#yet he leaps and holds for the cheeks…huh

[wintermav]

WOULD.

[inseobts]

may I request another Luffy x fem reader please. Where Luffy is always picking up y/n like anywhere and everywhere they go (they aren’t dating or anything yet either) and he’s just always carrying her. Maybe even one day she’s wearing a skirt and so she freaks out when Luffy goes to grab her but Luffy holds her skirt down while carrying her. I don’t know I feel like it would be cute. Thank you!

Up You Go!

luffy x fem!reader

words count: 1.6k

tags: fluffy, sfw, humour, jealous luffy

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“Y/N! Let’s go!”

You barely turn around before Luffy swoops in and lifts you off the ground like you weigh nothing.

“Luffy! I can walk, you know!” you squawk, flailing a little as he plops you onto his back.

“But this is faster” he grins, arms hooked under your thighs like it’s second nature.

You’re used to it. Kind of.

Everywhere the Straw Hats go, it’s the same thing. Town visit? Pick-up. Battle? Pick-up. Beach walk? Pick-up. You’ve lost count how many times he’s carried you.

“Oi, Luffy, you treating her like your personal backpack again?” Zoro calls out, amused.

“She is more comfortable than my backpack” Luffy says proudly.

“I am not a backpack” you mutter, crossing your arms from behind him.

But you don’t jump down. Luffy’s warm. His back is strong and steady. Plus…he hums when he walks, and it’s kind of nice.

Later that day, Nami wants to shop in the market square, so you tag along. You’re wearing a cute skirt, just something light and breezy. Totally forgot that Luffy might be Luffy.

You hear his steps behind you.

You turn slowly “Luffy, don’t you dare.”

“What?” he blinks.

“No pick-ups! I’m in a skirt!”

“Skirt?” he repeats, glancing down.

“Yes. Skirt. No pick-ups. Bad idea.” You point a finger at him.

He tilts his head like you just told him food is illegal “But I always carry you.”

You groan “Not today. Please.”

He frowns “…Okay.”

You’re shocked. He listens?

“Thank you—AH!”

Too late. Arms wrap around you, lifting you straight off the ground.

“LUFFY!”

“Don’t worry!” he says, grinning as you flail.

Then his hand tugs your skirt down, carefully holding it in place as he walks.

You freeze “…Did you just—?”

“Yeah,” he says simply “You said skirt.”

“…And you still picked me up.”

“Yup!”

You sigh, but your cheeks are hot. Luffy, meanwhile, just hums again like it’s the most normal thing ever.

“Next time, I’m wearing pants...” you mutter.

It’s been three days since the “skirt incident”.

You thought maybe Luffy would chill after that. Stop treating you like some kind of travel-sized accessory.

But no. You hear him before you see him.

“Y/N!”

You turn around, already tensing “Don’t you—”

Too late. He’s already in front of you. But this time, he doesn’t throw you over his shoulder or anything like that.

Nope.

He scoops you up. Like a princess.

Both arms under your back and knees. Smooth, gentle.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“W-What the hell is this now?!”

“You said skirts were hard,” Luffy shrugs, totally calm “So I’m trying something new!”

“You can also not carry me at all! That’s also an option!”

He just blinks at you “But I like carrying you.”

Your face heats up. You glance around, Sanji’s dropped a tray, Robin’s smirking, and Usopp’s whispering something to Chopper.

“This is so embarrassing!” you hiss, curling a little into his chest.

Luffy just laughs “Why? You look cute like this.”

You go still “…What did you say?”

“Huh?”

“What did you just say?”

He tilts his head “You look cute like this. Why? Did I say it wrong?”

“No! I mean—yes! I mean—ugh!”

You bury your face in your hands as Luffy keeps walking down the Sunny like nothing’s weird.

“Nami’s gonna kill you” you mumble.

“She’ll get over it” he grins.

“I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

You kind of…do.

His arms are warm. He doesn’t drop you. He even adjusts his grip so your skirt stays down and your hair doesn’t blow in your face.

He’s just…too good at this.

You peek up at him “Luffy?”

“Yeah?”

“…You really like carrying me, huh?”

He grins wide “Yup.”

“…Why?”

He shrugs “Feels right.”

Your heart skips.

Stupid pirate...

Sunny is docked at a lively island. Music, food, games... perfect for a break. The whole crew splits up, scattering into the crowd like kids at a festival.

You’re with Sanji, trying a fried octopus ball he insists is “the best in the world”.

“Open up, mademoiselle~” Sanji offers you one with a big, cheesy grin.

You laugh and lean forward, just as—

“Oi.”

Luffy’s voice cuts in sharp and sudden.

You look over your shoulder, mouth full “Mmm?”

Luffy’s standing there, arms crossed. His usual smile is gone. That’s rare. Really rare.

Sanji raises an eyebrow “What’s up, Luffy?”

Luffy doesn’t answer. He just walks over, grabs your hand and picks you up.

Again. Princess style.

“LUFFY!” you yelp “What are you—?!”

“No more feeding her.” he says, glaring at Sanji like he just kicked Chopper.

Sanji sighs dramatically, flicking his cigarette “Jealousy doesn’t suit you... Captain.”

“I’m not jealous,” Luffy lies, squeezing you a little tighter “She’s mine.”

Your brain short-circuits.

“Yours?!” you squeak.

Luffy frowns “Yeah. I mean—not like mine-mine. But like—she’s my crewmate. I always carry her. You don’t get to feed her.”

Sanji puts a hand to his chest “How romantic.”

“Shut up” Luffy grumbles.

Your heart is pounding so loud you swear Sanji can hear it.

“Luffy, you really didn’t need to—”

“Didn’t like it...” he mumbles.

“What?”

“You laughing with him. Eating with him. That’s supposed to be with me.”

You stare at him, stunned “…You really are jealous.”

He scowls at the sky “I said I’m not!”

Then he stomps off with you still in his arms.

“Luffy, where are we going?!”

“Somewhere with no cooks.”

You’re now sitting on a quiet hill, eating takoyaki with your fingers while Luffy sits beside you, pouting.

“…So,” you say after a while, “do you only carry people you’re jealous over?”

“No,” he mutters “Just you.”

“…Why me?”

He doesn’t look at you “Feels right.”

You smile a little. Same answer. But it’s starting to feel like it means something more.

The sun’s almost down by the time you both make it back to the Sunny.

Luffy’s still quiet. Not sulking, just…thinking. You don’t see that often. He scratches his cheek, eyes on the sky, lips pressed in a line.

You’re walking this time. He hasn’t picked you up again.

And somehow, that feels weirder.

You glance at him “You’re not gonna carry me?”

He stops walking. Looks at you. Then shrugs “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

You blink “You’ve been doing it for months without asking.”

He tilts his head “Yeah, but… I didn’t know it made your heart beat fast until today.”

Your breath catches “Huh?”

“You always get all red,” he says, frowning slightly “I thought maybe you didn’t like it. But then Sanji made you laugh, and you got all red then, too. So now I’m not sure.”

You stare at him “Luffy… you noticed all that?”

He nods “I notice you.”

Your chest tightens.

He rubs the back of his neck “I didn’t mean to get weird about Sanji. I just… I like carrying you. Being close to you. Makes me happy.”

“…Even before all this? Before the skirt? The market? All of it?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking right at you “Since the first time.”

You step closer, eyes searching his “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he says “Didn’t know what to call it. Just knew it felt right.”

You smile, heart thudding so loud now you know he hears it.

“So… what now?”

He grins slowly “Now I pick you up.”

You laugh “Right now?!”

“Yup.”

And just like always, you’re in the air, arms around his neck, legs cradled in his hold. But this time, his face is closer. Slower.

This time, he leans in.

His forehead rests against yours “Is this okay?”

You nod, cheeks burning “Yeah. It is.”

And then, finally, finally, he kisses you.

It’s soft. Just a brush. But it’s everything.

Luffy pulls back, still holding you like treasure.

“I’m gonna carry you everywhere now” he says.

You smile “You already do.”

You try to sneak back onto the Sunny quietly. You really try.

But Luffy is still carrying you. Princess style. Smiling like he just found a whole island made of meat. And your lips are pink, your hair’s a little messy, and you’re trying not to look like you were just kissed by the future Pirate King.

It doesn’t work.

Sanji spots you first “Mon dieu…” he gasps dramatically, hand over his chest “He kissed you, didn’t he?!”

“Shhh!” you hiss, trying to wiggle out of Luffy’s arms.

He doesn’t let go “Why? We’re dating now, right?”

You freeze “…We are?”

He nods “Yeah. That’s what kissing means.”

Zoro walks by, towel around his neck “Took you long enough.”

You blink “Wait—you knew?”

He snorts “Captain’s been carrying you like a newlywed for weeks. We all knew.”

Usopp pops his head out of the kitchen “I bet Chopper three berries you’d kiss by today! I won!”

Chopper stomps out after him “You cheated! You saw them holding hands earlier!”

Franky grins from above deck “This is SUPER romantic!”

Brook twirls his cane “May I write a song about this moment? Love On the Deck of Sunny?”

Nami appears last. Arms crossed. Eyebrow raised.

“So. Are you two gonna stop being weird now, or is the kissing gonna happen everywhere?”

Luffy grins “Everywhere.”

You slap a hand over your face “Luffy—”

“What? I like you,” he shrugs “I’m proud.”

Nami sighs “Great. The captain’s in love. We’re doomed.”

But there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Robin, reading nearby, chuckles “Let them be. It’s cute.”

You finally give up and just hide your red face in Luffy’s shoulder. He laughs and holds you tighter.

The crew carries on bickering, teasing, laughing like always.

Only now… you’re his. And he’s yours. And he still carries you everywhere.

And yeah... It still feels right.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Hole in the Heart

Between this and the drunken confession from Leona fic 😭 I must be in my Savanaclaw era… Maybe I’ll write a food-related Jack fic too, who knows www

Imagine this...

There’s a cute guy working behind the counter.

You can only afford to dawdle for so long. Your eyes are supposed to be focused on reading the menu mounted overhead or browsing the glossy breads and cakes on offer. Instead, your gaze drifts up to the employee—a hyena beastman—sheepishly awaiting your order.

He leans on the glass display case, face nestled in his arms, cheek to forearm. His dirty blonde hair sticks up like someone has aggressively ruffled his head. The boy blinks at you with big, blue-grey eyes, mouth permanently etched into a sloped smile that suggests he is capable of stirring up trouble off his shift.

An apron hangs loosely from his lanky frame, and a cap is clamped down between two large, twitching ears. His tail, short and stout, wags like a metronome, in time with the rhythm he taps out with a finger.

Yeah, he’s definitely super cute, you conclude.

“… Hey.”

You jolt at the hand passion waving in front of your face, at his voice. It’s casual and warm, like the sound of an old friend’s greeting after a long day.

The bakery employee lifts his head and quirks a brow. “You decided what you want yet? You’ve been starin’ for a while now.”

W-Was I really staring?!

A hand flies to your face, testing it for signs of self-consciousness. Your skin is flushed and tingles, like flames have been lit under it.

“S-Sorry, I must’ve dozed off,” you mumble, burrowing into your collar and praying that he doesn’t notice. Focus here, you remind yourself. “You have so many options, I’m having a hard time deciding. What do you recommend?”

“Me?” He fully draws himself up, trading his smile for a smirk. “I know just the thing. Hang on a sec!”

The employee peels away and snags a donut from the display case, wrapping it in a checkered napkin. The pastry is plump and full, fried to a golden perfection and covered in a shiny sugar glaze. 

“Oh… It doesn’t have a hole in the center,” you realize.

“The holes are usually there to help the dough cook evenly. We repurpose what’s punched out as donut holes,” he says, eyes glittering with gluttony, “but nothing beats having the whole thing, hole and all.”

“Pfft. When you put it like that, it feels sort of sad.”

“How do you figure?”

“A donut with a hole sounds like a person that’s missing their heart. Some important part of themselves just… poof. Gone.”

“A person missing their heart, huh? You got an imagination on ya.”

D-Did he just compliment me?

Your heart leaps up and lodges in your throat. It’s suddenly difficult to usher your words out.

He shakes his head and turns away, setting to his work. The boy becomes but a blur of activity, and you watch him, mesmerized.

He generously ladles chocolate sauce onto the donut, garnished by a handful of sliced nuts. Then he glops on a healthy helping of custard cream, a spritz of whipped cream, and a big spoonful of berry jam. The result is one decadently sticky pile of sugar with everything under the kitchen sink thrown onto it.

He presents the towering donut to you with a flourish. “Ta-dah! I give you… the Ruggie Special!” 

You gape at it, unsure of what to do or say. There’s no way I can finish this before class starts, you fret—but you accept the donut in a daze, not wanting to reject all his efforts. Your fingers and his graze, sparking a thrill within you.

“What’s ‘Ruggie’?” you ask shyly.

“That’s me.” He winks and points to himself. No, to the name tag pinned to his chest. “Ruggie. Ruggie Bucchi.”

H-He told me his name. You clutch your hands together in an attempt to calm them. Is he flirting with me?

“W-Wow, you have a menu item named after you? That’s cool,” you babble. Oh no—you’re so horrid at small talk, you scold yourself.

“Unofficially, yeah. The boss doesn’t mind if I use the extra ingredients lying around to experiment. Oh, speaking of—” He holds out a hand. “All that extra stuff’s gonna cost ya. That’ll be 700 madol, if you please!”

“700…?!” You startle, as if waking from a dream. The donut’s mountain of topples wobble, threatening to tumble. “That’s over 5 times the cost of a single plain donut!”

“Well, this is a single plain donut with all the fixings,” he corrects you with a snicker. Ruggie points to your Special. The chocolate sauce is rapidly dribbling down, cream leaking into the napkin. “Look, it’s already getting all over you. Better cough up the cash and get to eating it real quick~” 

“Nrgh…” You reluctantly fish out 700 madol and slap the bills onto the counter. “Here. Just take it already.”

“Nishishishi, thank you for your patronage!” Ruggie happily scoops up the money and deposits it into the register. The bills are swallowed up by the metal contraption, as if it is feasting on your misfortune.

Why do I feel like I just got duped by a pretty face?

Your stomach lurches, disappointed with yourself. Friends and classmates always teased you for this. Head in the clouds, too sentimental, unlucky with guys, so quick to fall in love and even quicker to have your heart broken—all phrases they used to describe you.

Someone absolutely hopeless in their flights of fancy. A donut wandering around with a hole where their heart should be, seeking what they lack.

You flush deeper. Maybe I’m proving them right. I’m seeing things that aren’t there.

“W-Well, thank you for your recommendation,” you say hurriedly.

“No prob,” he replies with the tip of his hat. “All in a day’s work.”

A day’s work, duh. Stupid, stupid. He was only buttering you up to swindle you into a sale.

The donut is oozing into your palm now. You frown and attempt to mop what is spilling with your tongue. Ruggie laughs a little—and you’re not sure if he’s laughing with you or laughing at you. Truthfully, you don’t know which you’d prefer.

“Need more napkins?” he offers, a wad of them at the ready. “These’re free.”

“Th-Thank you,” you mutter, grabbing them with your free (clean) hand. “I have to get going, or I’ll be late.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t they all?”

You gather yourself, hurrying to the door and flinging yourself through. It swings as you exit, the bell above jingling and ringing out your departure. The warm, comforting smell of sugar dissipates into the outdoor air.

“See ya around,” he calls after you, a teasing lilt in his voice. You don’t see what kind of an expression he’s making, but you don’t dare allow yourself to look back and find out.

You try to busy yourself with scrubbing clean. A bathroom—you should have stopped by the bakery’s bathroom to wet the napkins, to wash your hands with soap. But you have your pride, and you refuse to march back in, to have him mocking you a second time.

You wipe at your thumb, but the napkin catches and sticks at the corner. There’s a blot there, dark-colored and bleeding.

… Huh? What’s that?

You lift the napkin and squint at the smudged shapes scrawled onto it. Letters and numbers come into view.

Ruggie Bucchi, followed by a series of numbers strung together. A phone number.

Everything in you stills.

When did he…?

You rifle through the rest of your napkins, looking for other hidden messages. Nothing else, just the one. 

But if he passed me his phone number, that means… He’s interested in me too?!

Excitement kicks up in you again. Hope, dancing a little jig.

You melt, pressing the napkin to yourself. Your heart practically beats right out of your chest, as if it wants to see the proof with its own eyes.

Ruggie. Ruggie Bucchi… The quick-witted guy in the donut shop, the boy with an impish grin and fast fingers.

The hole in your chest fills, having found its missing part. Whole at last, tasting sweeter than any confection.

You’ll have to text him first chance you get.

[dark-fanfics-moon]

THE PET Remmick x Reader

Part 4

Synopsis: Remmick will use ALL methods to make you stay. But maybe that backfired a little…

Warning:…It’s smut. Here. I said it. I have never written actual smut before in my life. But Remmick made me want to. Also Remmick is kind of a switch in this. He gives as much as he receives I’ll say. If you do not like smut, do not read. If you like smut, do not hesitate to like and comment. With that, enjoy. 😄👍

Here is part 3:

Irish Gaelic vocabulary used:

A ghrá: My love

Mo mhuirnín dílis: My faithful darling

Le do thoil: Please

Mo chroí: My heart

Táim ag dul chun do scriosadh: I am going to destroy you

Mo shíorghra: My eternal love

Your back slammed against the doorframe as Remmick’s hand tightened around your throat—not enough to crush it, not yet, but enough to make your breath catch. The inn’s candlelight flickered wildly as he shoved the door open, dragging you inside your shared room like you weighed nothing. The door slammed shut behind you with a finality that made your heart leap to your throat. Remmick’s eyes burned with anger, hurt, obsession—all tangled into one. He pushed you back against the wall and stared at you, his face still wet with another man’s blood.

“You ran.” His voice was calm, but the weight in it was terrifying. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath cool and unsteady. “You ran from me, darlin’…after all that warmth. All that progress between us…? Ye disappoint me, pet.”

You tried to speak, to explain, to cry—but his hand was still on your throat. He was pissed.

“Ye got me feelin’ things, darlin’. Things I dunno know what to do with.” He gave a breathless little laugh. “And then ye go runnin’ into another man’s arms like it meant nothin’. Aww…tut-tut-tut. Bad pet. That ain’t kind.”

His lips brushed your ear.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t just drain ye right now. Tell me why I should let ye keep that sweet lil’ heart beatin’ after yer lil’ betrayal ?”

You wanted to lie, but instead you shook your head and a laugh escaped you. You were tired and just wanted all this to end. “Of course I wanted to leave. You treat me like a pet. You make me feel worthless. Why would I want to stay with you ?”

