, handing you your cloth beach bag. His drawstring bag rests on his arm, heavy under the weight of the horror novels he packed for the trip.

"Thank you, I hope you get some time to read today." you smile taking the wolven handles.

He shakes his head doubtfully and glances toward an overly enthusiastic Bachira, who is pointing animatedly at the park's entrance map. "Me too, but Bachira has threatened to send me down every water slide in the park."

"Mmmhmm, the yellow-eyed man nods as you walk over to him, "It's a bucket list thing; you should come with us; it will be so much fun. Isagi here even promised not to puke."

"Hey. It's not like I want to," the blue-haired man says embarrassedly. "I'm just not used to going on all the rides."

"I'm not going anywhere until my sunscreen sets in." Chigiri frowns behind his shades. "I'll be in the shade until then."

"I'll go with you," Rin says immediately following after the pink haired man leaving Bachira to pull Isagi towards the first looming tower.

"It looks like it's just us," your boyfriend says, looking around the bustling park. "What do you want to do first y/n?"

"Maybe we should find the cabana and put our bags down," you mention, noticing that his fair cheeks are already turning pink under the harsh sun. "We can put on some sunscreen while we are there, too; you look like you are already getting burnt."

He frowns and looks at you with puppy dog eyes, "do I have to? Sunscreen is such a pain to have to put on over and over again."

You roll your eyes and give him a fond smile. "Yes, you'll thank yourself later."

"Fine, then could you put it on me?" he asks softly. "Since you want me to wear it so badly."

You swat playfully at his shoulder, the act not harming him in the slightest. "Fine."

"Ow, you hit me." he pouts like the big baby he is and rubs gingerly at the spot. "That hurt, why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you; I love you and want to make sure you don't get sunburnt." you scold; you watch as he tries and fails to keep the soft smile from breaking through his poker face.

"I love you too," he smiles, taking a step closer to you; his hands come to rest on your waist as he presses his lips to yours. The blissful, lazy rhythm of his lips makes you forget about the heat of the sun and the crowded waterpark for a moment. Until his too-warm forehead comes to rest against yours.

As much as it pains you to do so, you push away from him. "I'm going to go and get us a bottle of sunscreen. Could you take our bag to the beach area where the cabanas are?"

"Yeah, I can do tha~" he yawns, handing you his credit card.

"Tired already?"

"Yeah, the sun drained my battery, so I'll just shut my eyes until you come back."

"In the shade please," you tease, walking off to go and buy some of the park's overpriced sunscreen before your boyfriend turns into a lobster.

Instead of buying one tube of sunscreen, you approach the cabana with a bag full because you know in your heart that (with the exception of Chigiri) these footballers have not even thought about sunscreen all day.

When they come back to practice next week, their coach would be beyond furious if his starting lineup was out of commission due to sun poisoning. Sand from the man-made beach slips under your sandals as you walk along the edge of the lazy river. Dozens of people float along the strong current in innertubes completely at peace in the water. Rin and Chigiri are the only ones in the cabana when you enter; they both look content as they flip through their books, but your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"If you're looking for Nagi, I would check the Lazy River," Rin says without glancing up from his novel. "He said it looked like something he would want to try."

"Oh, thank you," you reply, setting the bag of sunscreen down on an empty chair. "I got this for everyone, so feel free to use some."

"Thanks, we'll need it," Chigiri says gratefully.

As you walk down to the bank of the lazy river, you peer out at the people floating by, some wave, but you are far too distracted when you notice a wooden sign on the riverbank.

Welcome to the World's Longest Lazy River

Shit…

If Nagi got on here, he could be halfway around the park by now. You could wait here for him to come back around, but standing out here in the hot sun seems like the last thing you want to do.

The water, just meters away, calls out to you like a siren, and as the sun beats down on you, you cave and answer it.

Grabbing an empty green and white striped innertube, you step into the water; the strong current pulls you away from the shore before you can consider turning back.

Your legs kick as furiously as a water polo player as you try to steer your way around the dozens of tubes in your path. Until you see a head of white hair bobbing in the distance.

"Sheishrio," you call out to him. Your legs still kicking through the shallow water.

When he doesn't respond, worry that he has fallen asleep in the tube. If you don't find him soon, it is very possible he could spend all day floating along the river and baking under the UV rays.

As a large group of people enter the river in front of you, he disappears from your view.

It takes far longer than necessary to get around the group, but when you do, you come across a fork in the path.

You sigh and decide to lift your feet and go where the current wants you to go. You bob through the refreshing river and are sent under a waterfall. The moment the colder water hits your forehead, you realize that you are baking in this heat as well.

Waves fizzle in the air as you spot a head of white floating along the river lazily. Ditching your tube entirely, you swim with the current, the yellow and white striped innertube bobbing closer and closer to your outstretched hand.

Your fingers slip as they find purchase on the slippery rubber donut, spinning it around, "I found you~"

An older woman who looks to be in her 70's pulls her oversized sunglasses down he nose and glares at you with murderous intent.

"What the heck did you stop me for?"

"Sorry, I was looking for someone," you say, quickly letting go of the tube and pushing it (and her) away from you as she flips you the bird.

You're too hot

You're thirsty

Where is your boyfriend?

The heat has clearly gotten the better of you as you slap at the water in fevered frustration. Your head pounds as you look forward.

"What's wrong?" a familiar voice says from behind you. "You don't look too good."

You sigh deeply, "I'm trying to find my boyfriend, but the river is too damn long, and it's too hot out here to think."

A slightly pink hand takes yours, and you come face to face with the very man you have been searching for.

"I win," he smiles, his hair damp from the waterfall, and his cheeks are more than just a little pink, but you have a feeling you look worse. "Now let's go get you out of the sun for a bit, yeah?"

Back in the shade and luxury air conditioning of the cabana, you are sprawled out on one of the Adirondack chairs. Sheishroi brings you what seems like your millionth glass of ice water and readjusts the cold compresses on your neck and forehead.

"How you feeling" he asks, cupping your face with his cold fingers.

"A lot cooler now," you sigh, leaning into his touch. "I felt like I was boiling out there."

"I know, I saw," he says, taking your other hand and coaxing the glass to your lips. "Drink up."

You down the glass in greedy gulps, noticing for the first time the sweet hint of the infused fruit inside. "How did you get behind me? You couldn't have gone all the way around the park in that short of time."

"The river got boring without you after the first bend, so I got out at the next opening. And then I saw you float by. I wanted to catch up with you, but you were moving so fast."

"Because I was looking for you," you murmur. "I wanted to help you, and now you're the one having to take care of me instead of having fun with everyone else."

"I like taking care of you," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides, if you want, we can take a quick nap in the shade and then see how we are feeling about going down those water slides in a little bit."

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @sarah22447 @isaacdaknight @qardasngan

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #nagi x reader #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro x reader #nagi drabble #nagi seishiro #x reader

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heresthestorymorningglory · 5 months ago

Text

Would've Could've Should've

A/N: Hi Babes! :D So uhh….me again with the never say never....this one's a love I've had for...20 odd years and comes clad in yellow spandex....

Another one that was meant to live in the WIP and has taken on a life of its own...

I didn't tell @ken-dom this one was being shared, so she's probably gonna lose it....Sorry xD love you big much.

She’s still been mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist much like everything I've written over the last year and a half.

As always, this NSFW 18+ (Not yet but like...it's getting there ok?)

I wasn't gonna share it today, but with the digital DP&W release I felt I should and @coggedcorset aggressively encouraged as they do <3

Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet.

Enjoy my loves! <3

You sighed glancing down the length of the bar; Logan sat there, like he did every other night of the week. Silent and unmoving, save for occasionally reaching for the half empty bottle sat on the bar top.

Usually he minded his own business, and no one else paid him any mind…usually…the bar wasn’t particularly busy tonight, and you were bored.

You made your way down the bar on the opposite side, stopping where he sat. He glanced up, his brown eyes meeting yours for a brief second before they dropped again to examine a particularly interesting knick in the polished wood of the bar.

“You should eat something”

“No” he spoke into the bartop and you rolled your eyes

“Mmm good, just going to destroy your liver twice as fast tonight, got it”

You reached for the near empty bottle and his hand snapped out with lightning speed, the hint of his metal claws poking out between his knuckles; his fingers warm against the back of your hand…too warm thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol running through his system.

“Leave it” he nearly growled.

“What are you going to do, cut off my fingers?” you rolled your eyes pulling the bottle out of his reach. “You’re done”

He snorted with a laugh “Am I?” claws retracting back under his skin

You ignored him, dropping the bottle back in the well “The spare bed is still made up upstairs if you’re interested”

“Are you giving me an option?” he quipped as you walked around the other end of the bar, going to lock the door and flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’

“Sure,” you smiled sweetly and he cocked an eyebrow “The couch is a little small, but I guess curled up on the floor is an option too”

He barked a laugh, louder than necessary, but given how much he had had to drink you were shocked he was coherent at all.

You flipped off the lights and the bar was cloaked in darkness, moonlight streaming in through the door and windows, giving you enough light to navigate back to where Logan still sat.

He sat up straighter as you came to stand over his shoulder, but made no move to stand. You wrapped an arm around his torso, draping a muscled arm around your shoulders as you heaved him to his feet; this hadn’t been the first time and sadly you didn’t think it would be the last either. The two of you had gotten into a bit of a routine since you had started working here regularly. He leaned heavily against your comparatively tiny frame as you grabbed his worn brown leather jacket with your free hand, draping it over your arm as you lead him to the narrow staircase, minding his feet, knowing full well that one stumble in his clunky work boots would send you both crashing to the bar floor and he was significantly harder to pick up from there.

“I swear you only make me do this on night’s I wear heels” you muttered, using the wall to support yourself in the almost too narrow stairwell as you pulled him up with you.

“I can walk” he slurred

Despite his declaration, his weight leaned heavier against you and as if to prove your point, he misjudged the next step, toe catching on the lip of the step, sending him careening forward, forcing you to catch yourself against the wall, fingernails digging into the flesh of his hip to keep him from smashing his perfectly straight teeth on the stairs.

He grunted, catching himself on the wall on the other side without much success and you sighed as he righted himself.

“You were saying?”

“Shut up” he muttered as you reached the landing, wrenching the heavy wood door open that led to your tiny apartment.

“You should really fix that” he mumbled as you dragged him into the dark room before flipping on the light and kicking the door closed with your foot

“I’ll get right on it” you sighed, finally letting go of the grip you’d had around his waist, causing him to stumble slightly as you reached to pull your heels off. “You know where your bed is” you yawned, draping his jacket over the nearest chair.

“My bed?” he repeated to the back of your head as you made your way to the bathroom.

You turned only enough to look over your shoulder at him standing on surprisingly steady feet, the first three or four buttons of his plaid shirt undone and you had to force yourself to meet his eye.

He’s drunk the little voice in the back of your mind whispered It would be unethical

You snorted at your own inner monologue before answering him “Well, no one else spends as many nights here”

This seemed to be answer enough for him as he sat with a heavy thump on the couch, bending to untie his boots before kicking them off, leaving them haphazardly strewn on the living room floor.

You made your way down to the bathroom, closing the door most of the way behind you as you ran the hot water to wash your face and change.

When you reemerged, you found Logan sitting on the edge of the spare bed, leaned against the headboard, snoring softly.

You giggled softly and seriously considered leaving him there, but thought better of it.

“Logan,” you whispered, touching his arm gently, careful to keep clear of his hands. Nearly being impaled once when you startled him awake the first time he had spent the night was enough.

He hadn’t even stirred at your touch.

You sighed “Any other night and you’d almost take my head off” you muttered

You grunted bending to lift his legs up on the bed and he mumbled something in his sleep as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. Pulling the comforter up around his shoulders you turned off the small lamp next to the bed, nearly jumping out of your skin hearing a slurred “Thanks” from where he laid.

“Just don’t puke on my bed”

You heard him scoff with a laugh as you made your way to your own bed, drifting off to sleep almost as quickly as he had.

***

You turned over in your sleep with a heavy sigh through your nose; a heaviness pressing on your mid-section. You blinked sleep from your eyes as you took a deep breath as you turned over, you jumped slightly when your nose nearly brushed against Logan’s as he slept.

Your shoulders sagged as you sighed a second time, his arm still heavy across your middle as you studied his face in the dark. His face was weathered…not that you blamed him, you knew he’d been through the ringer before he ever graced a stool at the bar. Some he talked about, most he didn’t…you assumed. He was handsome still though, ruggedly so. You watched as his forehead creased with worry; he was dreaming.

He dreamt a lot, or more accurately had nightmares a lot. You wondered if he thought the drinking helped; they seemed to be worse on the night’s he drank heavier…you had tried pointing that out once and nearly lost a limb because of it. Logan wasn’t the most…level headed man; although you could say with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t ever hurt you…anymore.