Your words hung in the air like a blade freshly drawn. Remmick froze. For a second, he didn’t breathe. Then his hand dropped from your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck twitching as he slowly stepped back from you.

“Worthless…” he repeated, as though testing the word. He laughed once, low and hollow and raised his hand to his head in disbelief. “That really what ye think I see ye as ?”

He shook his head and looked at you, really looked this time—eyes flickering over your tear-streaked face, the way your chest rose and fell from everything he’d done. His voice, when it came again, was quieter.

“Ye think I dunno what I did to ye ? I ain’t stupid, darlin’. But I’m fuckin’ tryin’ here. I-I brought ye gifts ! I feed ye ! I take care of ye ! What more dye want from me, huh ?” He reached up slowly, brushing his fingers against your cheek as if the gesture could make up for anything. “You don’t know what it’s like…bein’ what I am. Cravin’ warmth every damn day and bein’ told you’re too monstrous to deserve it. So yeah, maybe I hold on too tight when somethin’ good comes near. But to hell with it…You’re the first thing in years that makes me feel alive.”

His eyes searched yours before he shrugged.

“But if ye want to go…I ain’t gonna stop ye this time. Door’s right there. But if ye stay ? You best mean it.”

The silence returned, pressing between you. The firelight crackled. He looked like he was bracing himself for you to walk away. You humphed and took a step towards the exit, but faltered and started thinking about what you would be returning to. Where would you go ? Your brother ? Your aunt ? They didn’t want to see you. They had their own life. Their own responsibilities. The people in your village hated you and you felt even more alone. To make matters worse…You felt Remmick’s hand hovering over your shoulder.

“…Me dolly. Ye know I could be good to you.”

Your breath hitched. That voice sent something skittering down your spine. Not fear this time, not entirely. Something deeper. Loneliness meeting loneliness. A cry in the dark met with another echo. You stared at the door again. Beyond it was freedom, yes…but also emptiness. Judgement. Cold nights and colder stares. No one waiting for you. No one calling you dolly like it meant something more than just another word in the wind. Remmick’s hand still hadn’t touched you, but you could feel its presence in the air just above your skin, like he was waiting for permission.

“…Why would you be good to me ?” you finally asked, voice quiet, tired, but not angry anymore. Just lost. He took a breath, slow and cautious, as if afraid you’d bolt at any second.

“Because I want to be,” he whispered, and his voice cracked ever so slightly. “Not just fer me. Fer ye.”

The next thing you felt was his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder. Gentle this time. Not grabbing. Not holding. Just there.

“I ain’t got much,” he continued. “Ain’t got grace or kindness like the stories tell. But I got loyalty. I got hunger. And if ye stay—I swear on my own grave—I’ll learn how to touch ye right. Speak softer. Bite less.”

A pause. And then, in that worn Irish lilt:

“Ye could teach me. If ye want.”

You stood still, the quiet of the room deafening, the door still there before you. You could just—

You lifted a hand to the handle. You opened it.

Remmick was standing behind you…his nose tracing the back of your neck. You closed your eyes at the feeling and shakily closed the door. You didn’t feel Remmick’s hand moving until it was back around your throat. But he didn’t squeeze. He wanted to hear your heartbeat and whispered in your ear:

“Good lassie. I knew you were smart…”

You could feel the cold pads of his fingers resting at your throat, and behind that—the warmth building in him, drawn straight from the frantic rhythm of your pulse. His lips brushed your ear, and he murmured again, his voice almost fond now:

“Smart and sweet. Me lil’ darlin’. Me dolly…” He inhaled deeply. “You made the right choice. Out there, they’d gut ye with words, starve ye with silence. But here ? With me ? I’ll never let ye go hungry. Never let ye freeze.”

His hand slowly slid down from your throat to your collarbone, then rested just over your heart. He was listening to it. Feeling it beat for him.

“Feel that ?” he whispered. “It’s mine now.”

You shivered and he smiled.

“Are ye scared, lil’ dolly ?” he asked and closed his eyes before pressing his temple against yours. “Or…are ye startin’ to see what I see ?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. His words had scraped something raw inside you—torn through every lonely night, every moment of aching rejection, and left you exposed.

Were you scared ?

Of course. Of course, you were. He was a vampire. A bloodsucker. A skilled manipulator. But what chilled you more…was how much you wanted to believe him. That he could be good. That you could teach him softness. That in all the darkness, maybe—just maybe—you weren’t just something he took, but something he chose.

“…I don’t want to be owned,” you murmured after a moment, barely above a breath. “I want to be loved.”

The silence that followed cracked like thunder.

Remmick didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. The tension in his fingers went slack, not retreating, but changing. His hand on your chest softened until it wasn’t a claim anymore, but a vow. You felt his forehead shift, the line of his jaw clench.

Then, in a voice so broken it barely resembled his own, he whispered, “I know.”

You turned your head, just enough for your temple to press into his. For your breath to mingle with his in the stillness.

“Would you ? Love me ?”

For a long time, the room didn’t move. The fire crackled. The air was thick with tension and promise. Remmick’s grip finally slipped away, replaced by both hands gently cupping your face. And then he kissed you—not rough, not claiming, not devouring.

But trembling. Searching. Trying.

Trying to be good. For you.

In a moment of pure madness, you turned around and kissed him back. Your hands found the worn edges of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, like if you let go you’d be swept away in everything he was—danger, devotion, ruin. His breath hitched, and for a split second, you felt him falter, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really kissing him back. But then he melted into it—one arm wrapping firmly around your waist, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head with surprising tenderness.

His lips, still tasting faintly of blood and desperation, moved hungrily against yours. It was chaotic and clumsy, the way all first true things are. His teeth grazed your bottom lip when he pulled away slightly, breathing hard.

You exhaled shakily, your heart hammering against his chest as your mouth opened to demand. “A-Again.”

That broke something in him. He kissed you again—slower this time, reverent, like your mouth was a prayer and he was starving for salvation. His fingers threaded into your hair. You could feel the tremor running through his body, the conflict of instinct and longing, of bloodlust and heartache, all crashing into the simple truth that he wanted you. You cupped his cheek, feeling the smoothness of his skin beneath your palm, and for the first time, you saw not the monster—but the man clawing his way back from the edge.

“D’not leave me, me darlin’…” He begged.

Your breath hitched.

“I’m not…going to—if you stop giving me reasons to,” you replied. “But you have to meet me halfway.”

A breathless laugh escaped him. “Aye, dolly. I’ll crawl the whole damn way if I have to...”

You kissed a third time. But then suddenly, flashbacks of what had happened to your father seemed to fill your mind and you stumbled back, your hand flying to your mouth in disbelief. Oh no…What had caused you to respond ? To say such things to your captor—your ravisher ? Remmick stood frozen, eyes wide, lips slightly parted where your kiss had just been. For a moment, he looked almost human—as if you’d stolen the breath right from his undead lungs.

Then, slowly, something shifted in his expression. His tongue ran over his bottom lip like he was tasting honey for the first time.

“Well…” he drawled, voice low and disbelieving. “Didn’t see that comin’. Such fire. Such passion. Ye kissed me back, darlin’. Ye chose to. Can’t take that back now.”

You shook your head, still backing away, eyes wide with panic. “I—I didn’t mean to—I don’t know why—”

“Oh, but I do.” His grin was hungry now, but not for blood. “Yer mine, and yer body’s startin’ to realise it before yer mind inevitably does.”

You trembled, torn between shame and something far more terrifying: the fact that a part of you—some wild, lonely part—wanted it. Wanted him. You tried to leave the room, but Remmick was quick and grabbed you again and started kissing your neck. “Ye could go…or ye could just lemme show ye how good I can be.”

You struggled, heart thundering, hands pushing against his chest—but it wasn’t with your full strength. Your body was caught in that awful middle place between defiance and surrender. He felt it. He knew it.

Remmick chuckled softly against your skin, breath cold as ice. “There it is again…That fire. That tremble.” His fingers curled around your waist like they’d always belonged there. “Ye do not want to run, dye me sweetheart ?”

Your breath hitched. He kissed you again—slower this time. Deliberate. Torturously tender. “Ye got no place else to go, darlin’. No one who’ll take ye in, no one who’ll see ye like I do. I could keep ye warm. I could make ye forget what it was like to be unloved.”

You were trapped—not just by his strength, but by the terrible, aching truth of those words. Your breath caught in your throat. His fingers, careful but unrelenting, moved slowly, slipping past the loosened fabric of your shirt as if he were unwrapping a gift he’d waited far too long to open. You closed your eyes tighter, trying to silence the confusion tearing through your thoughts. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to feel—

“You’re shiverin’, me lil’ warmblood…” Remmick whispered, his lips brushing just beneath your jaw. “It’s okay. I’ll warm ye up.”

His thumb swept gently across your stomach as he studied you, his breath heavy against your skin.

“I could take care of ye, y’know,” he murmured. “Make ye feel wanted. Ain’t that all ye ever needed ?”

You were silent—torn between the horror of the situation and the ache of years spent being unseen. His lips pressed just above your heart.

“Just say the word, me darlin’.” He waited, his cold breath still ghosting across your skin, the quiet between you thick as blood. You didn’t pull away—but you didn’t lean in either. You simply…stayed.

And that was enough for him.

A low sound rumbled in his chest, something close to a purr, as if your silence confirmed something he’d long suspected. His fingers resumed their slow exploration, reverent in their touch now, as if you were sacred—something rare, something stolen from the warmth of the world and given only to him.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’ll ask again, every single time. ‘Cause I want ye willing, not afraid. So…Dye want me to take care of ye, me pretty thing ?”

You sighed and looked up at the sky. Father. Forgive me. Which one you were addressing that prayer to ? You weren’t sure. Maybe both…And with that, you nodded in agreement. Remmick smiled victoriously and then lifted his hand to remove your shirt. He then gently pushed it off from your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours.

You instinctively covered your chest and closed your eyes. Alright. Maybe you should have thought this through. It wasn’t too late. You could still back out from this…right ? Remmick paused again, his eyes flicking to your hands covering yourself. His expression softened for a moment, but it was fleeting. His fingers twitched, as though battling with the temptation to disregard your hesitation and continue, but he stayed still.

He let out a soft breath and slowly withdrew his hands, not wanting to rush you, even though his desire burned beneath the surface.

“Yer not ready, are ye ?” His voice had lost some of its edge, replaced with a curious softness, an expression which seemed affectionate. He took a small step back, his gaze lingering on you. The room felt too warm, too charged with anticipation, but he seemed to respect the boundaries you had set, even if just for now.

“Take yer time. I got ALLLL the time in the world,” he told you with a smile. He then nonchalantly picked up his banjo and started playing a tune, humming along as he waited. The soft, rhythmic strumming of the banjo filled the room, its melancholic yet comforting sound breaking the tension. Remmick’s voice was low and soothing as he hummed along, the melody like a lullaby, though it felt strangely out of place given the situation.

His gaze remained on you occasionally, but he didn’t press further. His fingers danced across the strings with practiced ease, and the familiar tune seemed to wrap around the room, enveloping you in its quiet chaos.

You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of calm amidst the storm inside your head. As his melody lingered, you found yourself standing there, caught between wanting to escape and the undeniable pull he had over you. His music, his voice—it was as if he was trying to soothe you, to make you stay without saying a word.

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, thudding in time with the banjo’s rhythm. Despite everything, there was something gentle in the way he played, something that kept you rooted to the spot. As your hands slowly fell to your sides, the weight of the decision seemed to lift for a brief moment. His eyes flicked to you, but he didn’t stop playing, his fingers never missing a beat. He seemed content, as if the music was his way of reassuring you. He didn’t press you. He never would…

Remmick was waiting—waiting for you to decide.

And in the stillness of that moment, as his soft humming blended with the music, you couldn’t help but wonder: What would it be like to just let go ? Your hands then slowly lifted before you could command them to do so…reaching forward. He smirked knowingly, as if saying ‘finally’ and in a matter of seconds, the banjo clattered to the floor, and you found yourself replacing it in his arms, your legs straddling him before your mind could catch up. His cold hands settled at your waist with practiced ease, holding you firm, as if he’d known you’d end up there all along. His lips pressed softly to your bare shoulder, humming that same haunting tune. The vibrations of it hummed through your skin.

“Tha’s it,” he murmured against your skin. “Me good lassie…warm ‘n willin’…”

The warmth of his mouth against your skin, the grip of his fingers on your hips—it was maddening, terrifying, addictive. You never thought in a million years you’d be enjoying this. You felt yourself giving in to the intense sensations, his body between your legs, his mouth on your skin. Your hand moved down without your consent…You opened a few buttons of his slacks. He groaned when he felt your hand start to undo them. He looked down at what you were doing, and let out a sharp intake of breath. He then looked up at you quizzically, studying your face to see how serious you were. His gaze was a mixture of lust and something else…a strange, almost childlike curiosity or mischievous glee.

You didn’t know what you were doing. You were being reckless and irrational, but you were so far gone by now that you couldn’t think straight anymore. You were acting of your own free will…but he was the one driving you wild. His eyes didn’t leave yours, his breathing heavy, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. His eyes were completely dilated, his breathing erratic. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t have the words. What was this ? He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out were ragged gasps and moans of pleasure.

You were shocked and enthralled by this powerful creature, now so desperate for your touch. Your hand slid down, gently stroking him. He let out an undignified whimper and his head fell forward onto your shoulder.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go…He was supposed to have control and show you his talents to manipulate you into submission and yet—

“Stop.” He gasped and tried to push your hand away, but to no avail. You felt a smirk spread across your face at how much you were frustrating him. You moved your hand again, teasing him. He whined and grunted at your touch. You looked at him, studying him with curiosity. You had him trembling from the simple brush of your hand against him.

He had to stop this. He knew he had to stop this…but Remmick couldn’t. He hated himself for how badly he wanted this, how needy he was to feel your touch. He tried to push your hand away again, but you tightened your grip. He groaned, closing his eyes. You were completely in control now.

You whispered in his ear. “What’s the matter, Remmick ? Not used to being lead ?”

He moaned softly at hearing his own name. The way you said it…he had never heard it sound so good before. He gripped the sheets, his grip white knuckle as he fought to control himself. His body was shaking, he couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Damn ye…” He growled the words out from gritted teeth, and the words sounded more like a curse or a plea.

You loved seeing him like this, seeing him struggle. He was so powerful and had always been in control…and now you had this power over him. This monster who could have killed you with a snap of his fingers couldn’t even fight his need for you. He was desperate now. The sound of him groaning and hissing like a beast…you had never heard something so erotic.

“…Lay down.” You instructed and he looked at you, his expression incredulous. He was torn…he wanted to resist, but he also wanted to obey you. His brain was screaming at him to regain control of the situation, but his body was obeying you on its own. He tried to fight it, but something overcame him and he finally relented. He slowly laid himself down with a thump, his back hitting the bed in his eagerness. You released him…but only to unbutton his shirt next. His chest was pale and strong, the lines of his abdominal muscles were clearly defined. You took one finger and gently traced it down the middle of his chest, starting from the top of his sternum, all the way down to his stomach. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell, as he struggled to maintain control. He was already a mess. Every touch of your fingers made him shiver.

He reached up, wanting to touch you as well, but you swatted his wrist away. He was shocked at the gesture and you almost laughed at how wide his eyes became. He looked up at you, trying to contain his surprise and frustration. He then opened his mouth to protest, but you placed one finger on his lips, silencing him.

“Now…You let me do this.” You demanded.

He hesitated before closing his eyes, and his body relaxed back against the bed. This was NOT surrender—he tried to convince himself. A pet should have some fun sometimes. It was…the natural way of things. However, he underestimated your brazenness and didn’t expect the sudden feeling of your lips on his body. Your hands roamed over the pale flesh of his chest and your mouth followed, placing small, delicate kisses on his skin. He inhaled sharply and his hands were grasping at the sheets now. He wanted to touch you…He growled in frustration.

Meanwhile, you couldn't believe it either. This creature…this monster…was under your spell. He was almost whimpering at the feeling of your mouth on his skin. You ran your hand along the ridges of his abdominals, marveling at the power you were holding in your hands. You continued on with your ministrations, running your fingers across his skin…tracing along his body, exploring every inch of his exposed flesh. He let out another small moan, his body shaking under your touch. He was breathing heavily, trying to fight off the sensations. You couldn't believe the raw intensity of the moment…the look of pure helplessness on his face as you—

He let out a strangled gasp, his eyes snapping open and staring down at you in shock at the sight of your lips on his manhood. His body jerked involuntarily. Warm…so warm. He was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing ragged. But you didn’t let up. His breathing grew faster, more desperate. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open anymore. As you continued your ministrations, he felt like he might break, but he didn’t want this to stop. The urge to touch was so strong…but every time he tried, you would stop him.

His body was begging for release, but you were keeping him on the edge. Suddenly, you stopped and lifted yourself up to be face to face with him as you kept stroking him. You wanted to see his face. His eyes were wide open in shock and it was so very satisfying to see him speechless. You flattened his black curls and your mouth hovered over his. But you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction…You kept squeezing and stroking him while staring into his eyes. His mind was reeling. He let out a strangled groan. He was trying to speak, but the sensations you had stirred up in him were making it difficult to form a sentence. He leaned forward, trying to kiss you, but you pulled back, keeping a small gap between your lips. You were teasing him…you were making him wait.

He tried to lift a hand to pull you closer to him, but you gently took his wrist and moved it back to the bed. He grunted in frustration, every part of him begging you for a kiss, for a touch, for anything…

“A ghrá…Please. A ghrá…” He called for you. His breath caught in his throat as soon as he heard his own words. A ghrá. It was an old term of endearment he hadn’t used in centuries…Hearing him speak in his original language made your blood boil in return. You relished the fact that you had him pleading. You leaned in a bit closer, letting him feel your breath on his face. He leaned forward, trying to catch your mouth once more…but you pulled away once again. It was a game…and you were winning. He was panting now, desperate to touch you.

“Please…A ghrá…” He growled. He couldn’t take this anymore…he was losing his mind. “A ghrá…I need ye.”

You looked down at him, enjoying the sound of his soft Irish lilt when he spoke his first language. He was now gripping your hips, trying to pull you closer. He was desperate, but you still would not let him kiss you. You looked down at his sharp teeth piercing through his gums now and the drool smeared acres his cheeks and chin.

…Were you really gonna do this ? Lose your innocence to this monster ?

He suddenly opened his eyes and stared up at you, his face filled with hunger and need and desperate desire. He was a monster…but you couldn’t deny the pull that he had over you. His breath was ragged and his hands were shaking violently, still staring up at you with those dark, lust-filled eyes. He was trying desperately to pull you closer, to feel your body against his, but you were still holding yourself just out of his reach. He growled in frustration.

“Mo mhuirnín dílis…Le do thoil.” He begged, saying things he wouldn't have dreamed of saying before. His body was shaking, his hands trembling as he fought to restrain himself. “Please, a ghrá…I need ye. I want ye. I'm begging ye. Lemme kiss ya…”

You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to remain unyielding. “No. You are still a monster. A creature from hell. A bloodsucking ghoul. You deserve…nothing.”

His eyes widened and his mouth did as well and you could see the sheer desperation in his gaze.

“Ach, a ghrá…darlin’…” His breath hitched as he felt you lower yourself onto him—but still not allowing him entrance. He was fighting for control, his body trembling, his fangs bared. “Darlin’…don’t. AH !”

He let out a moan as he felt himself enter you just a bit. It was so good…bliss. But you wouldn't let him have more. He looked up at you, his expression pained. He was trying to maintain his composure, but he was losing his mind.

“Please…a ghrá. Mo chroí, I need this…please…”

You saw how desperate he was, and you took pleasure in knowing how much power you had over him at the moment. You had him begging for your kiss…you had him begging for your touch. You had taken the most powerful, dangerous creature in the world, and reduced him to a trembling, needy mess. You wouldn’t even let him touch you…and you felt more powerful than you had ever felt in your life.

You leaned down closer to his face and smirked as you repeated mercilessly.

“No.”

He let out a whimper at your words. You had reduced this creature to a needy, desperate mess. He was begging you for the smallest amount of release.

“Me darlin’. P-Please. T-Tell me I can enter ye. Please. I cannot…enter ye fully without an invitation.”

You smiled down at him, almost cruelly. You had this monster completely in your power. “No. You don't get to touch me. You don't get to kiss me. And you don't get to come inside me neither. You don't get anything from me.”

He suddenly roared in frustration. “LET ME IN, YE WRETCHED WOMAN !"

He was screaming now, his whole body shaking. He had completely lost his composure. You had destroyed him, and it was the most satisfying thing you had ever seen. His eyes were red now and he was screeching like a banshee—his claws tearing through the sheets.

“LET ME IN ! NOW !”

He was like some feral animal. He was so desperate, he didn’t know what to do. You leaned down, and whispered to him in the softest voice you could muster.

“No. You don’t get to have me. You don’t get to have what you want. You will do as I say and take what I give you, you filthy bloodsucker.”

He let out a low, animalistic growl as he heard your words. He was almost beyond words. He was ready to do anything, say anything, to have you in any way he could.

He whimpered in frustration, and tried again. “Please…I’m beggin’ ye. I’ll do anything ye want. I’ll do whatever ye say. I’ll give ye anythin’ ye want…ah ! I just need to be in ya !”

Your smirk grew wider as you looked down at him, taking satisfaction in his desperate, begging state. He was at your mercy now. You whispered again, your voice soft, but commanding. “No. Beg all you want, Remmick. You don’t get to have me. Do you hear me, you pathetic bastard ?”

He let out a pitiful whine in response, his face contorting in pain. He was so close, but yet so far…he couldn't take this any longer. His body was trembling, his mind was racing…he needed you. He needed you so badly. He was almost in tears now as he pleaded with you. “Please…I can’t stand it. Please, A ghrá. Please, please let me come in ye. Just a lil’ bit. I know I don’t deserve it, but just a lil’ bit. Please…C’mon !”

You shook your head. You could see how desperate he was, and his sounds of despair were like music to your ears. You leaned down, so your mouth was only a few inches from his ear. “No. You don’t get any more than what I’ve given you. You don’t get anything from me…no matter how much you beg. You don’t get to touch me, kiss me, or come in me. You’ll come without me and I will relish your utter defeat…”

That was it…he couldn't take it anymore.

He screamed out, a primal, anguished howl. He couldn't do this anymore. He was a wreck, his whole body shaking. He pleaded and whimpered and cried. He was beyond words, beyond reason. He let out a strangled cry as he tried to form words again.

“Please, a ghrá. I’m beggin’ ya…I’ll do anythin’ ! I’ll crawl for ya. I’ll get on me knees. I’ll worship ye, mo shíorghra…” His words became more desperate and incoherent. He was begging and pleading. “Please, a ghrá. Gimme just a bit more, please. I’m beggin’ ye. I’ll do anythin’ fer ye, anythin’ ye ask. I’ll kiss the ground ye walk on, just please, PLEASE…let me come inside you. Just a bit. I’ll be so good. I won’t even move. Just a bit is all I’m askin’. Just a lil’ bit, darlin’ please, I’m beggin’ ya, darlin’ ! Lemme inside !”

You felt a surge of excitement in watching him plead so desperately. You leaned down and purred to him. “No. I like seeing you beg like this. It amuses me. But you don’t get to have me. You don’t get to come inside me. You’re going to come without me. You’re gonna spill yourself all over like a dirty pig—like the animal you are—and I am gonna watch. And I am gonna enjoy it. And you will feel humiliated—just like I have been for the past few weeks.”

His body tensed up, and you could see that he was getting close. He looked up at you weakly, helpless to stop himself. He let out a strangled whine, his voice barely above a whisper—one last desperate attempt to make you change your mind. “Please…a ghrá…PLEASE. I’m BEGGIN’ ye, a ghrá. Please, mo shíorghra…”

Your smirk grew even wider as you saw how completely helpless he was to stop himself and he took your wrist to kiss it and lick it. You had him right where you wanted him…You leaned down, your mouth hovering over his ear.

“No.”

As he came, you saw a look of despair and helplessness in his face, and you felt a pang of pleasure. His body convulsed as he came. It was the most intense and pleasurable experience he had ever had in his life, and it was ruined. He had become undone, and he hated you for it. Yet you felt nothing but triumph. He was a monster, and you had utterly, completely, totally dominated him. He hated you in that moment. He looked up at you, completely spent. He tried to say something…but no words came out.

He glared at you. “…Yer gonna be so fuckin’ sorry fer that, darlin’.”

You weren’t impressed by his threat. You sat back calmly. Seeing him on his back like that, so helpless, filled you with complete satisfaction. You looked down at him, a smirk on your face. “Oh really, you’re gonna turn the tables on me now, are you ? Just a few moments ago you were pleading me for even one more little inch of me. So tell me, vampire, how exactly are you going to take your big revenge ?”

He suddenly pounced on you. He pushed you down on the bed with his body, pinning you underneath him. He was so angry, that animalistic look back on his face. His fangs were bared, and his face was mere inches from yours. He was glaring down at you, his breath labored, and he was still trembling. But then, his eyes went down and he grinned.

“Let’s see if ya like that, mo shíorghra…”

He then went straight between your legs and before you could stop him, he licked a strip. You gasped from surprise, and then tried to squirm away. You should’ve seen this coming, and yet you were caught completely off guard. You tried to push his face away, but he didn’t budge. He was pinning your thighs to the bed, and there was no way you could escape as his tongue pried you open. You had felt powerful up until this point, but now he was showing you how much that was an illusion. He wasn’t begging anymore. He was going to do whatever it took to show you just how little control you really had and that whatever control you had over him was because he allowed it. He looked up at you with those dark eyes and gave you a fiendish smile. You felt a shiver go up your spine, and you couldn’t look away from his gaze. He was gloating, enjoying every moment of this. You felt his hands tracing up your thighs, and then he pushed your legs even further apart.

“That’s it…just like that…spreadin’ yerself nice and open fer me, darlin’…Lemme show ye a good time.”

You tried to close your legs, but he held you in place…You were slowly realizing you had maybe bitten off more than you could chew. He then looked up at you from between your legs, and his eyes were so dark. All the meekness from before was gone. He was in control now, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“M’gonna take me time with ye, darlin’…” He grabbed your thighs and lifted them on his shoulders. “Now gimme everythin’ and don’t hold back. I’ll know.”

You looked down and saw him staring up at you with that intense gaze. It was a look of pure hunger, as if he had gone centuries without having enough to eat. You tried to control your breathing, tried to keep your composure, but you couldn’t. Your legs were shaking, and you gripped the sheets. He was powerful…he was dangerous…and he had you praying for your salvation. He held onto your legs, keeping you steady as he slowly ran his tongue over your lower lips. His eyes were locked onto yours the whole time, and you felt gooseflesh go up your body just from the feeling of his tongue. He ran it across your skin, leaving a trail of damp heat and you bit your arm to stop the screams.

He then chuckled.

“All those memories in me head of sex and tastes and sensations…But ye know what ? You’re the first person I’ll be able to use me new skills on.” He looked up at you and his eyes lit up. “…Or ye would like someone else ? Is this body attractive enough to ye, baby ? I could always ask fer another…Stack is rather handsome. Bo as well…We’re all the same. We’re all part of the hive. I could ask them. They wouldn’t mind.”

You had so many thoughts running through your mind. You couldn’t even begin to process this. He was a monster…he was a vampire…but he was also making you feel a lot of things at the moment…and your body would not let you forget that. You felt your heartbeat getting faster, your temperature going up. He knew he was getting to you. He could probably smell it. Then why ? Why would he ask this ?

You looked down and saw the way he was looking at you. Then it hit you. Remmick had lived a long life, but his body would never change—not really. He was short, pale and sickly-looking. He had mentioned that he had tried to attract ‘warm ones’ before with no success. So perhaps in the past his mistresses had asked him for favours such as this. But you did not want to. You shook your head. “…No. I…don’t want another…I want you.”

He looked up at you, a slight surprise on his face. He wasn’t expecting to hear that. “Oh ?”

He was still holding on to your thighs. He was trying to keep his composure, but this time, you had surprised him. He stayed there, his expression curious. You stared into his eyes—panting. He stared back at you, his expression slightly unsure. He was supposed to be in control now…he had you right where he wanted you…but then you had to go and say something like that. He studied your face, looking for some hint of a lie, some hint that you were just telling him what he wanted to head. But he found none. You meant what you said.

For a moment, his smile seemed genuine as he gave it to you before he decided to suck and lick on your nub to make you come. He wanted to see what other sounds he could pull from your mouth. You had surprised him, and it made him hungry for more. He was getting more and more aggressive now, his tongue working over your skin with an inhumane intensity.

You couldn’t take this much longer. Your body was trembling, your mind was going blank…

Meanwhile, Remmick was putting the effort to get you there. He had never had anyone want this body—his body. He had tried to get the warm women to look his way—but this body never seemed to interest them. But you…You writhed under him, your body trembling as he continued to lick and suck. He knew just the right spots to touch, just the right tempo to make you lose your mind. He was driving you to ecstasy…and you didn’t care about anything else. You wanted more, more…You felt yourself teetering on the edge. You were so close, you just needed a little more. You were getting lost in the pleasure he was driving you into. It was all you could think about…He wanted you so badly…and he wanted to watch you come apart.

“C’mon, me pet. C’mon.” He encouraged you. Every brush of his tongue was like a jolt of electricity, taking you higher and higher…you couldn’t take much more. He was pushing you to your limit…he was so good at this. So good…it was like he was made for this. Your hand found itself in his hair. Not to grip, but to wordlessly stroke his dark curls…

He gasped, clearly not expecting that. He looked up at you, a small moan escaping as you ran your hand through his hair. It was such an intimate gesture, so unexpected…he almost lost his focus for a moment and looked up at you to ask again. “…Lemme in. Lemme in, me darlin’.”

His voice was like honey…and it was going straight to your brain. You knew what he was doing to you. He was trying to break you down…to get you to do what he wants. He was trying to make you give in to your primal instincts, ignoring consequences. He kissed your inner thigh.

“…Grá mo chroí. Gimme a home between yer legs. Please.”

You felt another rush of heat at his words. His accent, coupled with that honeyed voice, was like a spell. He knew he had you…he could smell your arousal, and it was driving him wild. His tongue continued to assault you, making you delirious. He was trying to break you down, to get you to throw away all sense of reason.

He looked up at you with those dark eyes.

“…Say ‘yes.’ Just say it. Invite me in, me darlin’.”

His command was like a shot of adrenaline… your mind was screaming to say no…but your body was begging for more. You could feel yourself coming undone. You knew if you said no, he would stop, and the thought filled you with frustration. His licks were getting more deliberate, more demanding. He knew exactly how to work you up, how to break you down. It was like he was playing a symphony, and your body was his instrument.

He looked up at you with those dark eyes, and you could see the hunger in them. He growled, his voice raw with need. “Say it.”

You felt like you were losing your mind. His licks and his touches…his voice…all of it was driving you mad. You were so close…you couldn’t think straight anymore. You felt the words leave your lips before you could stop them.

“Yes ! Yes…”

You heard a low, victorious chuckle come from his throat. He knew he had won. He couldn’t believe that he had actually got you to say yes…he had finally broken you down. He had a satisfied look on his face, an expression of sheer triumph. He was finally getting what he wanted. And he wasn’t gonna waste it. His tongue thrust into you and you cried out in pleasure. Your body was his now, and nothing could stop him. He was no longer asking permission. He was going to have you, in every way possible. His eyes were almost glowing with hunger, looking like that of a wild animal. You felt like he was about to eat you alive.

His hands were gripping your thighs with such strength, it almost hurt. His fingers would probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care. You wanted this…you needed this.

His eyes shone wickedly, and you could see a hint of the animal inside him. This was an older, darker part of himself. Once you came, he did not stop. He kept shoving his tongue inside you…collecting the blood from your broken hymen. When you felt his tongue finally slide out of you, you let out a gasp. You were so overwhelmed, so sensitive…you didn't think you could handle any more.

But he wasn't finished with you yet.

He looked up at you, his mouth glistening with your juices. His expression was dark, almost feral. There was a hunger in him that wouldn't be satisfied…a hunger that wouldn't be sated, no matter how much he took from you.

He climbed up your body to face you completely.

“Táim ag dul chun do scriosadh…” He smirked before slowly entering you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you gasped. You felt him slide inside you, and it was like nothing you could have imagined. He filled you completely, and it felt so good…so right. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he tried to be slow and steady. He was trying to control himself, trying to keep it together…but it was obvious it was taking everything he had. The same words were whispered into your ear, low and rough. “Táim…ag dul chun do scriosadh, mo shíorghra.”

Once he was all the way inside you, he started moving, slowly at first, but his pace quickened with each stroke as drool ran down his chin and he closed his eyes. He was enjoying himself and it showed. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of being inside you. He was still trying to be gentle, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He was getting rougher with each movement. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, and you could hear him murmuring things in his language that you couldn’t quite make out.

Then you heard him bite out the words, “I'm going to destroy you, me sweet one. Yer life is no longer yers. I’m goin’ to take yer life and ye will be here with me ‘till yer soul no longer goes up to the heavens without me corpse…wrapped around ya.”

He was getting more desperate now, his pace picking up…he was losing any self-control he had left. He was murmuring in his native tongue…a stream of words and curses you couldn't understand. But you could still make out the way he was calling you ‘m'aingeal’ and you could hear the way he said ‘ag dul chun do scriosadh’ repeatedly. He grabbed on to you, his fingers leaving marks all over you. He was losing himself in you. And that’s where you heard it…He growled and whimpered like an animal when he came deep inside you. He nuzzled your neck and his mouth opened. He wanted to bite you…but he restrained himself and only kissed your skin instead.

You came alongside him and you thought you might pass out. He was breathing heavily now, trying to catch his breath. He was still buried deep inside you, and you could feel his heart pounding. It was a strange feeling, hearing his heart beating—and then you realised it was yours you were hearing.

He then let out a low laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he had done. It was like he had just discovered fire, and now he didn’t know if he should use it, or if he should put it out.

“Mo chuisle…” He called you, and it was like a confession. But you knew better. You hesitated before flattening his hair to the side to look into his eyes. He swallowed heavily, his expression filled with confusion. You had broken the spell, and now he was slowly coming back to himself. It was like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. But you could see the hint of darkness still lurking behind his expression, like a shadow just lurking around the edges of his mind.

You smiled and felt tears in your eyes. “You were meant to be beautiful…Remmick.”

He looked at you, surprised at the tears in your eyes. His expression softened, and he took your face in his hand.

“Are ye cryin’ fer me, darlin’ ?” He asked, and there was a hint of shock in his voice…as if he never thought someone would cry over him before. Your heart squeezed in your chest.

“You look so young…You love music…You love to be loved. But you were so lonely…You could have been so wonderful. But then…All that changed…because you wished to have a family again.” You sighed and pressed your forehead against his. “…I am sure your heart used to be so full.”

He was taken aback by your words, and he looked at you with surprise—almost fear. It was like you had looked deep into his heart and seen things that he had hoped no one would ever know. He was speechless, completely caught off guard…he didn’t know what to say…He swallowed heavily, his face twisted by an emotion you couldn’t name. He didn't know what to make of you…you had seen so much…you understood so much. It was unsettling and comforting all at once…

He took a deep, shaky breath, and he managed to croak out a word.

“…Darlin’…”

You stroked his cheek.

“…To the ones who made you decide to change, I wish an eternity in hell for taking a bright light away from this world. I have never met a man like you. And yet, your way of seeing your hive as a family, caring for your children as you do, singing and dancing…I know you used to be so beautiful. And it hurts me to know that nobody had the courage to see you as such and to tell you.”

His eyes locked onto yours. He let out a low breath, and the words came out of him like a whisper.

“…But I am still beautiful…right, me chuisle ?”

You hesitated. He was watching you closely, waiting for your answer. His face was still so close to yours, and he was still holding onto you. He seemed almost desperate…like he needed you to say he was beautiful. There was a moment of silence, and he finally spoke again.

“…Darlin’…Please. Call me beautiful.”

Your eyes watered. “I wish I could…Parts of you are still beautiful but…”

His face fell, and his expression darkened. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the hurt from centuries of loneliness, of rejection, of being seen as a monster. He was silent, trying to hide his emotions. He looked away, and the moment was gone. But still…he was clinging on to you, like a drowning man holds on to driftwood.

You couldn’t help but hold him too.

“…It would be so easy to hate you. So easy. But at the same time, it would feel so wrong. For I know it is not entirely your fault that you are the way you are.”

He let you hold him, his face pressed into your neck. He was still trembling, his breathing ragged. He was in a state of shock. He had been shattered, stripped down to his foundation…and now he was a mess. He inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of you…he took comfort in your gentle touch. You looked at him, and you saw just how broken he was. It was like you held this wild creature in your arms, and suddenly he was just…broken. He was a wreck…he needed comfort, but he had been so alone for so long, that he couldn't even let himself ask for it.