You turned over to the best of your ability, still trapped under the dead weight of his arm. He hadn’t even noticed, just carried on mumbling incoherently in his sleep, jerking slightly. You reached with a hand to brush your thumb gently across his cheek and his features softened instantly as he relaxed under your touch.

“Shhh” you cooed, feeling his fingers twitch slightly against the small of your back “It’s okay, you’re safe” you whispered, his arm instinctively squeezing tighter, pulling you closer.

It was that exact moment that it occurred to you that Logan was no longer wearing a shirt….or pants…

You pressed your lips together in a hard line, wanting nothing more than to shake him awake and immediately demand an explanation, but you didn’t. This hadn't been the first time you had woken up with Logan next to you…. although it was a first for him to be sparsely clothed.

Instead, and in spite of yourself, you settled more comfortably against him, tucking your head under his chin and closed your eyes, letting the heat radiating from him lull you back to sleep.

***

The sun streamed in through the window far too early, and you cursed yourself for not remembering to close the curtains the night before.

You tried to roll over on your back and were met with a wall of resistance. Very warm resistance.

You shifted with a scoff, reaching to shove him.

“God, get off me, you're so hot” you whined, trying in vain to move away.

A grunt of response over your shoulder as Logan stirred awake. “Fuck” he growled, shielding his eyes from the light against your shoulder.

“That's what you get for drinking half the bar” you quipped, immediately gasping with surprise as his teeth found purchase in that same shoulder and you twisted away, turning to face him.

“Don’t bite me you weirdo”

He smirked sleepily with a shrug “Didn't seem to mind it much last time”

“Last time doesn't count” you muttered and he snorted with a laugh

“Just because you say it doesn't count doesn't mean it didn't happen”

“Shut up” you snapped, attempting to pull yourself up out of bed, and failing; Logan's strong arm keeping you pinned against his chest. “You were drunk”

“If memory serves, so were you” he whispered

“Yeah well,” you shrugged against him “That’s the thing about memories isn’t it?”

He sighed against your neck, his warm breath causing your skin to ripple with goosebumps

You closed your eyes and sighed as his fingertips toyed lazily with the fabric of your t-shirt “Logan” you breathed and he hummed questioningly against the hollow behind your ear

“Don’t,” you sighed heavily “W-we can’t”

Another hum as you turned your head and the tip of his nose dragged along the line of your jaw.

“Logan…” you repeated; noses nearly touching at this point

“Why not?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours as he spoke

You could feel your whole body flush with heat as you swallowed hard; mustering up enough willpower to push him back gently by the shoulders; his brown eyes searching your face.

“Because we said we wouldn’t, remember?” your voice was soft, but the words were shaky, you were on the verge of cracking and you had no doubt he knew it. You needed to move, needed to get out from under the delicious weight of his torso, needed to put space between you….

You cleared your throat and wriggled out from under his arm, throwing the blanket back as you clumsily got to your feet.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, propped on an arm “We’re both adults”

“Yes, exactly” you nodded in agreement as you turned away, pushing your hair back off your face “Adults who make informed sober decisions”

“I prefer your drunken decisions”

“You would” you scoffed “Get out of my bed”

“That’s not what you said last-”

“Will you shut up about last time?!” You snapped

“You’re bitchy in the morning” he mumbled climbing out of the bed on the other side.

“That’s rich coming from you” you rolled your eyes in spite of facing away from him as you pulled on a pair of jeans from the night before.

You came around the end of the bed, pushing around him as you pulled open the drawer to your dresser, digging for a clean shirt before looking up at him “Turn around”

He scrunched his nose slightly “Why?”

“What do you think this is, a peep show?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before”

“Oh my god” you rolled your eyes again and Logan just shrugged

“Well it isn’t”

You sighed, not really having time to argue, you pulled your t-shirt over your head, dropping it on the floor at your feet. You looked up at Logan and he wasn’t looking back, you had been ready to give him shit until you noticed his eyes were fixed on your collarbone, and the ugly scar that disappeared under your bra strap. You pulled the clean shirt on, the scar covered underneath…at least most of the way; half an inch or so still poked out from under the deep v of your shirt. Logan’s eyes hadn’t moved.

“It’s fine” you spoke softly, snapping him from his thoughts and he met your eye. His usual grumpy scowl was more of a pout. “It’s fine” you repeated

He just grunted in response and you made to move around him to finish getting ready. “Everyone knows I shouldn’t be allowed around sharp objects” you joked with a gasp as he grabbed your wrist as you walked by, stopping you from going any further and turning you to face him. He towered over you, the man was unnaturally large…you often wondered how you managed to haul him up here multiple nights a week by yourself.

He hadn’t pulled you against him, but he stood close…too close.

The hand not holding your wrist slowly reached to push back the collar of your shirt, exposing more of your scar. Your free hand reached to close over his, keeping it in place.

The room was quiet for a beat before you spoke again, neither of you moved.

“That’s not why” you whispered; you were looking at him, but he was looking at the jagged raised skin across your collarbone.

You curled your fingers around his hand still resting against your chest. “I figured you would have forgotten” your voice still soft

His eyes met yours then, no hint of humor in his features.

“It’s fine,” you smiled gently “I lived”

“Barely” he finally spoke

“Well that’s what I get for trying to wake Edward Scissorhands from a nightmare”

He just glared

“Come on grump,” you changed the subject turning toward the door “Put some clothes on, you owe me breakfast”

“Owe you?” he repeated, letting you walk away

“Yeah,” you nodded, turning to look over your shoulder as you stood in the doorway “And I know most places have a pretty lax dress code, but I don’t think yellow boxer briefs are gonna cut it”

***

Despite having gone your separate ways after breakfast, Logan found his way back to his favourite bar stool by nine thirty. You watched him reach over the bar top and grab the bowl of peanuts you kept tucked underneath for when he inevitably showed his face. He had changed, you noticed, swapping the red flannel he’d had on this morning for a blue one.

You handed the guy across from you his change as he blatantly looked down the front of your top and you fought the urge to deck him as he dropped a twenty on the bartop.

“So..uh,” he started and you would bet it took every ounce of strength he had in him to meet your gaze “What time do you get off?”

You laughed lightly taking the money off the bar and shook your head “No thanks”

“What?” he pressed, “You got like a boyfriend or something?”

“Or something” you smiled politely

“Well he’s not here is he?” the guy tried again

“Well,” you shrugged, scrunching your nose and glanced down the bar before looking back to him.

“That guy?” his face twisting in disapproval as he looked down the bar at Logan who was finishing off his first round of peanuts. “You know who that is don’t you?”

You raised your eyebrows, straightening your stance

“He-”

“You can leave now” you cut him off “Thank you”

“But-” he looked from you down to Logan and back at you

“What can I say,” you smiled “I like ‘em sloppy”

The guy opened his mouth to say something more and thought better of it, closing it again.

“Wise choice” you rolled your eyes before turning on your heel and making your way down to the end of the bar where Logan sat.

“Fancy meeting you here” you smiled setting his usual glass in front of him and refilling the empty bowl

He took the glass, nearly draining it before putting it back down “You changed”

You laughed lightly with a shrug, handing him the whiskey bottle. “This outfit gets me better tips”

He looked up with a raised eyebrow as you gently tossed the twenty you’d just been given on the bar in front of him. “Doesn’t have pockets though, hold on to that for me, would you?”

“What do I look like, a bank?” he grumbled

“No,” you smirked “But I owe you”

His eyes narrowed again as he studied your face “You’re giving me your tip money?”

“No,” you said again

“But you owe me?” he asked, lines in his forehead deepening

You giggled, walking around the bar, intentionally walking too close to where he sat, brushing against his broad shoulder. You knew you were flirting with disaster, but you had started to regret not taking him up on his offer this morning….against your better judgment…and getting under Logan’s skin was so easy, sober or not.

“Stop it” he warned

You stopped mid stride, chest purposefully pressed against his shoulder. “What?”

He glared and you smirked “You're so easy to rile” you teased, messing up his hair “I thought it was nothing you haven't seen before”

“You wanna play this game?” He narrowed his eyes

“Who's playing?” You leaned to whisper next to his ear.

He growled and you giggled before walking away to make your rounds.

#fic #logan howlett #logan x reader #logan wolverine #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman wolverine

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transman-badass · 2 years ago

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Why You Should Read Through the Yellow Window [when it's finished] Reason #1

It's a free novel-length cosmic horror e-book set in the Cthulhu Mythos.

Yes.

100% free.

You'll be able to tip me and the people connected to creating it through links within the book, but you will not have to pay a cent for this story.

So if you like horror stories inspired by Silent Hill, The Magnus Archives, and yes, Malevolent - frightening other dimensions with aesthetics like a corrupted art deco Wonderland - a vibrant, diverse original cast - appearances from Classic Mythos characters like Walter Gilman, Henry Armitage, and Randolph Carter - found families held together by trauma and determination - hot antagonists - trans protagonists with character arcs not revolving around being trans - and the ever stretching shadow of the King in Yellow...

... Maybe give my blog a follow? :)

#writeblr #writeblr community #cthulhu mythos #lovecraft mythos #wip: psi #wip: yellow window

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sceletaflores · 7 months ago

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•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag angel baby @guiltyasdave <3 • 18+ under the cut! MDNI!

wip #1 • far too familiar a stranger…feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

a long time ago, logan howlett knew a woman with your face…

i couldn’t not write a ‘worst!logan coming face to face with his tragically dead love interest but from wade’s universe after wade forced her to help them stop the TVA and hating her for bringing up that time in his life until he doesn’t anymore’ fic.

it's crimson because i felt that making whole new mutant reader would be sort of confusing so this fic is in the to the bone universe but it's not the same timeline...if that makes sense lmao

Wade Wilson is the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world. It’s really something you should have known sooner, like ‘the very first day in your new place ending with him breaking in through your window fully suited up after counting the floors wrong and bleeding all over your brand new pottery barn throw rug because he was still a little too concussed to walk’ sooner. Even after that whole fiasco left you with a broken window latch and a beyond fucked non-refundable $80 carpet, you still let yourself entertain his crazy. Just like everyone else whose life Wade crashed into, both physically or metaphorically. And once he's in, you can never really get him back out again. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is your fault. Maybe getting thrown into a barren, dusty void with two somewhat failed X-Men is just all your bad karma manifesting in one huge finger from the universe.

wip #2 • red and yellow kill a fellow! feat. logan howlett & wade wilson

logan doesn’t appreciate you letting wade get one up on him…

finally finally finally getting off my ass and writing logan x reader x wade! i was inspired by this one episode of satc (which is like my favorite show ever bee tee dubs) where charlotte goes out with two guys at the same time and she has sex with one but not the other until one of them catches her with the other guy and they all break it off.

my vision is a little different cause instead of getting mad and leaving when logan finds out reader fucked wade and not him, he figures it's his turn to get even. aka wade in the cuck chair and loving it.

The three of you pass a BMW sitting in a no parking zone, all four windows rolled down as Madonna blasts through the speakers. "So," Wade says, voice breaking the silence for the first time in five minutes. "Who white-washed your guts better?" You nearly trip over your own feet, whipping your head to gape at Wade. "Fucking excuse me?" "You know," Wade shrugs, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask. The leisurely pace of his stroll not slowing, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Who carved the lyrical railway better?" He just keeps going as you stare at him with a repulsed look on your face. "The number one stud that's stuffin' your muffin? That's takin the ol' bald-headed gnome for a satisfying stroll in the misty forest. Pick one hot stuff, they all mean the same thing." Before you can even answer there's a rough, questioning grunt from your right and your stomach flips. Oh. Logan, he was still here too. Still here and right next to you, listening. Oh yeah. "You fucked?" You still haven't slept with Logan yet. You turn to him face slowly, eyes a hair wide as you take in the sharp raise of his brow. "Um..." "Whoops," Wade snorts from somewhere behind your shoulder. "Cat's out the bag."

wip #3 • it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me) feat. logan howlett

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

the same requested sub!logan fic from last wednesday just with a new name and weirder energy! like this has really gotten away from me and turned into something that i can't really explain well enough to make it sound like chill...

lots of religious imagery and symbolism...and some metaphors of cannibalism...idk i'm just a girl with religious trauma and a weird blood fetish sue me.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church. The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of it like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship. Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion. The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. The sound of your name pulled from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered. You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @superhoeva

#wip wednesday #plus literally all the other wips from last wednesday #i'm writing like seven different things rn #why do i do this to myself?#i'm gunning to post literally anything tonight lmao #like anything I finish #out of SEVEN #cause i'm an IDIOT #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson smut #deadpool x reader #deadpool smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Life in the City 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: I think I'm addicted to thick men.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Tuesday sees a new block in your calendar. The three hour meeting stands out in the internal calendar as its highlighted bright yellow. You don’t know where it’s come from. You’re nervous.