His words came out as a shaky whisper, and he was holding you for dear life.

“Ye should not say such things to me…I should turn ye fer sayin’ them.”

You stared at him, and you saw the anguish in his eyes. He looked like he was at war with himself, the monster and the man fighting for control. And suddenly, you realized something. He was begging for an excuse to let go. He was holding on as long as he could, but you could see the battle he was fighting. You saw the man who had lived for over half a millennia…the man who had seen so much, and lived through things that should have killed him.

You saw a glimpse of the tortured soul behind the monster. You could see the torment he was going through, the internal struggle he was trying to contain. His body was so tense, every muscle wound up tight, his eyes staring at you with a desperation you had never seen before. He wanted a way out. All he had to do…was give in to his baser impulses. And just…bite you. You were just here. He knew you had no way to resist. You could see the pain behind his eyes, the torment of the conflict raging inside of him. He was trying so hard to hold himself back…he was trying to fight the urge, but it was getting harder and harder. He let out a low moan, sounding tortured. Every muscle in his body was tense, his body shaking with the effort of holding back. He wanted to bite you. He needed to feed. You were right there…he could do it.

Your heart sped up, and you could feel the tension in the air. He was so close, and you knew if he lost control, there would be no stopping him. He let out a ragged breath, and his eyes had that feral look in them.

He looked at you…and you saw the look in his eyes was predatory. “…Tell me one reason…why I shouldn’t turn ye…”

You smiled sadly at him. “If I was a part of your hive…my soul would go. And I would be just like any other of your children…hollow. My blood would be gone, and so would be my humanity.”

He let out a breath, and you could see the moment he realized you were right. He knew what it meant to turn you. He knew it would consume you—body, mind, and soul. He was left with the reality of the situation….what he wanted, and what he could not have. He suddenly snarled and stood back up.

“I need to feed. Stay here. Do not leave this room !”

He turned away, got his clothes back on and you could see the anger suddenly consume him. He was furious. At himself, at you, at the whole situation. It was like a switch had flipped. He no longer looked human.

He made his way to the door, and he paused before passing through. It seemed like he was about to tell you something, but reconsidered. The door slammed behind him, and you were left with your thoughts. You laid down on the bed and started fidgeting.

Was that your life now ?

———————————————————————

You were left in that dark room…alone with your thoughts. You tried laying down on the bed, but you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position. Your mind was racing, your feelings all jumbled up. You felt completely overwhelmed. You hadn’t even known him for more than a few weeks, and yet your life had completely changed. You tried to take a deep breath and relax, but you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about what had just happened…and what it all could mean.

You suddenly heard screams…You covered your ears and tried not to cry.

You sat there in the dark, trying to ignore the horrible sounds outside. You wanted to tell yourself it was just your imagination…but you couldn’t stop hearing the desperate wails, and it was making you nauseous. You tried to drown out the sound, but they seemed to be everywhere. You pulled the pillows over your head, trying to block out the terrible sounds. You tried to remind yourself that you were safe here, in the room where he had left you. But you could still hear the screams…you could imagine what he was doing to whoever he was feeding on…Once he was fed, you heard the door opening behind you. He stood there. You didn’t turn around. You knew what you would see…

He was quiet, and you could feel his eyes on your back. There was silence…and you knew that he was watching you. You could vaguely smell the metallic scent of fresh blood…but you were afraid to turn around. You didn’t want to see what had happened, what he had done.

He spoke up, and his voice seemed quieter…almost tender.

“Darlin’…turn around.”

You didn’t and replied dismissively. “I am…tired. I think I will go to sleep now.”

He let out a low chuckle and walked closer, the sound of his footsteps getting louder.

“That right ?” he said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. “Don’t ye have any other words fer me, darlin’..? C’mon. The night’s still young. And I just got a burst of energy that I wanna spend ALL on ye."

You could feel him sitting down on the bed, and the weight of the mattress shifted underneath him. He laid down next to you, and the smell of blood got stronger. His hands were on your waist, and he curled himself up against your back. He was so close…You restrained the nausea that suddenly took over you and the need to throw up. He was holding you from behind, and he had now wrapped his arms around you.

“Mmmm…y’smell so sweet…” he murmured appreciatively. “…like honeysuckle and sunshine…”

You could feel his body pressed up against you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. His hand found your hair, and he curled his fingers in it. His other hand was trailing up your side, and his touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“How about a second round, mo chuisle ? I am suddenly feelin’…extra affectionate.”

When you didn’t answer, he took offense and frowned.

“Don’t be silent now, me darlin’. Speak t’me…tell me what ye thinkin’ about at least…” Your breath caught in your throat, and you suddenly felt the urge to turn around. His hand was still in your hair, gently tugging at your locks/strands/curls. He was stroking your face with the other…and you could feel something hard and…substantial against your hip. “…Or maybe I should tell ya what I am thinkin’ about ?”

He was getting more and more handsy. His fingers were trailing over your body, tracing over your curves. He was holding you tight, his face buried into your neck. He was starting to kiss you, leaving a trail of hot kisses on your skin. One of his hands was tenderly fondling your breast. His hand found your jaw, and he gently twisted it to the right, so your head was facing him. He moved in and kissed you. But this time, his mouth was open, and his tongue was pushing past your lips. You were taken aback and the taste of blood made you physically recoil and gag. He seemed amused by this reaction, his hand on your chin preventing you from turning your face away. He broke away from the kiss, but he was still holding you there.

“What ? Ain’t me kisses to yer likin’ anymore, darlin’…? They seemed to suit ye just fine earlier.”

You could taste the coppery flavor of blood in your mouth. “Remmick. Remmick please…I do not like the taste.”

His expression darkened as you said that, and he seemed to get annoyed. “Yer tellin’ me no…?”

He looked down at you, his eyes blazing. “Ain’t I got the right t’kiss ye how I want ?”

You winced. “The taste…Please. Just wash your face.”

He looked down at you, his expression hardening. He was clearly annoyed, and he took a moment to breathe deeply. He sat up and got off of you. He seemed angry, and he stood there for a moment, his body tense.

He was quiet for a moment, and then he just left the room. You heard the faucet in the bathroom turn on. You sighed in relief. You heard the water running in the bathroom, and you could finally relax. You sat on the bed, trying to collect your thoughts. Your mind was still reeling from what had happened. You spat in a bassin nearby…He then came back from the bathroom, his face looking clean enough.

“How do I look now, me darlin’ ?” He asked with a smile.

You tried to keep your expression neutral. You still had the bitter aftertaste of blood in your mouth, and it was making you feel sick.

“…Fine. You look fine.”

His grin widened and he took a few dancing steps forward—a clumsy attempt to make you laugh. He was trying to be light-hearted, and it somehow worked a little. You couldn’t help but let out a smile…He suddenly stopped, noticing that you smiled at him. But then he smiled again and grabbed his fiddle to start a song.

“In the emerald fields, where our love's tale begins, Where the green rolling hills lead all hearts to mend, I found my home in my true love’s embrace, In the land of Ireland, beyond time and space.

Oh, Irish love a flame that forever glows, With a passion to vanquish all gallant foes, In the warmth of your touch, my soul is reborn, Our love, like Ireland, forever adorned.

Underneath the moonlit sky the banshee may wail, But we pay no mind as we dance through the gale Whispers of love carried on the Irish breeze, Our spirits more wild than tempestuous seas…”

You couldn't help but smile at his words…his singing was rough and a little off key, but it was charming in its own way. You could hear the passion in his voice, and you realized that this was something he loved.

He took your breath away, the way he sang to you. The song was a mixture of sweet and wild…it was like hearing the voice of the Irish landscape singing through him. It was beautiful, and it was strange…like a song that touches your very heart.

He continued as he danced around the room and smiled.

“…Through the fields of Athenry, we'll wander hand in hand, Where British army soldiers no more will walk this land Our love it will endure, through battles fierce and long My life is yours forever more, through conflict I’ll be strong

Oh, Irish love a flame that forever glows, With a passion to vanquish all gallant foes, In the warmth of your touch, my soul is reborn, Our love, like Ireland, forever adorned.

But now I must bid thee a lover’s goodbye To battle I go for to free Erin’s Isle Our hearts, my love, always aligned In this Irish love song, forever enshrined.”

He was singing with passion and dancing in tandem. He was in his element, and it was clear that he loved being able to perform for you. He was a completely different person when he was dancing and singing…it was like he was completely lost in the moment. Every movement seemed to be filled with joy. He was completely in the moment, fully alive, like his very soul was being filled with happiness.

Seeing him like this…it was beautiful. There was a light in his eyes that was breathtaking. You felt your heart open up at that moment, as you watched him give into the music and let himself be completely happy. It was so unlike the dark, dangerous man you had seen just moments before. It was like two different people…but the same.

Tears fell from your eyes as he sang, not because you were sad, but because you were moved by the beauty of his words. You could feel the deepness and the pain of the lyrics, and you realized that this song was a part of him.

He finished singing, and he looked at you with a look of deep affection. He looked like he couldn’t believe that you were there, listening to him. He walked over to you and took your face in his hand.

“Look at ye, lassie. Cryin’ over a lil’ song meant to cheer ye up ! Silly filly…”

You tried to laugh and wipe the tears from your eyes. It was true. You were crying over his song. It was just a song…but it seemed like so much more than that. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. He kissed the top of your head, and he rested his chin there.

“…Me darlin’ lassie…did I get to ye ? Forgive me. ‘Twas just a song.” There was affection in his voice…a tenderness to his touch…it was so different from the way he had acted before. “…Yer tears ain’t what I was lookin’ for, darlin’. I ain’t here to make ye sad. What should I do, then…to get ye smilin’ at me again, hmm ?”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It was such a silly question…You looked up at him and smiled.

“…Just sing me another song, okay ?”

There was a light in his eyes at the sound of your laughter. He was relieved. You could feel his body relaxing as he held you, as if he had been wanting to hear your laugh the entire time. He gave you a sly grin, and he ran his hand over your hair.

“Another song, eh ? Ye liked that one so much that ya want another ?” He pretended to think about it before grinning. “A’right ! But this time, I want ye to sing long ! Lemme hear yer pretty voice…”

You gave a bashful laugh, wiping the lingering tears from your cheeks. “Sing along ?” you echoed, your voice still a little shaky from the wave of emotions. “I don’t even know the words…”

He scoffed playfully, sitting upright with a dramatic gasp. “Then I s’pose I’ll have to teach ye, won’t I ?” He gave the fiddle a little tune, plucking a few strings and humming thoughtfully as he worked out a melody.

“You’ll catch on quick,” he promised with a wink. “It’s just a bit o’ nonsense…but I promise it’ll stick.”

And then, with a little flourish and a grin like a devil on a mission, he launched into the next tune—faster this time, jauntier. A playful rhythm that felt like springtime in a pub full of laughter and spilled ale.

“Oh, I met a bonnie lass down by the shore, She said, ‘Sing for me once and I’ll ask for no more !’ So I sang her a song, and I danced her a reel, And now she’s stolen my heart like a thief in the field !”

He pointed to you on the last line, waggling his brows dramatically, and you laughed out loud before you could stop yourself.

“Ohhh the lass with the eyes like the sea after storm, Her temper is fierce, but her heart’s kind and warm ! If she’d let me, I’d kiss her and call her me bride, But she’s likely to punch me and run off to hide !”

You burst into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth, and he looked delighted beyond words. His eyes sparkled as he leaned in close, coaxing you with his grin.

“C’mon, lass. Join me on the chorus. It’s easy !”

He slowed just enough for you to follow.

“So hey-ho, my wild Irish rose, With cheeks like fire and fists like blows, I’ll love her ‘til my dyin’ day, If she don’t chase me away !”

You sang the last line with him—nervously, out of tune, but with laughter catching in your throat. He beamed like a fool, proud as ever.

“See ? That’s it !” He winked again, this time more gently, brushing your hair from your face as the final note died off.

You looked up at him, cheeks warm from singing, from laughing, from feeling again. And for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, close and quiet. Something delicate hung in the air between you—soft as lace and just as easily torn.

He tilted his head, eyes roaming your face like he was memorizing you. “Y’know,” he murmured, voice low now, “I think I like this version of ye best. All lit up and laughin’.”

Your breath caught slightly at the honesty in his tone. You reached for his hand—tentative, unsure—but he met you halfway and laced his fingers through yours. He then pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, his free hand still holding the fiddle between you. And outside, the world was quiet. Just the faint hum of the night and the echo of his song still lingering in the corners of the room.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful this was—this moment. He slowly put his hand on your waist. He was looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time. He whispered words in Gaelic, but his voice was soft and it was like he was just speaking to himself. You couldn’t understand what he was saying. The language was unfamiliar to you, but the way he said it…it was as if he was speaking a prayer.

He was looking at you with a different look in his eyes. He kept his hand on your waist, and he gently pulled you closer, putting his other hand on your chin and tilting your face up to his.

He leaned in and gently captured your mouth in his, and the kiss was so tender.

You closed your eyes. The kiss was soft, like he was scared you might break if he pressed too hard. It was a completely different kiss from the ones he had given you before. It was careful and thoughtful, like touching something precious and delicate. He was gently cradling your face in his hand, and tracing your features with his fingertips.

“Yer mine, right lassie ?”

You looked up at him, completely stunned by the pleading tone in his voice. His dark eyes were boring into you, and he was waiting for you to respond.

But then he pressed gently on your waist with his hand—insisting. “Right ?”

Your eyes fluttered and you suddenly had a moment of clarity. What was happening to you ? You had been kidnapped just nights before, and now…you were in the arms of the monster who had stolen your life away. And yet, you couldn’t seem to find the will to deny him.

You swallowed heavily and looked straight into his eyes as you finally replied. “Yes, I am.”

He let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes, like he was thanking the universe for its gift. His hand was still on your chin, and he held you there for a moment, like he was savoring the moment. He then smiled and kissed your jaw.

“…Good. ‘Cause am yers too now, a ghrá.”

[ac1dmeow]

can you write a meet cute with au!powder??

cw: fluff, non-established relationship, wlw content, men dni

the sun was shining, the air was warm, and you couldn’t have felt more content while walking down the bustling street of chatting townies. with your box of new supplies in your arms that you’ve been so excited to acquire, your day couldn’t be bothered even if someone tried.

POOM!

suddenly you’re on your butt on the cement. books and gadgets lay around you haphazardly, a few cogs rolling in random directions. then you’re hearing a raspy feminine voice panic above you,

“oh! i am so sorry! please, let me help you!”

a girl seemingly you’re age bends down to your level, and you’re met with a rather pretty view. all lanky limbs and blue hair tied up into two buns on her head, and choppy bangs lining her forehead that are oddly endearing.

you’re gaping for a moment before you realize, and shake your head. “nah, it’s nothing.” you bite your lip nervously while you help the stranger gather your stuff back into your flimsy cardboard box.

before you can even grab it yourself, the girl is hoisting the box into her arms as she stands. you immediately follow after, not sure what to say.

“you got an interesting lot, here. do you attend the academy?” she asks you curiously. then she seems to remember that she’s still holding your stuff and hands it back over to you. your arms suddenly feel like they’re made of jello.

“uh-huh.” you say.

“well that’s a fun coincidence. so do i!” the blue haired girl chirps. “the name’s powder.”

she’s holding out her hand for you to shake. and you just stare at it for a few seconds.

“oh no way!” you finally manage to respond. you almost fumble your box when you reach out to grab her hand. it feels warm and inviting—it makes you wonder how it would feel to have her arms around you. gosh, chill out.

“cute name. i’m y/n.” you nearly surprise yourself with the sly flirt. and it could be wishful thinking but you swear you see powder’s cheeks darken, and it makes you automatically smile even wider.

“uhh haha, thanks!” she chuckles. a beat of silence passes where you watch her fix a strand of blue hair out of place. and that’s when you notice the streak of pink. how much more intriguing can this girl get?!

“where were you off to?”

powder’s question makes your heart leap. you swear your whole body lights up and you have to stop yourself from bouncing on your toes excitedly.

“to my dorm actually. i have a project i have to set up…” you realize it sounds like you’re turning down a possible invitation to hangout with powder. but then you realize she hadn’t actually asked for anything of the sort and she could actually just be curious about what the hell you were doing with a box of random scraps and books.

powder’s mouth opens to speak when suddenly a gruff voice from beside you makes both of your heads whip around.

“OI! get out of the middle of the road, wouldja!? folks got places to be ya know.”

both of you step to the side away from a mean looking old man like he’s the plague, unkept and frail leaning on a cane as he mumbles profanities and insults under her breath as he wobbles past.

“would you wanna exchange dorm numbers? maybe one of us can stop by and we can hangout sometime.” powder suggests calmly as if that didn’t happen.

you whip your head back around to face her. it takes you a moment to fully grasp what she said.

oh. my. god. a pretty girl just asked to hangout. she’s actually interested in you romantically. is this really happening!? oh-em-gee, oh-em-gee, oh-em-gee—

“yeah for sure! i’m 606 on the sixth floor!” your words are rushed and adrenaline-filled and you hope to whatever is out there that this girl can’t tell how ecstatic you feel right now. you hug the box tighter to your chest.

“oh hey, i’m just on the other end of the hall!” powder exclaims. “i’m in 624. gee, no wonder i haven’t seen you around yet. although, i’m also kinda surprised.” she snorts.

your head tilts. “so am i…”

another beat passes.

powder smirks and stands up straight. “i’ll let you go now. don’t wanna hold you up for too long—gotta get a head start on that project, amirite!?”

she begins to walk the opposite way you were heading, and your gaze follows her as she too seems to keep looking at you.

“you better show me that project once it’s finished! i have plans of seeing it.”

you giggle. your box nearly falls out of your arms again when a random bumps into you but you can barely pay any mind.

“i’ll make sure of it!” you shout. and then both of you are lost amongst the crowd once more.

-

a/n: sooo.. happy valentine’s day ? 😀

[jedipoodoo]

Home Sweet Home (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: No warnings, fluff, established Hunter x Reader, Tech is a little shiz, Hunter is a homemaker. Literally.

Tech watched his brother with fascination. Hunter sat atop the wooden frame he'd put together all on his own within the last few hours, nailing the crossbeams together. His shirt was tied around his waist, the sweat dripping down his upper torso with his hair tied back. It wasn't an unusual sight, Hunter had been helping rebuild many of the houses on Pabu since their arrival and the subsequent tsunami, but this one was special.

Pabu didn't have much readily available wood, so it was only used to build a rough outline of a house, providing a support for the clay mixture that kept the homes of Pabu nice and cool beneath the beating sun.