Have you done something wrong? Is this a firing? Does that really take three hours?

You try not to let your innate insecurity get the best of you. You click on it but the new window offers little more than the time. All participants are hidden and there’s no description aside from ‘meeting’. The only other information is the conference room number. Right, so you’re going to implode in the hour leading up to it.

You try to focus but the Excel lines are much tighter than usual. They seem to blur together as you file through a thousand different possibilities and none of them are good. What do you do if you are in trouble? If you do lose your job? You have nothing to fall back on.

You get up ten minutes from the start of the meeting. The building is still new to you and you have to check the placards on the wall to make sure you’re at the right conference room. The door is already open and you slow down as you see Tony strut through ahead of you. This definitely seems off. He’s one of the top execs…

What if it’s a mistake? What if you were added by accident? Maybe you misunderstood it. Maybe it was a notice to stay away. Oh, you’re so confused.

You enter the room and hug your notebook to your chest. The table against the far wall is arranged with trays of catering; pastries, fruits, veggies, quiche, all sorts of delights. Alongside the treats are coffee and tea and a frosty jug of water.

Tony helps himself to a cup of coffee and several tarts. Several other seats are already filled. You vaguely recognise them, not all by name, but you know they’re from various departments. You sit at the table and lay your notebook down, nervously gripping the spiral as you flick your thumb against the tip of the pen slid within.

No one else seems to notice you. They all know each other and chatter among themselves. Five including you. Not very many at all. You wait, wondering who called the meeting as no one seems in a hurry to begin.

The door clicks but you’re the only one who hears it as they rest or deep in conversation. You peek over as Thor strides to the head of the table, stopping behind the high-backed chair.

“I hope you all helped yourselves to the wonderful treats,” he smiles, “don’t mind me as I grab a few before we begin.”

He carries on to the trays and you look down at your notebook. You open it to the first blank page and slide your pen free of the coil. You wiggle it between your fingers as you wait. Surely, it can’t be disciplinary. There’s food and Tony is one of the top guys.

Thor returns, a healthy mound of sweets and fruits on his plate and a steaming cup in the other. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, sighing as he peers up and down the table. You shrink down as you sit at the opposite end.

“Well, we are all here,” he declares, drawing the silence of the rest. They all turn their attention on him. “I think some of you already know why I’ve brought you here but we have lots of time to get filled in. We’ll be taking breaks of course but we won’t waste time, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” your voices reply out of turn.

“We will be working on a very special project. It’s big news that we’ve acquired Onyx Row and it’s all well and good to put a pretty bow on it and send out a release, but we have to handle all that background noise. We have to figure out how that works,” he explains.

You’re almost hypnotised by his voice and the way he moves his hands as he speaks. He’s so confident and carefree. You envy him as much as you admire him.

“You have all been handpicked to take this on,” he pauses to look at each and every one of you. “We need a strong team. We’ll have new clients to take it and to retain, we’ll have new profits but new expenses as well, and we have a lot to learn about OR. We all know things are not always transparent in acquisitions.”

There’s a murmur of agreement as you stay silent. You’re still not sure you’re supposed to be here. You don’t have very much experience, just a certificate you got at the end of your degree. You chew your lip as you stare down the table, suddenly caught in the sights of another.

Thor’s blue eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples. You blanch and make yourself sit straight. You uncap your pen and quickly scribble in your notebook; Onyx Row.

“Today’s strategy planning,” Thor says, “we’ll toss some ideas around until the first break, then after that, we’ll come up with a ladder.” He stacks his hands over and over as he talks, “figure out how we climb it. Step by step.”

There’s typing on keyboards. You regret not unhooking your laptop but your notebook’s just as good for notes. Tony leans backs as he chews a quiche, crumbs dusting down his jacket.

“Stark, why don’t you write something down, eh? You’re not here for a free meal.”

“That’s what you think,” Tony scoffs playfully but lets his chair snap straight and taps on his touch pad to wake up the laptop.

“Right then,” Thor stands, “I’ve a brief presentation to get us started before we start brainstorming.”

Your stomach swims. The displacement remains but at least you’re supposed to be there. Even if you’re not sure you’re the right choice. Everyone else in the room is a veteran and you’re just you. That’ll have to do.

Or maybe you’ll just show yourself to be a total noob.

🏙️

At the midpoint of the meeting, several new trays are added to the spread. It’s a lot for six people. You finally get up to grab a tea, steeping a bag of green in hot water, then take a small triangle of a tuna sandwich and a few pieces of fruit back to your seat. Despite the ice breakers round, you’re still shut out of the clique-like conversation of the others.

You don’t mind so much. Talk for business, nothing else. This is work. Besides, you’re so anxious you don’t know what you would say. You chalk it up as much to your own inaction as to their blatant exclusion.

The empty chair to your other side rolls back, frightening you as Thor sets down another plate of goodies and sits. You gulp and look at him as you quit your nibbling of the sandwich crust. You clear your throat and wipe your fingers on a napkin.

“Sir,” you greet with a cringing smile, “hi, er.”

“Thor will do,” he assures coolly, “are you enjoying the food?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer, trying to brighten up out of your cocoon, “it’s good.”

“Feel free to have more. There’s plenty to go around.”

“Thank you, that’s… I’m good,” you press your thumb to your index and bend and unbend your knuckle nervously.

“Tea?” He muses as he reaches to flick the small tap dangling from your cup.

“Mhm,” you nod awkwardly, “coffee burns my tum–stomach.”

He smiles broadly, “ah, mine too, but I’m stubborn.” He leans his elbow on the table, his chair turned to face you entirely, “are you nervous?”

Your eyes give you away as they widen at his blunt question. You dip your chin again, “a little. I… you know I only just started, right?”

“Yes, but you have your qualifications,” he insists.

“Yeah, uh, but…” you glance around at the others.

“But, I have faith in you. As I said, I picked every person in this room. You included. I know that new minds are as valuable as more experienced ones.”

“Well, er, thank you for taking a chance on me,” you bit your cheek and force a smile.

“You know, if no one had ever taken a chance on me, I might not be sat here with you right now,” he leans in just slightly, “everyone deserves their chance to prove themselves. I have faith in you, and what about you?”

“What about me?” Your cheeks wobble.

“Do you have faith in me?” He rests his chin in his hand, watching you intently.

“Y-yes, sir, uh, Thor,” you crackle out, “thanks, I…”

“Good,” he praises and sits up, “I’ll let you finish your food, if you don’t mind that I stay and do the same.”

He swivels the chair and picks up a cracker from his plate. You hum in acquiescence, barely able to muster words. The only permission he needs is your nervous reach for your tea. As if you would tell him to go. He’s the boss.

🏙️

You’re finally let free but you don’t feel as much. You have so much more to do now. You carry with you the folder handed out to each member of the room with an exhaustive overview of your session and the Onyx Road contract.

You sit at your desk and take a moment to situate yourself. This is your priority. Everything else is second tier. That’s as much as Thor said but what are you going to do about Dawn breathing down your neck?

You fix the loose button on your cardigan that comes undone now and again, right at the worst spot; the middle. You pull the bottom straight and clear your throat, signing into your computer as you rejig back to work mode.

As you shuffle through the emails you received in your absence, a figure approaches. You delete a redundant communication before you face them. You expect Dawn but instead, an all too familiar face looks down at you. Sitting, Thor seems to tower over you even more than usual. You feel like you should stand as he bends his neck to talk to you.

“I did forget to mention some things early. As you can expect, some details slip through the cracks in such a big project,” he spreads his hand on the corner of your desk.

“Oh, okay,” you grip the arms of your chair as you peer up at him.

“IT will be around to help connect to the shared drives required for the project,” Thor explains as he leans on one foot, hooking the other over it. “You will be dealing with some very important documents. Confidential so you will also need to relocate…” he looks around briefly, “you will be moved to a private office.”

“Uh, wow, that’s… okay,” you nod with a flutter of lashes.

“It’s a lot, I know, but you will be compensated. At special projects rate, no less,” he intones as he drags his hand up his suit jacket and curls his fingers around his lapel. His fingers are so thick. All of him is. And big. You’re getting vertigo just looking up at him. “You be in your new home by the end of the day.”

“Today?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Yes, we move fast around here,” he grins, “but I also wished to tell you that should you require any support, you will come to me. Your supervisor has been informed of your reassignment and your daily duties will be handed out to your colleagues for the duration of this project.”

“Uh huh,” you croak out, “that makes sense.”

“You understand, this is a big assignment. It could require late nights and… business trips.”

“Yes,” you lie. You really hadn’t considered that. In the contract you signed, it was for a desk, there was no travel, no overtime.

“Another matter for us to deal with. Travel pay, extra hours…” he drones as if bored.

“I understand,” you murmur.

He drops his hand to frame his hip, pushing back his jacket as he stays leaned against your desk. His eyes stick to you as they storm in mystery, “I like that sweater. It’s cute.”

You look down at the flower embroidery and your cheeks singe. Compared to him and the other execs, you were a touch underdressed. That’ll probably need to change too.

“Uh, yeah, I…” you fix the loose button again, “sorry, I’ll… I’ll buy a blazer.”

“I mean it,” he drags his hand from the desk and stands straight, “don’t buy the blazer, that suits you better.”

You crane your neck to look up at him again, “thanks, sir,” you fold your hands in your lap, “I… like your tie.”

You immediately want to disappear as the words trickle out. You sound so stupid. He touches his blue grey tie patterned with white paisley and examines it.

“Not one of my favourites, but thank you,” he chuckles. “Right,” he snaps his fingers, “much work to do. For both of us.” He shifts back on his sole, “don’t forget what I said, if you need anything, I’m your man.”

He winks and spins on his heel. You watch him go as tension raises your shoulders. That was awkward and painful. You’re already doubting your place in this whole thing. Before you can turn your chair back to your desk, you don’t miss the errant gazes in your direction. You ignore them as best you can but they sear into your back. You have witnesses to your humiliation, great.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #life in the city #superman #avengers #mcu #dcu #dc #marvel

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ruth-westside · 8 months ago

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Trailblazer Track Guide (WIP)

Want the Trailblazer Track rewards but don't have time/can't be bothered to grind for them more than necessary? Then this post is for you, with maximum efficiency in mind.

This post will be edited as things are found. If others find anything useful that's not already on this list, let me know and I'll add it.

The news page also said quests give points but I can't tell if that means yellow-mark quests or not (maxed account OTL).

If you also want to earn a lot of shillings with minimal effort while you're earning points, see this post for various sources of income including day-specific ones.

From @aryamistwood :

"The amount of points you earn descend depending on how many tasks you do so: Tasks 1-4 = 100pts each Tasks 5-8 = 75pts each Tasks 9-12 = 50pts each Tasks 13+ = 20pts each +450 points daily in the trailblazer track window

Rune carving DOES grant points as a "task". As do all races, quests, chores, daily horse care, collections like stars, photos, dolls, ect, championships…you get the point.

Completing 12 tasks plus redeeming the 450 daily points gives you 1350pts/day (then you can do more for 20 points a pop, as long as you want for the day)

Getting only 1350pts/day, you can complete the path in 17-18 days."

From @djungelskogbear:

"Checked and the Farah stuff, fishing, and petting the magic horses in hollow woods all give points" (this applies to all the HW magics even though they're not blue-marked)

Gatherables Caveat:

Light Wisps do NOT appear to give points. Gardened plants do NOT appear to give points. Only wild ones do. Glyph Puzzles (stationary) do not appear to give points either. Unsure about that one.

Go forth and use this knowledge for good.

Also don't forget to do Josh's daily at Starshine Ranch since it also gives rider XP

#star stable online #star stable #sso #ssoblr #tips and tricks #trailblazer track

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justabigoldnerd · 2 months ago

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ROYGBIV Tag

Stealing @the-golden-comet 's open tag!!! This will be fun AND challenging!!!

Rules: Find a sentence in your WIPs with each color of the rainbow.

Red: "Domovoy"

The moment the prongs slip into the outlet, every light in the house pulses. It's like a power surge, as if lightning has struck nearby. The bulbs buzz, intensifying in brightness. Then they flicker madly, and Solo stares up at the overhead light, confused and concerned. However, it stops as quickly as it began, and the house relaxes into normalcy again. The kitchen is still, the apprehension in the space palpable. Solo tentatively removes his hand from the plug and moves it to the switch. He holds his breath, turns his attention to the red bulb on its base, and flips it on.