"I believe it is the bowerbird of Naboo that creates elaborate and sometimes whimsical structures in order to find potential mates." he said nonchalantly.

Hunter wiped the sweat from his brow and took the nails from between his teeth, "Are you going to help me or are you just gonna watch all day?"

Tech took another sip of the fruit juice Phee gave him, "I am perfectly content to sit back and watch you perform such an elaborate courting ritual."

Hunter frowned, "You make it sound like I'm doing something wrong here," He glanced around at the framework. It was almost done, he just needed to finish the roof, and then he could start mixing the clay. He'd seen Shep and the others making it, but he hadn't quite put it to practice yet himself.

"Oh no, you're doing quite wonderfully." Tech said.

"That sounded sarcastic! " Hunter accused. Tech merely shrugged.

"Hunter?"

Hunter's heart soared when he heard your voice. He spotted you walking up the cobblestone path towards him, and leaped down from the roof, running towards you.

"Hello, Cyare!" he ran towards you, lifting you up into his arms and spinning around.

"Hello!" You laughed breathlessly. "Phee said you wanted to show me something you're working on?"

"Yes, come on!" Hunter took your hand and pulled you over to the house. You carefully stepped over the threshold into the framework.

"I needed to know what you think," Hunter gently took your shoulders, moving you to face one wall, "So, the sun comes up in the east, over on this side. And I'm trying to figure out if I should put the bedrooms here, or the common room."

"Hmmm, well, the light is nice to wake up with, but if the common room is where they'll spend the most time, and the natural light will be nice and inviting."

"Uh huh."

You bit your lip, "I dunno, I like the idea of the sitting room and kitchen having all that natural light, but then the bedroom will be all dim," You waved toward the other side of the house, which was up against a house that had been finished the other day. This house was at the edge of a hill, so there wouldn't be anything to block the view. You shook your head and looked up at him. "Have you asked the people who will be living here? What did they think?"

"I did." he said.

You waited for a beat. "And? What do they want?"

Hunter looked in your eyes, "What do you want?"

You blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah," Hunter nodded, "Us."

You took a deep breath and stumbled back a few steps, "Oh wow," You pressed your hands against your cheeks as they flushed. You spun around, taking in the framework. It wasn't anything egregioisly big, but it was far bigger than the Marauder was. It was far from finished, but there would be bedrooms, actual bedrooms, and a real kitchen, and space to sit.

"Cyare? You alright?" Hunter asked, holding out his hands to you.

"I'm good, I am so good," You gasped, throwing your arms around him.

"You're making this for us?"

"For you and me," He said quickly, "And Omega, if she wants it."

"What about the others?"

"Wrecker's working on his own right now. And as for Tech, I think he's got his own plans."

You stood up straighter, wiping an errant tear from your eye. You didn't know what had come over you. There was something so wonderful about the idea of having a home, someplace to call your own. And the idea of sharing such a home with Hunter was almost more than you could imagine.

"So, bedrooms or sitting room?"

"Sitting room. Absolutely." You giggled, and Hunter smiled at you. He cradled your cheeks in his hands and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. His warmth enveloped you, smelling like the sun-baked mulch of a childhood playground on a hot summer day, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you.

"There's one more thing I need your help with before I keep building," Hunter brought you over to the lintel of the front door. On the inside, he'd carved his own name.

"I need you to carve your name in here too," He said, placing his knife in your hand

"But I can't- whoo!"Hunter had his arms around your waist and boosted you up onto his shoulder before you could finish your protest of how you couldn't reach comfortably. You fumbled with the knife for a moment, trying not to drop it.

"How did you reach this?" you asked, examining the distance from Hunter's head to the crossbeam he'd carved.

"Used a ladder." He shrugged.

"Couldn't I just use one too?" You asked.

"Sure you could, but then I wouldn't get a chance to hold ya now, would I?" He grinned up at you, and you couldn't hide the flush in your face.

You leaned forward, bracing your arms against the wood frame, and gently traced the letters that Hunter had carved. You weren't as skilled with a knife as he was, but Hunter knew that. If he was insisting, he probably didn't care.

With sharp, rigid lines, you painstakingly carved out your name, adding a little heart at the end for good measure. When you told him you were done, Hunter lowered you back to solid ground, raising one hand to admire your carvings next to his.

"Beautiful," He murmured.

You smiled shyly, bumping your hip against his, "You're corny."

"Gotta make up for lost time. Not much opportunity to court you properly and all when we were on the run from job to job."

"Sergeant Hunter," You folded your arms, "Is that what building this whole house is for? Just to court me?" You placed a hand over your heart and fluttered your eyelashes at him.

It was Hunter's turn to blush, unable to meet your gaze, "Well, Tech was telling me about all the different species of birds that build a nest to attract potential mates-"

You laughed out loud and threw your arms around his waist, "Well, it's working."

"Good," He kissed your forehead again, "I don't know what I'd do if it didn't."

[bckwardsfrwards]

I’m absolutely starving for pathetic bottom Phosphorus content, may I request a little something where he gets dicked down good by the reader?

Oh anon I have never wanted to write something more. THANK YOU for this ask, if you're feeling brave enough to come off anon DM me!!! I don't bite I'd lovee to talk about him being pathetic <3

Anyways, Amab reader/male reader

They're a metahuman

Wordcount: 2.8k

Oneshot(?) Under the cut. And this is NSFW so MDNI

You had known the doctor for a pretty long time. You met him during his time as a businessman and you remained loyal afterwards. Even though you both wound up in Belle Reve the guards seemed adamant on keeping the two of you separated. It had been a long time since you'd seen him, to say the least.

So when the Doctor, your Doctor Phosphorus walks into your cell instead of the same guard you had grown so accustomed to you practically leap off of your cot. Rushing towards him unsure if this is real or not. Your hands shake slightly, not certain if you should or even can touch him. It's like looking at a ghost.

"You never were much for words huh?" He asks with a nervous chuckle.

"How... How is this possible?" You ask, stepping closer to him and letting your hands grasp his forearms desperately.

"A little good behavior gets you a long way in this joint." He says tilting his head down to glance at where your hands are gripping at his sleeves. You stare at him for a moment, not sure you could speak if you tried.

"You okay?" He asks, barely noticeable concern bleeding into his words.

Instead of answering verbally you pull him into a tight hug. Wrapping your arms around him and tucking your chin over his shoulder. Feeling his overwhelming warmth seep into you, he was more like a living reactor than a radiator. He returns the embrace sighing in what sounds like relief. You smile against his neck as the flames atop his head burn a little hotter.

"I missed you." You murmur before pulling back to look at him.

Before he can get a word in you notice the guards standing outside your cell. Watching the two of you, clearly impatient. Your brow furrows with the fear of having Phosphorous taken away from you when you just got him back .

Phosphorus clearly notices your expression and turns back to glance at the guards before looking back to face you.

"Relax big guy, I didn't even get to tell you why I'm here yet." He says as he cups your cheek gently, careful not to burn you. You listen carefully and attentively.

"Right, I'm getting you out of here. No not out of prison but uh, you're getting transferred to my team's holding compound." He says like you should understand what any of that means.

"Here just, come with me." He says as he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the cell.

He walks like he knows where he's going so you follow without question. Gripping his hand tightly and watching as the guards surround you on the sides and behind.

"It's kinda like old times huh? Except instead of goons they're heavily armed guards in a maximum security prison." He says wryly.

You let out a huff of laughter but don't let your guard down. Eyeing the guards until you arrive at your destination. A much nicer open space with ping pong tables, arcade machines, lounging furniture and games. There are other inmates relaxing, some you've seen others you don't recognize. The guards shut the heavy concrete doors and vanish behind it.

"Pretty nice right?" He asks, his skeletal grin unchanging but you can tell he's pleased with himself.

"Yeah, this is... Nice." You say simply. Still in a state of disbelief that he is here with you.

"That's not even the best part, c'mere." He says as he grabs your hand and pulls you down a hallway of not cells but rooms. He gets to the end of the Hall and pulls you inside one of the rooms, shutting the door behind you. It's nice, bare walled and quaint, more like a cheap motel room than a prison cell. You turn to face him, looking him up and down.

"How'd you do this?"

"Oh just saved the world from certain doom." He says, gesturing with his hands casually.

"I'm serious Alex."

"I'm being serious here! Me and some of the others here killed this fuckin princess overseas it was a whole ordeal. Look I know it sounds ridiculous but you're here right? And that's what matters." He speaks with emotion walking closer to you with every word till you're face to face. He holds your wrists gently and caresses your pulse points with his thumbs. Something he used to do when he was stressed and needed the reassurance of your pulse. To know you were still here and alive.

"I know, I'm sorry, you're right. It's just a little surreal." You speak softly taking one of his hands in yours and bringing it up to your lips. Pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. Phosphorus sighs deeply, relaxed just by your soft touch. "I've missed you." You whisper.

"I missed you too Loverboy." He murmurs back, bringing one of his hands to your shoulder the other holding the back of your neck. Everywhere he touches is hot but you don't mind, you crave it.

You let one hand rest on his hip the other cupping his cheek softly. You both stand there for a moment basking in the comfort of one another. You hadn't known a friendly touch since before you'd both been arrested. You assumed the same went for the Doctor if the little shiver that ran through him just from your hand on his cheek was anything to go by.

You let your thumb caress his hip, gently massaging the tender flesh. You were glad that despite his skeletal appearance he seemed to be in good health, with a layer of softness on him he hadn't had before. His breath hitches a little and you can tell he's trying to hold back from making any sounds. Embarrassed to be so affected by such a simple touch.

You caress his face softly, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb. "I wanna hear you." You murmur against his neck, pressing faint kisses along his irradiated flesh. His body emits a low hum of bubbling, and each kiss you leave sizzles out against him.

He let's out a low strangled groan when you nip at his collar bone. The flame atop his head burning brighter with every touch.

"Jesus Christ." He whispers as you pull away from his neck to look at him, your eyes heavy lidded.

"Not quite." You say with a mischievous grin before you lean in and catch him in a kiss. It starts sweetly but as you move the hand on his hip to push his shirt up his abdomen his breath hitches. You take it as the opportunity it is and deepen the kiss letting your tongues tangle as your lips move against each other. He groans against your mouth, holding your shoulder and neck with a bruising grip. Kissing Phosphorus is unlike anything else, his heat overwhelming but addictive.

You both pull back panting and grasping onto each other desperately. You take in his unchanging expression, the only hint of your effect on him, the dark green dusting his cheeks. You bring both your hands down to rest on his hips, guiding him backwards until he's sitting on the edge of the full sized bed. You stand between his legs for a moment, towering over him before you drop down to your knees.

"Fuck sweetheart, you don't have to do this." He mumbles out sincerely, reaching a hand down to tilt your chin upwards to look at him.

"I want to." You answer simply. Resting your cheek against one of his thighs and looking up at him lazily. One hand running up and down his inner thigh. "If you'll let me."

"You're gonna kill me." He says almost reverently, petting through your hair for a moment and scratching at your scalp. You bask in the feeling for a moment sighing softly.

"Not a bad way to go." You say with a lazy grin.

When he pulls his hand back you perk up running both your hands up and down his thighs for a moment before tugging at the fabric and raising an eyebrow in question. He nods in affirmation and you pull his boxers and pants down in one go tossing them to a pile in the middle of the room. You bring your attention back to the Doctor whose dick is hard and leaking against his stomach. You eye him hungrily, settling between his thighs and wrapping one hand around his length stroking him steadily.

His reaction is obvious as he tilts his head back and lets out a low groan. You remembered just how he likes it, paying special attention to the underside of his cock and turning your wrist just right. You take your hand off of him and he whines at the lack of contact. Both your hands resting on his thighs running up and down slowly as you lean in and take his cockhead into your mouth.

He lets out a strangled moan clearly trying to hold back on the noise. You suck hard, and circle your tongue around the head. The taste of him almost chemical but still familiar and salty. He pants heavily above you as you take him down as far as you can stroking what you can't fit with one of your hands.

He's practically shaking, his thighs trembling and his abdomen twitching from the stimulation. When you swallow around him he just can't take it and bucks up forcing the rest of his length down your throat. You pull off coughing slightly before wiping your mouth off and catching your breath.

"Shit, I'm so sorry (y/n) I didn't mean to, you just feel so fuckin good," The doctor rambles out in one breath, his chest heaving up and down as he tries to calm himself down. His dick twitching against his stomach, a small puddle of fluorescent precum forming there. You look up at him bleary eyed but still smiling.

"You can make it up to me." You murmur, your voice low and raspy from the cocksucking. You dive right back in, lapping up the pre from his stomach and licking your lips afterwards. You place both hands over the doctor's hips holding them down with all your weight. You lick from the root of his cock to the tip, teasing the head with barely there kitten licks. Without any warning you take him most of the way down your throat in one go. Tears perk up in the corners of your eyes but you blink them away, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks with an undeterrable passion.

The Doctor all but freezes, his body going stiff before shivering almost uncontrollably from the intense pleasure. “Oh fuck, (Y/n) just like that… Shit!” He babbles on between heavy breaths and cut off moans.

He reaches down to grasp at anything, roughly gripping your hair, earning him a low groan that sends intense vibrations throughout his entire body. He tries guiding you off for a moment to compose himself before he finishes embarrassingly quickly. You don't let up, taking him down to the root, your throat spasming as you swallow around him.

“(Y/n), Sweetheart I'm gonna fuckin cum if you don't let up.” Alex manages to get out through strained panting, holding himself off from release as long as he can.

You pull off for a moment and he sighs in relief, his body practically shaking. But that relief is short-lived as you stroke him a couple times, only long enough to say, “Good,” before taking the head of his dick into your mouth again. Swirling your tongue around it with ridiculous precision while stroking the sensitive underside of his cock roughly.

“Fuck!” Phosphorus groans out as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. You take him down to the hilt again and can feel his dick twitching uncontrollably. You swallow around him roughly, groaning out from the satisfaction of getting him off. Alex lies on the bed feeling boneless as his body twitches through the aftershocks of his climax.

You finally pull off of him and catch your breath, panting heavily as you rest your face against his bare thigh. He sits back up eventually and starts petting through your hair, you let your eyes fall shut from the gentle touch.

"Thank you," He says softly.

"You're welcome," You mumble against his thigh. You grin lazily before getting up from your spot between his legs. "But we're not done yet." You say as you cage him in against the mattress, your own hard on straining against your pants.

"Fuck," He hisses out as you start to grind your clothed body against his overstimulated dick. "Okay, okay but take this shit off." He says pulling at the base of your shirt.

You comply pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor. You also take off your pants and underwear kicking them aside before boxing him in underneath you. You run one hand up and down his sides pulling at the hem of his shirt. "This goes too." You murmur pulling it up and over his head, throwing it on the floor.

Both naked now, you rut up against his thigh hissing at the feeling of your sensitive flesh against his burning hot body. You groan low and gravely leaning down and kissing at his neck gently, sensually.

"That feel good?" Alex asks with an airy laugh.

"Mmhm." You nod against his neck in affirmation, grinding against his thigh a little desperately.

"If you actually wanna fuck me the lubes in the top drawer." He says a little breathless as you bite and suck at his pulse point.

"You want it that bad huh?" You ask with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin.

"Don't act like you're not just as desperate as I am. Who's humping my leg right now?" He asks, jokingly irritated.

"Fair enough" You say, your cheeks flushed and hot.

He reaches into the top drawer and grabs some cheap non brand lube tossing it to you. You grab one of the pillows from the head of the bed and slide it under his hips. You pop open the lube drizzling some on your fingers before shutting it and tossing it to the side. You reach down carefully easing in one finger to the first knuckle.

He stiffens slightly and you try to soothe him by running your unoccupied hand up and down his sides. "S'okay I've got you." You murmur softly.

He relaxes slightly and before you know it he's taken the first finger and the second. You scissor your fingers a bit stretching him out some before curling them in search of something. You know you've found it when his whole body burns a little brighter and his cock starts twitching with interest, already half hard again.

"Fuck's sake, I'm ready." He complains, writhing in your grasp.

You lean down pressing kisses to his navel. "I don't wanna hurt you." You murmur softly.

He sighs, relaxing into your touch and accepting he'll have to be patient.

You slide in your third finger stretching him out until you're satisfied. You grab the lube again and squirt out a generous amount onto your hand. Finally stroking yourself, coating your dick with a healthy amount of lube before lining yourself up with him.

"You ready?" You ask softly, looking down at him. He rolls onto his stomach, resting his head against a pillow. It's always been an easier position and one of his favorites.

"Yeah, c'mon. Show me what I've been missing."

You don't wait after that, sliding yourself in steadily till he takes you down to the base. Your chest plastered against his back. You give him a moment to adjust, running your hands up and down his torso, feeling as he shivers from the stimulation. You start to move, forming a steady rhythm that has you both panting harshly.

"Harder," he groans out on a particularly sharp thrust.

You deliver, gripping his hips tightly and snapping yours against his. His back arches into it and he groans as you start nailing him right where he needs it.

"Fuck, just like that." He mumbles against his pillow.

The pace is relentless and you can feel yourself on the edge of orgasm. You lean in kissing his shoulder blade as you fuck into him roughly.

"M'close." You manage to groan out.

He moans in response as you pull his hips back to meet your thrusts. You wrap one arm under him to jerk him off in time with your thrusts. Moving your wrist in time with your hips, leaves you both groaning out in pleasure. You thumb over the head of his dick just right and that sends him toppling over the edge. Cumming all over your hand and onto the bed sheets below.

His body squeezes around your dick like a vice and with a few more harsh thrusts you finish deep inside his heat.

You collapse on your side pulling him against your chest. Your arms wrap around his body as you both bask in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

"Fuck I missed you," He whispers still catching his breath.

"Missed you too Alex." You murmur against the nape of his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there.

I just spent the last 5 hours writing this!! So if you liked it pls lmk!! My asks are always open <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stolen Goods 3

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. Lloyd Hansen, petite!pregnant reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You hit the back of the trunk with your fist, the tires put to the limit as the man drives without caution. He's honked several times and screeched to many jarring halts. You're trapped in more than just that compartment, bouncing around with the groceries, you're enshrined in a fervour of fear and despair. 

Why is this happening to you? Who is this man? What is he going to do to you? 

Well, what has he already done? 

“Please, sir, I won't tell anyone,” you beg through the back seat, "please. Just take me back--" 

"Do you like classic rock? Jazz?" He asks as the car swerves and he switches lanes. Holy shoot, is he on the highway?  

"What? Please, I promise--" 

"You're distracting me, sweet stuff, you're gonna get us both pancaked by a sixteen-wheeler," he clucks, "just calm down and enjoy the music." 

He flips on the stereo and the local pop station plays. He hums along for a moment, "Ariana, nice." He turns up the familiar top ten and you whimper. 

This is surreal. You really can't believe it. It all happened so quickly. The way he touched you, the way you just stood there and let it happen, then how he just locked you in here! Who does that? Who lets someone do that? Who doesn't raise her voice and tell him to stop? Or ignore him and get in the car and drive away? 

You. You're stupid. You should have been patient and waited for Jake. You should have done so much differently.  

Your tears spring as easily as ever. Your hormones have you always ready to overflow and now seems as suiting as that cat food commercial. You crumble completely, giving up on begging, and bawl. You're going to die, your baby too. 

Maybe that's your fault too. You were so scared when you saw the positive. When you realised the condom broke. There was that split second you wished it wasn't true. When you hoped that it might undo itself. Then you wanted it. You still do. Your baby. Things aren't perfect but you can make them better. 

You jostle with the paper bags, wallowing in your resignation and dread. Time throttles you until it feels like the whole world is on your chest. You hug your belly and apologise to your child. You're supposed to take care of them. 

When the car stops, the sudden dearth of sound slaps you in the face. You sniffle and listen with breath bated. The driver's side opens and dips. He stands and his footfalls stride undaunted towards the trunk. 

You brace yourself. You can't give up yet. The lock clicks and the lid lifts. You push it up before he can open it all the way but he has his hand on your neck before you can leap out. 

"Oh, baby cakes," he squeezes and you cough, "you don't think I'm that stupid, do you?" 

The dimming sky shrouds his figure and he puts cold metal to your cheek, "you don't wanna get yourself hurt. Or the kid, huh?" He presses the metal barrel firmly to your temple, "I don't wanna hurt you either but you gotta give a little." 

"S-sorry," you choke out and latch onto his thick wrist, teetering on your knees as the rest against the edge of the trunk, "I---I--" 

"I know, baby. You're scared. Change is terrifying but I heard you talking to the deadbeat," he pulls the gun away and holsters it. He eases you forward and helps you put your feet to the ground. He keeps a strong hold on you, "you can do better." He smirks, "hi, I'm better, but you can call me Lloyd." 

You gape at him. Is that a joke? 

“And you are...” he enunciates your name. “Sorry about your purse, I tossed it some ditch, but I got the important shit out of it.” 

“Huh?” You blink at him dumbly. 

“Phone’s wiped too. So, I’ll probably just break that down for parts--” 

“Wait, what? Why—please, why are you doing this?” 

“I’m not too sure myself, shortcake, but we’ll figure it out.”  

He slips his hand down to your wrist and pulls you away from the car. He shuts the trunk and the noise echoes off the high ceiling. You look up at the interior of the garage. Several cars are parked in the space. What kind of place is this? 

“Come on, you don’t wanna hang out in here,” he snorts and tugs you to follow him. 

All you can do is let him guide you. You keep your free hand on your stomach as your eyes burn. You can’t give up. You have to keep going for your baby. 

He takes you up a short set of steps and into a house just as colossal as the garage. He looks down at your feet as you stand on the mat. He tuts. Your slides were lost somewhere in your struggle. Your feet are cold and dirty. 

“Hm, well... what now?” He asks. 

“What now?” You squeak. “What do you--” 

“Look, honey buns, I’m not asking you,” he turns and keeps his hand around your wrist, walking you forward as if you’re on a leash. 

You’re confused. What does he mean? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing. What kind of man just does this spontaneously? 

“Erm, Lloyd,” you say softly, “it’s... not too late to take me back.” 

“Ah, but you’re wrong, sweet stuff. It’s way too late,” he snickers. “I scrubbed the traffic cams and the surveillance at the grocery store. It’s all gone. You’re gone.” He stops you in a bright foyer and faces you, “I don’t give my toys back.” 

[zzukowo]

the prince meets his princess <3 (26 September 2024)

Zuko x Reader

Prompt! Gaang goes to meet the water tribe princess who zuko finds himself at his knees for.

The journey to the Northern Water Tribe had been long and arduous, but the group finally neared the icy shores of the grand city. Zuko stood at the edge of Appa’s saddle, his eyes locked on the towering walls coming into view. His mind raced—part nerves, part anticipation. Aang and Katara had spoken about meeting the Water Tribe’s princess, Y/N, but Zuko wasn’t sure what to expect.

As they landed, they were greeted by a group of Water Tribe warriors, though it was clear they were awaiting someone more important.

“The princess will meet you shortly,” one of the warriors said, bowing slightly. “She’s been preparing for your arrival.”

Sokka nudged Katara with a grin. “Princess, huh? Bet she’s like Yue. All noble and proper.”

Katara smiled fondly at the memory of Yue but shook her head. “Not everyone’s like Yue, Sokka.”

Toph scoffed, her arms crossed as she sat comfortably on Appa. “Great, another fancy royal type. She better not be all high and mighty.”

Zuko remained quiet, his gaze focused on the palace. The Northern Water Tribe’s city shimmered in the ice and snow, a place of incredible beauty and power, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something—or rather, someone—was about to unsettle him.

And then she arrived.

Y/N stepped out from the palace gates with a group of waterbenders trailing behind her. She wore the elegant, traditional attire of the tribe, but there was something casual about the way she held herself—graceful yet relaxed, confident but not boastful. Her eyes swept across the group, lingering on each of them until they finally landed on Zuko.

“Welcome,” Y/N said, her voice carrying easily across the frozen courtyard. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Aang was the first to move, practically leaping forward in his excitement. “Thank you for welcoming us, Princess Y/N! Your city is amazing!”

Y/N smiled, her lips curving gently. “Please, just Y/N. No need for titles here.”

Sokka grinned at her, giving a mock salute. “Well, you’re already cooler than most princesses.”

Katara elbowed him hard in the ribs, but Y/N just laughed, her eyes twinkling. "I'm glad you think so. But don't let the title fool you—I can hold my own."

Zuko hadn’t said a word, too busy studying her. She was powerful; that much was obvious. But there was a warmth to her that reminded him of Katara, though her energy felt more like the calmness of water flowing steadily.

Y/N turned her attention toward him, and Zuko stiffened under her gaze. "And you must be Zuko," she said, a hint of curiosity in her tone. "The prince who turned against his father."

Zuko straightened, nodding slightly. “I am.”

Her smile didn’t falter. "You made the right choice. Fighting for peace instead of fear is the path worth taking."

For a moment, Zuko didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t used to receiving such acknowledgment without any bitterness attached. His silence didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

Toph grinned knowingly, sensing the vibrations in the ground from Zuko’s nervousness. “Oh yeah, he’s all tense. She’s totally got him wrapped around her little finger already.”

Sokka snickered. "Called it! Bet he’s already regretting wearing that broody look."

Zuko shot them a glare, but Y/N either didn’t hear or didn’t care, gesturing for the group to follow her. “Come, you must be tired from your journey. My people have prepared a feast for your arrival.”

As they walked through the grand halls of the palace, Zuko lagged behind, his mind swirling. He could feel the others’ eyes on him, especially Toph’s.

“I can feel how nervous you are, Sparky,” she said quietly as they walked. “She’s just a person, you know. No need to have your insides twisted up in knots.”

Zuko shot her a look, cheeks faintly reddening. “I’m not nervous.”

“Uh-huh.” Toph smirked. “Sure you’re not.”

When they reached the grand hall for dinner, Y/N took her place at the head of the table, her eyes occasionally flickering toward Zuko. He pretended not to notice, but everyone else certainly did.

“So, Princess Y/N,” Sokka began, leaning forward. “How do you spend your royal days? Training waterbenders? Organizing parties? Or, you know, defeating enemies like us.”

Y/N smiled, amused. "More like training waterbenders and making sure our warriors are prepared for anything. Parties aren’t exactly a priority these days."

Zuko remained quiet, watching her interact with the group. He could tell she was a capable leader, someone who was strong but kind, and it made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t expected. There was something about her, the way she handled herself, that made him feel... off balance.

"You’ve been quiet, Hothead," Toph whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. “What, the princess got your tongue?”

Zuko stiffened, glaring at her. “Shut up, Toph.”

Toph smirked. “Relax, Sparky. Your heart’s pounding like a stampede.”

Sokka, overhearing, grinned from across the table. “Hey, Zuko, how’s it going over there? Enjoying the royal company?”

Zuko glared at him, his face flushing slightly. “I said shut up, Sokka.”

Toph snickered. “Too late. She’s already got you all flustered.”

The next morning, the group gathered at the training grounds to practice their bending. Y/N stood in the center of the field, demonstrating her mastery over water. Her movements were fluid and precise, the water responding effortlessly to her will. Zuko couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by her control and grace.

“Are you just going to watch, or are you going to join me?” Y/N’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Zuko blinked, realizing she was looking directly at him.

“Uh, I—” Zuko hesitated, glancing at the others, who were grinning like idiots. “I’ll join.”

As he stepped forward, Toph elbowed Sokka. “He’s gonna embarrass himself, I can feel it.”

Sokka grinned. “Maybe he’ll manage to impress her. I doubt it, though.”

Y/N and Zuko faced off, her smile teasing yet focused. “Ready?”

Zuko nodded, trying to push aside the heat creeping up his neck. The spar began, water and fire clashing in a dazzling display of skill. Zuko fought to keep up with her fluid movements, but there was something disarming about the way Y/N moved—almost playful, like she was testing him more than challenging him.

From the sidelines, Toph grinned. “His heart’s pounding harder now. Looks like he’s a goner.”

Katara crossed her arms, smiling knowingly. “I think Y/N might be just what Zuko needs.”

As Zuko and Y/N sparred, it became clear that she was holding back. Her waterbending flowed like a river, never forceful but always controlled, while Zuko’s firebending was more aggressive—he couldn’t help it. The frustration building inside him made his flames larger, hotter, but none of it seemed to faze Y/N.

She deflected his flames with a single movement, sending the water back toward him in a spiraling wave. Zuko quickly dodged, skidding to the side, but as he turned back to counter, he found himself staring straight into Y/N’s teasing grin.

“What’s the matter, Prince Zuko?” she asked, her voice light, playful. “You seem distracted.”

Zuko clenched his fists, his brow furrowing. “I’m not distracted,” he muttered, trying to regain focus.

But it was no use. His mind kept replaying the soft, teasing lilt in her voice, the way her smile seemed to be aimed directly at him. And that only made him push harder, launching another stream of fire toward her. Y/N dodged with ease, stepping lightly across the icy ground as if she were dancing.

“Zuko, breathe,” Katara called from the sidelines, her arms crossed but her voice filled with concern. “You’re not going to win if you let her get under your skin.”

Toph chuckled, her grin widening as she shifted her feet, sensing the vibrations in the earth. “Oh, he’s definitely got more than fighting on his mind.”

Zuko shot a glare in Toph’s direction, but that second of distraction cost him. Y/N took the opportunity to send a jet of water straight toward him, knocking him off his feet. He landed with a thud, the breath knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ice.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Sokka burst out laughing. “Oh, man! She wiped the floor with you!”

Zuko groaned, pushing himself up, but before he could stand fully, a hand appeared in his vision. He looked up, seeing Y/N offering him a hand, her expression soft and amused.

“Good match,” she said with a slight smirk. “You put up a good fight.”

Zuko hesitated before taking her hand, feeling the warmth from her fingers despite the cold air around them. He rose to his feet, his eyes locking with hers, and for a brief moment, everything around them faded. There was something in her gaze, something playful but also… understanding. As if she saw something in him that no one else did.

But then the moment was broken by Toph’s snort. “Wow, Sparky, she knocked you down and now she’s got you all tongue-tied too?”

Zuko pulled his hand back quickly, his face flushing as he turned away. “I’m fine.”

Sokka came over, patting Zuko on the back with a grin. “Yeah, sure. Fine. Totally fine. Except for, you know, getting completely owned by a princess.”

“I didn’t get owned,” Zuko growled, shooting a glare at Sokka, who just laughed harder.

Y/N smiled, her eyes still lingering on Zuko for a moment longer before she turned back to the group. “You all must be hungry after watching the match. Come, let’s get something to eat.”

As they headed back to the palace, Toph fell into step beside Zuko, her smirk unmistakable. “You know, Sparky, for someone who claims not to be distracted, your heartbeat was going crazy the whole time. I could feel it all the way from the sidelines.”

Zuko groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you just… not, Toph?”

She grinned. “What? I’m just saying. She’s clearly into you too. You’re just too dense to notice.”

Zuko glared at her, but a part of him couldn’t help wondering if Toph was right. There was something about Y/N—something that pulled him in, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

As they approached the dining hall, Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Zuko’s again for a brief second. She gave him a small, knowing smile before turning back, and Zuko’s heart thudded in his chest.

Toph was right. He was definitely in trouble.

As they gathered in the grand dining hall, the group settled around the long, intricately carved table, the warmth of the firelight bouncing off the ice walls. Y/N took her place at the head, her calm demeanor only adding to the regal aura that surrounded her.

Zuko, sitting across from her, tried to focus on the food in front of him, but his eyes kept flickering back to Y/N. The way her fingers effortlessly twirled a strand of water from her cup, the smile that never seemed to fade, it was all too distracting. The others noticed—of course, they did—and it didn’t take long for the teasing to begin.

Sokka leaned forward, a grin already forming on his face. "You know," he started, glancing between Zuko and Y/N, "it’s kinda poetic, don’t you think? The Fire Prince and the Water Princess. It’s like something out of one of those old love stories."

Katara’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she chimed in. "Yeah, opposites attracting and all that. You two would balance each other perfectly."

Zuko’s face immediately flushed, his hands gripping his chopsticks a little tighter. "We’re not—" he started, but Sokka cut him off with a wave.

"Oh, come on, Zuko. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it." He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Fire and water. It’s practically written in the stars."

Toph snorted from beside him. "I can feel your heart pounding from here, Sparky. You’ve been all jittery since we landed, and it’s definitely not because of the cold."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her amused gaze flitting over to Zuko, who was desperately trying to keep his cool. She didn’t seem flustered at all by the teasing, instead taking it in stride.

"Well," Y/N said with a smirk, her voice light and teasing, "if we’re talking balance, I guess it would make sense. After all, fire needs water to keep it from getting out of control, right?"

The comment sent the group into a chorus of laughter, and Zuko could feel his face heat up even more. He glared at Sokka and Toph, though it did nothing to stop the teasing.

Aang, ever the peacekeeper, grinned as he nodded in agreement. "I think it makes sense! You both have this calm intensity about you. Like… you’re passionate in different ways, but it would complement each other."

"Exactly!" Sokka said, pointing his chopsticks at Zuko dramatically. "See? Even the Avatar agrees! The Fire Prince and the Water Princess, destined to—"

"That’s enough!" Zuko finally snapped, slamming his chopsticks down on the table, his face a deep shade of red. "We’re just… allies. That’s it."

But Y/N, ever calm and unbothered, leaned forward with a playful glint in her eyes. "Allies, huh?" She glanced at the group before meeting Zuko’s eyes again. "Well, I suppose we’ll see what happens, won’t we?"

Zuko nearly choked on his drink at the way she said it, the subtle teasing in her tone making his heart race even faster. He quickly looked away, his mind scrambling for something—anything—to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot.

Toph grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Zuko’s discomfort. "You’re making this too easy, Zuko. I didn’t even need to bend to feel how hard you’re blushing."

Sokka leaned closer, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, "I bet they’ll be exchanging love letters by the end of the week."

Zuko shot him a death glare. "Shut. Up."

But the teasing only continued, the group laughing and throwing playful jabs at the so-called "perfect match" of the Fire Prince and the Water Princess. Through it all, Y/N remained calm, an amused smile on her lips as she occasionally glanced at Zuko, clearly enjoying how flustered he was becoming.

And as the laughter died down and they returned to their meals, Zuko couldn’t help but steal one more glance at Y/N. She caught his eye, giving him a small, knowing smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Maybe, just maybe, there was something to the whole "Fire Prince and Water Princess" idea after all.

The air was crisp and cool as the group moved from the dining hall to the palace’s outer courtyard. The sun had just begun to set, casting shades of pink and orange across the sky, reflecting off the ice sculptures that lined the walkway. Y/N led the way, her steps graceful as she guided them to a peaceful overlook by the water.

Zuko trailed behind, still feeling the heat in his cheeks from the relentless teasing at dinner. Every time he tried to shake the embarrassment, Toph or Sokka would shoot him a look or make another comment under their breath, and it would start all over again.

Y/N, seemingly unbothered by the playful jabs, kept a small smile on her lips as they walked. Her posture was relaxed, her hands lightly trailing along the icy walls of the palace as if she had all the time in the world. Zuko couldn’t help but admire her ease. While the world was on the brink of war, and their futures felt uncertain, she moved through it all with a sense of calm that made everything around her seem less daunting.

It drove him mad—and fascinated him all at once.

As they reached the overlook, Y/N stopped, gazing out at the vast expanse of icy waters. The setting sun cast a golden glow on the waves, the calm surface reflecting the fire in the sky. She turned to face the group, her eyes bright with excitement.

“There’s something I want to show you,” she said softly, motioning for them to sit.

The group gathered around her, curiosity piqued. Aang, always eager to learn new bending techniques, practically bounced on his toes. Katara folded her arms, a smile tugging at her lips, while Sokka, now more relaxed after their earlier banter, sat with his chin propped in his hand.

Zuko, despite his best efforts to act indifferent, found himself leaning closer, his attention fully on Y/N.

With a graceful flick of her wrist, Y/N pulled water from the ocean, bringing it up into a sphere that hovered in the air. She stepped closer to the group, the water shifting and moving as if alive, responding to her every command. Zuko watched as the sphere shimmered, the light from the sunset refracting through it, creating a kaleidoscope of colors.

“I’ve been working on this for a while,” Y/N explained, her voice low and calm. “It’s a technique unique to our tribe, passed down through generations.”

She stepped back, giving the water a gentle push with her palm. It began to spiral, turning faster and faster until it formed a vortex, hovering just above their heads. The group looked up in awe as droplets of water began to fall, catching the light and sparkling like stars.

Even Toph, though unable to see, seemed to sense the beauty of it. “Whoa… that’s pretty cool, Princess.”

“Wait—” Sokka held up a hand. “Is this your way of showing off for Zuko? ‘Cause if it is, I gotta admit, it’s working.”

Y/N shot him a look, her expression soft but amused. “Sokka, not everything is about trying to impress someone.”