Orange: "Children of The Discreet"

Trembling with the struggle of it, Solo pushes himself up on his sore hands and twists onto his hip to see how deeply the ground has swallowed him. The black mud comes up to just above his knee, and shows no sign of giving back its prey with any ease. He tries to wrench his leg free from the hole, but it doesn't budge. Shadowing his eyes with his hand, he looks up at the sky again. Its colors have shifted into ironically gentle shades of pink and orange, with blue encroaching more with every passing second. Solo takes a breath and grabs hold of his leg with hands covered in welts and boils, even charred in some places. He pulls with all of his remaining strength, clenching his jaw so tightly that he can hear the bones creaking. Inch by inch, he fights to free his leg from the iron grip of the bog.

Yellow: "Are You Afraid? (However Could You Not Be?)

Illya had begun counting time in sleeps, trusting his circadian rhythm to keep him in check. The woods were silent for three sleeps, and during that time, Illya had been able to half-drag himself to the small couch so filthy he couldn't tell what color it was meant to be. Red? Brown? Was it green, or maybe yellow? Worst of all, could it have once been white?These thoughts floated around his skull on the brink of the fourth sleep in the cabin, until he was shaken awake by that familiar, ravenous shriek. Hollow, like a cry bouncing off the walls of some unseen cavern, yet blood-curdling in its voracity. The wet sounds of agony and rending flesh was unmistakable.

Green: "Untitled Hostage Situation Gone Wrong"

Turning his attention back to the situation at hand, Solo locks eyes with the girl. She's been sobbing– her sea-green eyes red and puffy, and her nose raw. Her dark hair, nearly the same shade as Gaby's, is frazzled and tangled. Her teeth chatter and she stares at them pleadingly. She can't be more than six years old, but she is handling her position like a seasoned militant. Solo gets a sickening feeling that she's been here before. That she knows not to move, to speak, to even breathe or else.

Blue: "Waiting for 'Hello'"

The sharp retort Gaby clearly has prepared for him is stopped short by a woman placing two drinks in front of them. She gives Gaby a flirtatious smile before disappearing back into the evening flow. The White Mule is an unimpressive dive bar, with flickering fluorescent bulbs, a poor selection of liquor, and a single television in the high corner that is always broadcasting some fuzzy football game with subtitles so large they take up nearly the entire screen. On the right nights– or the wrong ones, in Illya's opinion–, one could find a dozen or so blue-collar men crowded around its humming glow, screaming in various stages of grief or joy. It's more a headache than a bar, and the faded, bucking creature painted on the window tells its age. But it is equidistant from both of their workplaces and happens to be the place they first met, so the bar became a sentimental thing. It also serves as an emergency rendezvous if one of them needed to speak to the other as soon as possible. For those reasons alone, Illya can ignore the hard water stains on the glasses and the mediocre drinks.

Indigo: "I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)"

(this part has technically already been posted but the work is still a WIP so I'm counting it lmao)

“Thank you,” he stood from the table and made for a side door, Illya in his wake. The sun had set, leaving the night air with a wet chill that seeped into your bones. The moon hung low in the sky, curved like a sneer in the vast indigo. A familiar hoo sound called from nearby, drawing Illya's attention up to a window ledge. An owl perched on the stone, its feathers ruffled by the wind. It was too dark to make out its breed, but its eyes flashed silver in the moonlight and Illya shivered.

Violet: "Children of The Discreet"

Because the pleasure-pain of it is addictive. Not to mention that past the blistering, Illya's blood tastes divine. It is ambrosial, a little floral in a woodsy, wildflower sort of way. Almost like the violets and henbit of a childhood memory yellowed at the edges. A shudder rolls over his body as the pool of magma settles in his stomach. He feels Illya squirm, his claws raking down his back and welling up trails of half-coagulated blood in their wake. But he doesn't care. It barely registers. Solo just hums a deep groan of pleasure and drinks deeper, drinks until the burn is almost too much, drinks until Illya gasps softly, “Cowboy.”

No pressure tagging @huggiebird @happybean17 @falling-into-peril @heytheredeann @pippinoftheshire

@bighandsforabigheart @kcscribbler @mybelovedillya @cha-melodius @thattripleabattery

@too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @vnyu73 @nicijones @prettyboynapoleonsolo

@fandom-meet-fanthem

And an Open Tag for anyone else who wants to join!!! 💕💕💕

#tmfu #the man from uncle #tmfu movie #illya kuryakin #napoleon solo #gaby teller #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #roygbiv tag #tag game

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hearts-fromani · 1 month ago

Text

AN: hey guys so this is a little wip i came up with it’s not at all that good and doesn’t exactly make any sense it’s basically two strangers making out in ally :p oh but side note i basically got this idea from the first photo and i thought it would be super silly i was also watching ‘how high’ while writing so that’s where the bud scene came from, hope you guys enjoy ;)

erm law x black reader:p

First day and i already want to kill myself, 7 years for residency just for a two year fellowship at a different hospital, think as I walk giveing my self a tour.

Last night was interesting though, that guy and the lighter, we never did get to finish what we started, Speaking of him he never gave my shit back, damn smoker’s always stealing shit.

I turn the corner lost in thought, as I catch eyes on lighter guy, wait what.

I quickly retreat back into the hallway behind me, eyes wide, what in the hell is he doing here?

And why, why was he wearing attending scrubs, I peek past the corner to get a better look and it is indeed him, I’m sure I looked like an idiot but who cares it was like three am, no one should care about what I’m doing anyway.

I freeze as we lock eyes, I see his eyes widen as he seems to excuse himself to walk over to me, god he was fine but shit I gotta run, I turn on my heels and escape down the hall and into an empty patient room.

I crouch under the door’s window, why does this feel like I’m hiding from a killer. Think as I feel the door I’m leaning against open, as he peeks inside just to see me on my ass, ”what are you doing?” He retorted.

“The real question is what are you doing?” I ask as he closes the door and the blind’s behind him.

“Why are you here?” He states ignoring my previous question.

“I work here idiot” I say as I get up and dust myself off, “here on a fellowship” I say as he almost chuckles.

I cross my arms, ”what’s funny?” I ask already annoyed.

“So that would mean you're under me?” He said cocky.

“Doubt it, you don’t look like much” I scoff.

He smirked, “you didn’t seem to think that last night.”

I pause, damn it, I knew he would bring that up, “speaking of last night you never gave me my lighter back.” I put my hand out as if he would have it on him.

“You act like I have it with me?” He scoffed.

“I could never tell with you smokers”

“Your the one who asked me for bud”

“And nigga your the one who asked me for a light your no better?” I scoffed

“girl hurry up! We don’t have all fucking night!” My sister yelled from downstairs.

“Wait a damn minute!” I replied as I almost fumbled down the stairs trying to put on one of my heels.

“I’ll laugh if you fall” she retorted as made i down surprisingly without falling.

“Ha!” I cheered as she scoffed and walked out the door to the car, “where are my keys?” I yelled out to her.

“I have them, come on!” As soon as heard that I ran out and got into the driver's side, once we put our seat belts on she handed me my keys and started the car, as I pull out I finally ask, “where are we going” I say as I see her hook her phone up to the car, “you’ll see just follow the directions” she said before she put on some music.

———

As we get to the place, I’m excited, it’s not a huge surprise or anything but it’s a small hole in the wall bar, well actually, upon closer inspection it looked to be a jazz bar, and it didn’t have a lot of people, better for us.

Once we walked in, the little bell above us rang almost like a convince store, redish yellow lights decorated each corner lighting the dim bar up, and there were posters everywhere, the sound of trumpet hit my ears, I turned my head to see it was coming from a record player, I gave a grin as I noticed a black haired man sitting on one side of the bar.

And he was, well how do I put it, almost pretty, but so fine.

I’m sure my sister saw me scheming because she pulled me to the side and ordered us both a pina colada.

Small chatter surrounding us drowned out our conversation, as well my likelihood of hearing what that stranger sounded like, god this makes me sound so creepy.

“I need some air” I said with a raised voice so my sister could hear me over everything else that was going on.

She just nodded while drinking her drink, but I’m sure that meant be quick.

I almost gasped as I reached outside, my face felt hot, which meant I was tipsy, great.

I leaned against the brick entranceway to the bar hoping to cool down a bit, god these jeans made me look good but they were a pain in the ass, don’t get me wrong I love low rise that is until they start to show more than the waistline of my underwear.

I sigh out, “I wonder if someone has weed” I mumble out as I see that stranger looking at me from the other side of the entranceway.

“You got a light?” He spoke out, as I held out a lighter.

“You got bud?” I asked as he smirked, holding up a pre rolled joint, I smiled as I made my way over to his side, hair bouncing with each step.

I handed him my lighter as he lit it and handed it to me first, surprisingly.

I take a hit as he looks at the writing on the lighter, to my surprise I hear him start to laugh, I almost cough on the smoke as I remember what’s on it, funnily enough just as I remember he said it, “’if you want to fuck, smile when you hand this lighter back to me?’” He read back to me as he took the blunt.

“Only thing I had on me you know” I shrugged as he smiled and handed it back, I almost gasped and looked at him like he had two heads.

“You want too..?” I look him up and down, I saw a slight smirk on his face as he took the blunt from his lips.

“Yeah why not?” He said as he had one arm against the wall over my head, the one with the burning blunt in, he did this effectively pinning me with his body, and god.

He held eye contact with me until he asked, “can I ?”

I matched his smile, ”go for it”, and he really did go for it, he kissed me almost roughly.

I matched his vigor almost immediately, he kissed me until he left me panting, that was when he holsted me up against the wall, I wrapped my legs around him and braced myself by holding onto his shoulders, I take a glimpse of the door, anyone could walk out and see us, anyone.

The thought almost made me…

I push that thought, far, far back as I see him light the blunt again, I look at him questioning as he handed it to me, at first I thought nothing of it and took a hit, as I did that he started to kiss and suck on my neck, my breath hitched through as he bit me, i coughed slightly, as I moved the blunt from my mouth for a second, I take a breath as I heard him and felt him lick the spot he bit, “go ahead, take a hit.” I almost looked at him like he was crazy.

Fuck does he mean go ahead, I could barely control my breath as he kissed me, let alone biting, but against my better judgment I take another hit and move my hand to his neck, my breath hitches again as I stifle down a moan, god how can biting feel so good?

My breath pauses, smoke going down my throat with no where to go, “how about you be good and Inhale? Wouldn’t want to waste it” he said smoothly, god he sounds good, I felt him kiss and soothe the spot he bit as he kissed down the my chest, i’m so glad i wore a halter top. I quickly inhale, letting the blunt stay there as it finally burnt out.

he soon brought his knee up steadying me against the wall, and me being almost desperate for some friction, I grinded myself against his leg.

Was this desperate? absolutely. Did it feel good? yes.

Small pants left me as he sucked on my skin leaving yet another bruise, I saw his eyes wander back up to mine, suddenly he moved his hand from my thigh and took the blunt from my mouth and kissed me, my hands flew to his hair, it was black and soft.

As well pulled apart from each other I had to ask, “what..is your name?”I say in between labored breaths, ”law” he replied equally as breathless as he pulled me in for another kiss, this was almost passionate For two strangers at a bar.

At one point I was so lost into him I started to grind my hips into his a action he returned in kind, he just groaned into our kiss, god.

Who knew a kiss could be so hot and steamy.

well i read a lot but damn.

Through closed eyes I felt the collar of his button up and pushed it away from his neck.

Once I broke the kiss, I kissed along his jawline and down along his neck as he pressed his knee onto my clothed cunt, I couldn't help but gasp as I felt his free hand slide up my back, christ.

I’m sure he lit the blunt again because I felt him take a hit, my eyes drifted back up to him, as I got the idea to test something.

As he was in the middle of taking another hit I bit his neck, almost hard enough to draw blood but not hard enough to actually hurt him, a slight gasp left him, but not one of discomfort.

Did he like pain?

i felt him almost shudder against me as he leaned his head on my shoulder giving me more access to his neck, a few seconds past before he almost sprang up, this giving me time to really look at him, he looked almost exhausted, the black under his eyes really showing that fact, just who is this guy?

Soon he went back into our kiss, he had me pressed tight against the wall as his hand gripped my ass. At this point we were dry humping each other, and god he felt good.

We were both out of breath, the blunt got Ashed against the wall at some point, and i soon realized I had left my sister and my drink alone, fuck that’s twelve dollars gone.

“Wait..” I sigh out as he kissed my neck again, fuck me, god.

He just hummed a response, his hips rolled against mine.

“Wait, law..” I placed my hands on his shoulders, god i don’t want to stop but I should, I have work tomorrow.

“Yeah?” He looked back at me, as we made eye contact i went in for another kiss, savoring this stranger.

Once we parted I spoke, “I have to go” I said almost sweetly.

oh and if anyone wants to be tagged from now on just lmk :9

#law one piece #one piece #tw weed #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #smut? maybe #dry hunpimg. im hard.#law x black reader #erm idk what else to put #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law #needy?#tw drugs ig?

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