Zuko, once again the center of attention, immediately stiffened. “I wasn’t—”

But Sokka wasn’t finished. “I mean, come on, fire and water? It’s like destiny, right?” He leaned back with a smirk. “You two were literally made for each other.”

Y/N laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Is that so?”

Before Zuko could say anything, Aang chimed in, ever the optimist. “He’s kind of right. Fire and water balance each other, just like in nature. It’s all about harmony.”

Toph snorted, smirking in Zuko’s direction. “I dunno, Twinkletoes. I’m still sensing a lot of *tension* from Sparky over here.”

Katara, always the voice of reason, smiled gently at Y/N. “It’s amazing how you control the water so effortlessly. You and Zuko could probably teach each other a lot.”

Zuko, whose face was now burning brighter than the setting sun, couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” He stood abruptly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Can we just—” He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Can we focus on the mission, not on… this.”

The teasing grins around him didn’t fade, but they did settle down for the moment. Y/N, however, remained calm, her gaze never leaving him.

“Alright,” she said gently, waving her hand and allowing the water vortex to collapse back into the ocean. “The mission it is, then.”

The group fell silent for a moment, watching the last remnants of the vortex disappear beneath the waves. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the icy shore.

Zuko turned away, embarrassed by how easily the group had gotten under his skin. He was the Fire Prince, and yet, when it came to her, he couldn’t control his reactions. It frustrated him to no end.

But before he could spiral further into his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice soft and steady. “Zuko.”

He hesitated, then turned to face her. She stepped closer, her eyes shining with warmth, not a trace of teasing in her expression.

“I know they’re just messing with you,” she said quietly, so only he could hear. “But if it helps, I’ve always admired your strength. Your fire isn’t something to hide from.”

Zuko blinked, her words sinking in deeper than he expected. She smiled at him, soft and sincere, and for the first time in a long while, Zuko felt like he wasn’t fighting alone.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, stepping back to rejoin the group as they began discussing the next part of their journey. But Zuko couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—something subtle but undeniable.

And for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—the group’s teasing wasn’t all that far off.

[dippindaz]

Robin x girl reader who she crushes on who is super girly and super popular and super into Robin … even makes her friends go to Scoops Ahoy

Thank you for requesting! I love Robin’s character and Maya Hawke is sooooo gorgeous!

Entirely fluff and awkwardness :)

The fluorescent lights of Starcourt Mall always had a way of making the world feel like it was encased in bubblegum. Everything was vibrant, alive, a little too shiny—and yet, you couldn’t get enough. Scoops Ahoy sat like a beacon in the middle of the chaos, the nautical-themed ice cream shop that had become your favorite spot for reasons you hadn’t exactly shared with your friends.

“Seriously, why are we here again?” one of them whined, flipping her glossy hair over her shoulder as she scrolled through her compact mirror.

“Because I’m craving a triple scoop of mint chocolate chip,” you lied smoothly, tugging your friends along as you practically skipped toward the counter.

You didn’t even look at the menu. You didn’t have to. Your focus was already locked on the counter, where Robin Buckley was leaning against the register, fidgeting with the brim of her ridiculous sailor hat.

She was talking to her co-worker, Steve Harrington, but you noticed the subtle way her eyes kept flicking toward the door, as though she was waiting for something—or someone. The thought made your stomach flutter.

You smiled, tilting your head in what you hoped was a casual, disarming way. “Hey, Robin,” you called as you approached the counter, your voice a little too bright.

Her head shot up, and for a moment, there was that look—the one you’d been hoping for, the one that made her blue eyes widen just slightly before she composed herself. “Oh, uh, hey! Back again, huh?”

You shrugged, resting your elbows on the counter as your friends groaned in the background. “What can I say? You make a mean scoop.”

Steve snorted, clearly amused, but Robin shot him a glare that could’ve frozen the ice cream behind her. “Ignore him. What’ll it be today?”

Your friends placed their orders begrudgingly, but when it was your turn, you lingered, propping your chin on your hand as you watched Robin scoop ice cream with practiced ease.

“So, Robin,” you began, feeling bolder than usual. “How’s life in the high seas treating you?”

She blinked at you, clearly caught off guard, before breaking into a shy smile. “Oh, you know. Swabbing the deck, dodging mutinies. The usual.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart race.

Robin handed you your cone with a slight quirk of her lips, her fingers brushing yours in the exchange. It was fleeting—probably nothing, realistically—but you felt the warmth linger as though she’d branded it there.

“You’re getting pretty good at this whole sailor thing,” you teased, taking a small, deliberate lick of your ice cream. “Might want to be careful. They’ll promote you to captain soon.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she ducked her head to busy herself with organizing the counter, even though it was already spotless. “Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath. The perks of this gig top out at free ice cream.”

“And yet, you wear that hat so well.”

Steve let out an exaggerated cough that sounded suspiciously like he was trying to hint at something, but you ignored him, watching Robin instead.

Her smile grew, just enough to make her look like she might actually be enjoying this, even if she didn’t quite know how to respond. “So,” she said, fidgeting with the scoop in her hand. “Are you, uh… planning to stick around the mall today?”

Your heart leaped at the question. It wasn’t much—just small talk, really—but the hope in her voice wasn’t lost on you.

“Maybe,” you said, pretending to be nonchalant as you leaned against the counter. “Depends. Are you offering a guided tour of Scoops Ahoy? Or, better yet, free samples?”

This time, she laughed outright, a soft, warm sound that sent a thrill through you. “I think my boss would kill me if I started handing out freebies to every pretty girl who walked in.”

You froze. Robin froze.

Her face turned crimson as she realized what she’d said, and she immediately began stammering. “I mean—not that I think you’re—I mean, not that you’re not—but I didn’t mean—”

“Relax, Buckley.” Steve’s voice cut through her panic, lazy and amused as he leaned against the wall of the counter. “Pretty sure she’s into it.”

Robin glared daggers at him, but you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Well, I can’t exactly deny it,” you said, your voice light. “You do have good taste.”

Robin blinked at you, clearly caught between mortification and disbelief.

Steve muttered something under his breath about getting out of the splash zone before retreating to the back of the shop, leaving the two of you alone at the counter.

You leaned in just slightly, your voice softening. “For the record, I think you’re pretty cute too.”

Robin stared at you like she wasn’t sure if this was real. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah,” you said with a wink. “And I wouldn’t mind more guided tours—or, you know, just seeing you around.”

Her lips parted, but whatever response she might’ve had was cut off by a loud, impatient sigh from one of your friends.

“Are we done here?” they asked. “We’ve been standing in this ice cream shop forever.”

You shot them an apologetic look, then turned back to Robin, lowering your voice. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, you walked away, the sweet taste of mint chocolate chip on your tongue and the even sweeter thrill of Robin’s flustered expression burning in your memory.

—————————————————————————

The mall was buzzing with its usual weekend chaos, but you barely noticed as you strolled past shop windows, your friends chatting animatedly beside you. Your thoughts were elsewhere—back at Scoops Ahoy, replaying Robin’s flushed cheeks and the way her words had stumbled over each other like she could barely keep up with her own thoughts.

“She’s so into you,” one of your friends said, snapping you out of your daydream.

“What?” You blinked at her, hoping you hadn’t been caught staring off into space.

“Robin. The sailor girl,” she clarified, rolling her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you missed it. The way she was looking at you? That was, like, painfully obvious.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you shrugged like it was nothing. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She nudged you playfully. “You’ve got her wrapped around your finger. So what’s the plan? Are you finally going to make a move, or is this going to be another one of your endless crushes that we have to hear about forever?”

You bit your lip, pretending to consider her words even as excitement bubbled in your chest. “I don’t know,” you said, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe I’ll just keep stopping by for ice cream and see what happens.”

The truth was, the idea of making a move—of being bold enough to tell Robin how you felt—terrified you. She was so different from anyone you’d ever been interested in before. She wasn’t just a crush; she was Robin, with her quick wit, her awkward charm, and the way she seemed completely unfazed by what anyone thought of her.

You spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the mall with your friends, but when they finally decided to head home, you found yourself backtracking—alone this time—toward Scoops Ahoy.

Robin was still behind the counter when you walked in, her sailor hat now slightly askew as she restocked napkins. She glanced up at the sound of the door and froze when she saw you, her expression shifting from surprise to something softer, almost hesitant.

“Back again?” she asked, her voice a little quieter this time.

“Couldn’t stay away,” you said with a smile, stepping up to the counter. “Besides, I think you owe me a tour.”

Robin’s mouth opened, then closed, and you could practically see the wheels turning in her head. For a second, you thought she might panic again, but then she set down the stack of napkins and leaned on the counter, mirroring your stance.

“Okay,” she said, her voice steadying. “Where do you want to start?”

Your grin widened. “Surprise me.”

Robin straightened, grabbing a spoon from the counter before gesturing for you to follow her around to the back. You slipped past the counter, ignoring the curious glance Steve shot you from where he was mopping the floor.

“This,” Robin began, holding up the spoon dramatically, “is the official Scoops Ahoy scooping utensil. Not just anyone can wield one of these, you know. It takes skill.”

You laughed, playing along. “And you’re the best of the best, right?”

“Obviously.”

She led you through the small, cramped space behind the counter, pointing out various ice cream tubs and joking about the “rigorous training” required to learn their names. But even as she kept up her playful commentary, you could tell she was nervous—her movements a little too quick, her jokes coming out slightly rushed.

When she finally turned to face you again, her eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, the humor faded. “So… why are you really here?”

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t look away. “Because I like talking to you,” you said simply.

Robin stared at you, her expression unreadable, and for a second, you worried you’d said too much. But then her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile, and she ducked her head.

“I like talking to you too,” she admitted, so quietly you almost didn’t hear her.

Robin’s words hung in the air, soft and uncertain, and your heart felt like it might burst. You didn’t want to push her too far, but something about the way she looked at you—like she wasn’t used to anyone paying attention—made you want to be brave.

“Good,” you said, your voice steady despite the way your stomach was doing somersaults. “Because I was starting to think you didn’t notice me.”

Robin blinked, caught off guard. “Are you kidding?” she said, a nervous laugh escaping her. “You’re, like, impossible not to notice. I mean, you’re…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward you. “You.”

Your lips twitched into a smile. “Is that a compliment?”

She rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks a deep shade of red. “Uh, yeah. Definitely. A compliment. A hundred percent.”

You took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. “For the record, I notice you too. A lot.”

Robin’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she glanced down at the spoon still in her hand, twisting it nervously. “Why me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The question broke your heart a little. How could she not see it?

“Because you’re smart,” you said softly. “And funny. And way cooler than you give yourself credit for. And because…” You hesitated, taking a breath. “Because every time I see you, my day gets better.”

Robin looked at you like she didn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Then, after a beat of silence, she said, “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“That you can just say stuff like that and not completely fall apart.”

You laughed, and the sound seemed to put her at ease, her shoulders relaxing just a little.

“Robin,” you said gently, reaching out to take the spoon from her hand and set it on the counter. “I think you’re amazing. And I’d really like to take you out sometime. If you want.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her eyes darting between yours like she was searching for the catch. But then, slowly, she nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “I’d like that.”

Your smile widened, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed a quick, light kiss to her cheek. Robin froze, her face turning bright red, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let out a breathless laugh, her lips curving into a shy smile.

“Wow,” she said, brushing her fingers over the spot where you’d kissed her. “You’re, uh, really good at this.”

“Only because I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted with a grin.

Robin shook her head, still smiling as she glanced toward the front of the shop. “Steve is never going to let me live this down.”

“Who cares what Steve thinks?” you said, taking her hand in yours. “I think you’re worth it.”

She stared at your hand for a moment, then squeezed it gently, her smile soft and full of something you couldn’t quite put into words. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you teased. “Now, how about that date? I hear that new diner is cozy on Friday nights say at… 7pm?”

Robin laughed, her nerves melting away as she stepped closer. “Yeah,” she said, her voice warm. “I think I’d like that.”

“I’ll pick you up then…” you murmured, your eyes flicking to her lips then back up.

You swung your foot out to turn yourself around but before you could, Robin placed a hand on your shoulder and quickly pressed her lips against yours, though she pulled back almost as swiftly.

You hadn’t expected it and you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you giggled. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, I’ll uh— I’ll see you.” She murmured.

You walked out from behind the counter, then walked backwards so you could look at Robin as you walked to the door of Scoops Ahoy. Robin was watching you, a smile plastered on her face and a laugh that melted your heart as you stumbled over your feet.

As you left the shop warmth overtook your chest and a giddiness that made you want to jump up and squeal wracked your brain. You could just feel it in your gut, this was the silly start to something really really good.

[nahoney22]

Hi ! Congrats on reaching 4000 followers, I'm so proud of you and you totally deserve it ! ❤️

Can I request a Crosshair x fem!reader one-shot with the prompt "every time i see you, i fall in love all over again" with Crosshair saying this to the reader after seeing her do something silly/cute (and they've been married for a few years already) ? I just feel like it'll be so cute 🥰

4000 Prompt List Celebration

Crosshair X Fem!Reader

word count: 1.2k

prompt

• “Every time I see you, I fall in love all over again.”

Warnings: Fluffy goodness, married couple, female reader, kisses, reader is a terrible cook, baking chaos, pet names, soft crosshair.

Authors note: so sorry for the wait my darling! @coraex , hopefully this is fluffy enough for you! Enjoy 💜

Life on Pabu was a paradise. The weather was always idyllic, the beach pristine, and your husband, well, he was nothing short of perfect. Yet, amidst this perfection, there lingered one imperfection: your baking skills, or rather, lack thereof. However, fate bestowed upon you an opportunity to fix this flaw while your husband ventured off on a supply run for the people.

And so with meticulous precision, you measured each ingredient, ensuring nothing fell short of perfection. You had even ventured to local vendors and handpicked the finest ingredients to craft a savoury delicacy introduced to you by Phee so naturally, you had to make it. Or give it a go, at least.

As the oven worked its magic, you stepped onto the balcony to your home, allowing the warm breeze to tousle your hair and the sun to caress your skin. Your gaze wandered to the sky, where the familiar silhouette of the Havoc Marauder emerged.

Remaining on the balcony, you observed as the men and the lone girl disembarked the ship. Crosshair, as always, locked eyes with your shared home, a smirk adorning his features. With a wave and a beckoning gesture, you invited him to join you inside.

As soon as the door hisses open, you eagerly dash across the threshold and leap into his arms. The man staggers momentarily before finding his footing, wrapping one of his long arms around you. "Missed me, pretty lady?"

"As always," you grin, leaning back to plant a kiss on his lips. "Even if it has only been a few hours."

"At least I got a hug this time," he chuckles, placing your feet back on the ground and bestowing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Stepping back, you let Crosshair settle his belongings and smile fondly at him. "Well, last time, you went 'what? No hug for me?'" You recall, earning a playful eye roll as he places his helmet on a table next to a framed holophoto of your wedding day. Every time you look at it, nothing but fond and loving memories fill your mind.

"Very well," he declares, launching himself onto the couch, kicking his feet up on an ottoman. He pats the spot beside him, and you gratefully accept, snuggling into his side. "So, what are you trying to bake this time, then?"

"How did you know I was baking something?" you inquire, a hint of surprise in your voice, as you glance towards the kitchen where you were certain you had hidden any sign of evidence of you baking.

Then, he leans forward and as you think he’s about to steal a kiss, a mischievous glint dances in his eyes. His thumb playfully swipes across your cheek and nose, leaving behind traces of flour and sugar on his finger that he holds up that makes your face flush with embarrassment. "Ah," you chuckle, realising the source of the sensation.

He chuckles too, but his amusement is tinged with concern as he sniffs the air with a subtle frown. "How long have you been cooking for?"

Glancing at the chronometer on the wall, then back at him, you reply, "About two hours now. Should be ready in the next hour or so." Your grin conveys eagerness, but his expression remains neutral, a hint of skepticism lurking in his eyes.

“Babe, I think it’s already done.”

Again, you blink at him, momentarily taken aback. "Huh?"

“I smell burning.”

Just as he finishes his sentence, the shrill sound of the smoke alarm fills the air, and you wince at the piercing noise. Cursing above the noise, you rush towards the kitchen, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and urgency.

“Gloves! GLOVES!” Crosshair's urgent voice rings out, but you're focused on the task at hand and it falls on deaf ears. Ignoring his plea, you yank open the oven door, confronting the billowing clouds of black smoke that engulf the kitchen. Fetching your hand inside the burning oven, you grab a hold of the tray of the baked goods, yanking it out with a small yelp.

Crosshair springs into action, swift and decisive. In a matter of seconds, he's by your side, checking on you with a mixture of concern and determination etched on his features. But after you insist you’re fine, he shifts his focus to the task at hand, pushing open the window to let the smoke out and silencing the alarm with a practiced hand.

“Come here, run your hand under the tap quickly,” he instructs, his voice gentle yet firm as he guides you towards the sink. Switching the water on, he ensures the temperature is just right before gently urging your hand underneath the cool stream.

“Crosshair, I’m fine. Honestly,” you assure him which was not even a lie because you were. It was pretty much a miracle you somehow didn’t burn yourself but as for the savoury treats… burnt to a crisp.

Crosshair moves away from you and inspects the smoking tray, blinking at the almost incinerated food. “Well, maybe they taste better than they look.”

“Oh, stow it,” you retort at his sarcastic comment, though you know he means it playfully. Disappointment paints your features as you glance at the charred remnants of your baking attempt. “Why can’t I cook anything?!”

“You can. Just, badly.”

“If you’re trying to hurt my feelings, you’re succeeding,” you pout, flinging water droplets from your hand at him before switching the tap off and folding your arms over your chest in annoyance.

Crosshair comes back your way and drapes an arm over your shoulder, using his hand to tilt your chin up to look at him. “Don’t worry about it. You can try again?”

“What’s the point? I’ll probably burn our home down.”

“That’s true.”

You playfully slap his hand away and begin to tidy up your mess, Crosshair helping you along the way by washing up the tray before you move back to the sofa and faceplant onto it with a heavy sigh. The soft cushions provide some comfort as you let out a frustrated groan.

You hear the running water switch off, a small clang of him putting the washing away, and then faint steps towards you.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he starts, quickly earning a loud and unwilling-to-listen whine before you ask what about.

“That every time I see you, I fall in love all over again.”

You roll onto your back and stare up at him with narrowed eyes. “Why are you being soft?”

He laughs, warm and soft before he scoots you into his lap, taking a seat and peppering kisses over your cheek. “You know I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“I don’t care,” you giggle as you let him gush over you, “you are.” You grin at him with bright eyes. “But why did you say that?”

“It’s true,” he shrugs casually. “You may try and burn our home down all the time, but I love you all the same for it.”

You playfully squint at his jokey insult, but instead of trying to be smart and think of a retort, you kiss your husband and tell him exactly how you feel too, cherishing these moments of love and laughter.

“Let’s go out for dinner. It’s on me.” Now that’s an opportunity you won’t pass up on.

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[rizzyu]

▵▿— Flickering Candle Lights

— Dazai Osamu x gn!reader

Category: Yummy scrummy fluff, susggestive

Synopsis: You help Dazai let loose after the most tiring two weeks on his special day with a nice little bath :)

CW: Nudity, making out ayo 🤨

A/N: Happy birthday Dazaaaaiiii <3333

Click.

The front door to Dazai's dorm room creaked open and the man sluggishly strode into his mess of an abode. His hair was messy and there were bags under his tired eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping for almost two weeks now, and as much as he hate to admit, he's tired of everything. For now he just wished to slump himself onto his worn out futon beside the empty bottles of cheap sake and cans littered all around the floor.

Though, looking around, the empty bottles and cans were no longer scattered on the floor. In fact, the floor was for once actually clean. If not for his completely not-functioning brain, Dazai would've figured everything out long before he entered his room. But the answer to his curiosity came flying to him the moment you jumped out from around the corner. “HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYY” You yelled out as you leaped forward, not even caring whether people from the other dorms could hear or not. You embraced him into a tight hug and snuggled yourself into his chest.

The man was overjoyed to see you after so long but couldn’t help but be slightly confused. “Huh?” He tilted his head to the side as his gaze lingered on you. “It’s your birthday, have you forgotten?” You looked up upon hearing his noise of confusion. Dazai sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “Noo…? Of course not.” You stared at him with a deadpanned look on your face.

“Alright fine, I forgot. I was so busy lately though… You can’t blame me, right bella? Besides, it’s not that important anyway.”

You dramatically gasped at his remark, feeling absolutely flabbergasted. “What?? Don’t say that! I promise I’ll make you cherish your birthday and look forward to the next one!” Dazai found himself softly smiling at your words as you pulled away slightly and grasped his hand in yours. “Have you seen the bathroom yet?” You watched as Dazai slightly shook his head before dragging him to the bathroom.

Dazai’s eyes widened at the sight. You really have overdone yourself this time, haven’t you? The bathtub was filled with steaming water with fresh crimson rose pedals floating on it, creating perfect ripples. Meanwhile, lit candles are placed all over the side of the tub. Refreshing scents filled the warm steamy room while the flickering candle lights set a comfortable atmosphere. The corners of Dazai’s lips curled up into a soft smile before he leaned down to press a quick and fleeting kiss on your cheek.

“You did all this for me? Heheh thank you my bella”

He cradled your face in his palms ever so tenderly, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones, as he leaned forward to press another kiss to your forehead. “Shall we get in bella?” You nodded and began helping Dazai shred of his layers, gently pushing his coat, his waistcoat and his shirt down his shoulders. You press a kiss to his bandaged neck before helping him unwrap the ribbons of bandages off his scarred body. You let Dazai help you unbutton your shirt and slip your slacks off before letting you guide him into the bathtub.

A pleasant sigh escaped Dazai’s lips as he felt the warm water envelop his body. You hands trailed up his torso and found refuge on the smooth surface of his shoulders, kneading gently down onto his tense muscles to release the built-up stress. Dazai’s hands held onto your hips as you let your hands trail down again and your lips pressed soft kisses on his neck and shoulders. Trails of soft whimpers escaped his pretty lips at the sensation he hadn’t felt for so long.

Unable to hold back, he cupped your cheeks and brought your face to his, clashing his lips to yours. You gasped softly when he pulled you into that passionate kiss. His tongue dragged along your bottom lip, asking for access before slipping in when you gave him permission. Your tongues danced together before you pulled away, gasping desperately for air. You pressed another chaste kiss to his lips and buried my face into the crook of his neck. The candles on the side illuminating your bodies embraced together in a warm yellow light, as you whispered:

“Happy birthday ‘Samu.”

19/6/2024

[hunnykpop]

Catch of the Day

Reader X Rafayel

---

As it was getting on to the colder months of Linkon, Rafayel asked you to come and stay over his place. When asked why, he simply said it was because he desperately needed inspiration but can’t get it, now that it’s too cold outside. It was a poor excuse, you knew, but you laughed and agreed anyway. 

Upon arrival, Rafayel immediately had you move to his work studio, not giving you a chance to say anything. As he sits you down on his chaise lounge chair, before moving in front of his desk with all of his paints and brushes, he seems to contemplate something.

“Little joys in life, huh? Hmm…” He says, letting out a hum, “Like finding the perfect shade of crimson for my Lemuria series–it’s practically screaming, ‘paint me, you fool!’”

A smirk forms on his lips while he begins to swirl a brush in a small pot of vibrant blue paint. His purple eyes turn a slight shade of pink as he looks up at you, his voice ringing out when he calls your name.

“What’s your little joy today?” He asks as he turns to face you, leaning back to sit on the edge of his desk.

His eyes hold a playful glint in them and you wonder what’s got him in such a good mood. Not that you minded it, of course…It’s just…but then again, it’s Rafayel. Seeing the expectant look for an answer, you clear your throat.

“Hmm…” You think about it, before deciding to tease him a little, a small smile on your lips, “My little joy today is you, my little fishy.”

You see the way he pauses, his hand stopping mid-stir. Then, he smirks, a low chuckle escaping him, while a blush rises to his cheeks. He sets down the pot of blue paint in his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. Your heart races at the soft expression in his blue-pink orbs, your throat drying at the teasing smile on his lips.

“Well, I’m flattered,” Rafayel finally breaks the silence, “But I’ll have you know I’m not so little.”

His voice is low and husky, dripping with a sense of playfulness, yet it makes your body go on alert, your pulse slipping into overdrive, especially when he winks at you.

“And I’m definitely not a fish,” He glances at you, a mischievous grin on his face, “Unless…you want me to be your catch of the day?”

It’s a terrible joke but it makes your heart leap. Perhaps because of the way he said it? You didn’t know.

Rafayel let out a laugh, shaking his head as he turned around to face his desk, swirling the brush in the paint. 

“Although, with you, I’d happily be caught.”

He glances over his shoulder at you, a soft, yet meaningful smile on his lips. A fierce blush finds its way onto your cheeks as you blink at him. You remain silent, unable to form any words, except sit there and blush.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Atychiphobia

Summary:

Atychiphobia is an intense fear of failure. Fear of failure is self-limiting and causes severe stress and anxiety. It can impair your present relationships, goals to succeed, and productivity.

Ford Pines gets paid a visit one night from a certain dream demon.

Author's Note: I’ll have you all know I started with the intent of like, a 6k one shot. It’s now eight chapters and 28,000 words with an inspiration playlist and it took me two months to finish. It is done already though, so I'm gonna post one chapter every Saturday morning until it's all out. I hope you enjoy it!

...

It’s during a dream that Ford first meets Bill.

It starts off as a really good dream, too.  He and Stan have finished fixing the Stan-O-War and are casting off to the open sea.  Ford can see scientific anomalies and monsters in the distance for him, and treasure and cute girls for Stan.  Stan’s talking excitedly about all of the adventures they’re about to have, and Ford has mapped it out so they’ll still be home in time for dinner.

But just as they’re about to sail out of sight of Glass Shard Beach, Ford hears a cackle of laughter from beside him, and not like Stan’s normal-sounding laughter.

“Stanley?” Ford asks, turning in confusion.

Stan turns to face him too, but his smile is way too wide, and his eyes are yellow with slitted pupils.

Ford yelps and leaps backwards, only for definitely-not-Stanley to reach out and grab him by the shirt.

“Careful there, Sixer,” says a voice that also doesn’t belong to Stanley.  “You might fall!”

Ford looks behind him and finds that the edge of the boat is a lot closer than he remembers it being.

Not-Stanley yanks him forward, and Ford yelps again, landing on his hands and knees on the deck.  He looks up and sees Stan grinning unnaturally down at him.

“Stan?” he asks weakly.  Not-Stan laughs.

“Nope!” he calls, and then from Stan’s eye emerges a top hat, and then a bright yellow shape, and then Stan vanishes completely.  In his place is a floating yellow triangle with a top hat and bow tie.

“Wow, have I been waiting to meet you, Sixer!” the triangle says.  Ford stands up.  He wants to take a step back, even though that didn’t work out so well last time.

“Only Stanley gets to call me that,” Ford says.

The triangle laughs, like that’s funny.

“Who are you?” Ford demands, clenching his hands into fists and trying to be brave.  “Give Stanley back!”

The triangle laughs again.  “Wow, you’re the first Sixer I’ve met who’s ever said that,” he says.

“What?”

The triangle looks at him, and despite the fact that he doesn’t have a mouth, Ford gets the distinct impression that he’s smiling.

“Aww, you’re just a little shrimp, aren’t ya?” he says.  “No wonder you want your other half around.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Ford says weakly.

“Oh, my bad,” the triangle says.  He holds out a hand.  “I’m Bill!  I don’t think we’ve met in this dimension yet!”

“In this what?” Ford asks, ignoring the hand.  He’s still trying to figure out how the triangle is talking without a mouth.

“This dimension, Sixer!  This is a fun one!  You’re a tad young, but no way that can stop you for long!”

“I— huh?”

“I’ve met you in too many dimensions, you never let anything stop you!” Bill continues, as if Ford’s confusion doesn’t exist.  “You’re too smart for that!”

Ford blinks.  “Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me, I’m just pointing out facts!  You’ve got a lot of potential, kid!  I’ll be keeping an eye on you!  Wouldn’t want to let it go to waste!”

Ford doesn’t know what to say to that, but it doesn’t end up mattering, because that’s about the time he hears “Hey, Sixer,” and feels a poke on his cheek.

Ford groans and rolls over in bed, burying his head back in his pillow.

“Sixer,” says the much more familiar voice of his brother.  “Wake up, Grauntie Mabel’s making pancakes, we’ve gotta get down there and stop her from adding glitter.”

And well, that is a real concern, so Ford manages to pull his head up with another groan and a grumble, and rubs at his eyes.

“I’ll hold her off as long as I can,” Stan says, from his spot right next to Ford’s bed.  “Just get downstairs quick!”

He runs out before Ford can say anything else.

Ford yawns, stretches, and forces himself into a sitting position.

“What a weird dream,” he mumbles to himself as he slips his feet out of bed.

…

He doesn’t put together that the triangle demon Fiddleford and Stan say they saw talking to Bud Gleeful is Bill until they’re inside Grauntie Mabel’s head.  But strangely enough, Bill doesn’t act like he knows him at all, and things are a little too urgent at the time for him to think much about it.

And after they’re done stopping Bill, well, things hardly get less urgent.  Ford doesn’t have any time to think about the fact that he had a weird dream about Bill being nice to him until after they’ve stopped Bud and have headed back home to the craft store to relax.  Grauntie Mabel promises to make a breakfast for dinner of pancakes with edible glitter, which Ford and Stan consent to as a fair compromise, and they all end up in the kitchen, laughing and reminiscing on all the crazy things that have happened the past couple of days.

But it’s only after Grauntie Mabel has gone to feed Waddles dinner that Stan says, “Man, I should have known the evil demon trying to take over Grauntie Mabel’s head was a distraction.  Classic bait-and-switch.”

And Ford’s eyes widen as he realizes he’d completely forgotten about Bill in the events of the last couple days.

“Uh, hey,” he says, turning to face Stanley.  “Stan—”

“Alright, share those, I’m not making any more tonight,” comes Grauntie Mabel’s voice, and she yanks away the last two pancakes that Stan had been about to reach for.  “You each get one, and head up to bed, it’s way too late as it is.”

“But Grauntie Mabel,” Stan whines.  “We defeated an evil fake psychic today!  Can’t we stay up a little later as a reward?”

“You can stay up later at the karaoke party we’re having on Saturday to celebrate,” Grauntie Mabel says, waving her hand towards the steps.  “Come on, we’ve all had a very long couple days.  I’m an old lady, I need my beauty rest.  And so does Waddles.”  She reaches down and rubs the pig on the head, who gives a satisfied oink as if to confirm.

“Does it have to be a karaoke party?” Stan mutters, but he shovels another couple bites of pancake in his mouth and then pushes his chair back.

“Goodnight Grauntie Mabel,” Ford calls quickly, pushing his chair back to follow Stan.  “Uh, hey,” he calls to Stan as they start up the steps.  “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” Stan asks, glancing over at him.

“Had you ever, like, seen Bill before?  Like, before you and Fiddleford found him talking to Bud?”

“No, why?” Stan asks.  “You see him in the journal or somethin’?”

Well, that too.  And the author’s paranoid scribblings about never trusting or summoning Bill at any costs just made Ford more confused about the dream he’d had before.  But if Stan doesn’t know anything about him, then he must not have gotten a similar dream.  Which is weird.  Bill mentioned Stan in the dream, so he clearly knows about him.  Why would he only talk to Ford?  Did it have something to do with Bill calling him smart and talking about his potential?  Did he not view Stan the same way?  But then, the Bill from his dream had acted very different from the Bill who invaded Grauntie Mabel’s head.  Then again, if he’d been working for Bud, maybe he was just doing what Bud told him to?  Stan said they’d made a deal of some kind.  But if the author clearly thinks he’s not trustworthy, that’s probably not something Ford should just write off.

“Ford?”

Ford blinks, and Stan’s staring curiously at him.

“You good?” he asks.  “You just kinda… stopped talking, there.”

“I’m good,” Ford says, mostly on instinct.  “Just… thinking.”

“‘Bout what?”

Ford bites his lip.  “Nothing,” he decides on.  He doesn’t know what he thinks about anything yet, and Grauntie Mabel’s right, it’s been a long couple days.  He doesn’t want to bother Stan with questions about Bill right at the tail end of their victory.  “I’ll tell you in the morning, okay?”

Stan looks at him for another moment, and then shrugs.  “Okay,” he says, and then starts back up the stairs again towards the attic.  Ford follows him, trying to put Bill out of his mind for the night.  Besides, they’ll have plenty of time to figure things out now that Grauntie Mabel’s not sending them home.

Ford’s planning on heading straight to bed as soon as they get there, but as they walk into the attic, Stan says, “Hey,” and when Ford turns around he sees him holding up a hand.

“You were awesome today, Sixer,” Stan says with a bright smile.  “I’m never gonna forget the look on Bud’s stupid face.  High six?”

Ford grins at him, and slaps Stan’s hand with his own.  “High six,” he says.

Stan grins wider as he starts back over to his bed, and as he climbs under his covers, adds, “See?  You don’t need the journal to be awesome.  You can do amazing things all on your own.”

Ford looks away as he climbs into bed to hide his smile at that one.  “You were pretty awesome too, you know,” he says after a second, turning to face Stan again.  “With that grappling hook.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stan says, in a falsely cocky voice, putting his hands on his hips.  But the smile on his face as they start over to their beds shows that he appreciates it.

Ford laughs a little.  “Goodnight, knucklehead,” he says, laying down and pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Night, dumb-dumb!” Stan calls back cheerfully.

Both of them fall asleep smiling.

…

Ford’s not sure how much time has passed when he opens his eyes again, but it’s still dark in the attic.  Ford glances up towards the window for any sign of a coming morning, but oddly enough, he can’t even see the stars that are usually visible through the window.

Ford pushes the covers back and sits up, turning to face the window.  Is this more Gravity Falls weirdness?

He walks quietly over to the window and peeks out, but nothing’s outside of it, just a long black expanse.

“Um,” he says, starting to get a little nervous.  He turns to the bed on the other side of the room and whispers, “Stanley.”

A grumble comes from the bed.  Ford walks over and pokes Stan in the shoulder.  “Stanley, wake up—”

Stan spins over in bed, sudden and visceral, his bones cracking audibly.  Ford screams and leaps back a step, before Stan’s eyes snap open to reveal bright yellow irises.

“Heya again, Sixer!” yells a now-familiar voice.  Stanley’s body peels back in a way that’s not much better than the bones cracking, and Ford looks away, feeling nauseous.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees Bill float up from what was Stanley a second ago.

Bill turns around and laughs, poking the mush left on the bed.  “Man, he’d look good as a corpse!”

“Stop it!” Ford screams, turning around completely and shoving his hands over his ears.

“Aw, come on, Sixer, I’m just having a little fun!  Tons of other versions of you thought that was funny!”

Ford just shoves his hands over his ears tighter, though it doesn’t seem to do anything to block Bill’s voice.

“Not your style yet, huh Sixer?”

“Stop calling me that!” Ford says, turning around and keeping his gaze firmly away from the other bed.  “Only Stanley gets to call me that!”

Bill laughs again.  “Man, I always forget how tight you two are at first.  Just weird to see, lemme tell ya.”

“What are you talking about?” Ford asks, clenching his hands into fists.  “And why did you invade Grauntie Mabel’s head?  And why did you act like we’d never talked before when we found you?”

“Woah, slow down, Sixer, one question at a time,” Bill says, amusement bleeding into his eye.  “Look, Shooting Star was nothing personal.  Just the terms of the deal, you know?  Besides, you and your useless brother beat me in the end.  No harm no foul.”

Ford grits his teeth.  “Okay, I’ve decided, I don’t like you,” he says.  “Leave me alone.”

“Oh, calm down, Sixer,” Bill says.  “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t like your version of help,” Ford says coolly.  “You almost hurt my Grauntie, and you’re mean to my brother.”

“Hey, sorry bud,” Bill says, holding up his hands.  “Old habits die hard.  I learned it from you, you know.”

“Why do you keep saying stuff like that?  Stanley’s not useless, you’re just being mean!”

Bill laughs again, sounding harsher and meaner than before.  “I always forget how little you humans know about the multiverse.  Come here, I’ll show you!”

“What do you—” Ford starts.  But before he can finish, Bill grabs him by the arm and yanks him upwards, through the air and towards the attic window.

Ford yelps and tries to shield his face from the glass, but they pass right through, and when he opens his eyes he sees a car driving away from their house.  He doesn’t recognize the car, but Bill points at it like it means something.

“I’d imagine you’ve got about six years left before that brother of yours realizes what you really are and kicks you to the curb,” Bill says.  “That’s him in the car, getting far away from you.  Can’t blame him, really.”

Ford scowls and yanks his arm away.  “You’re a liar,” he says.  “Stanley wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ve got a couple dozen dimensions that prove you wrong, Sixer,” Bill says, grabbing his arm again.  “You want to take a tour?”

Ford tries to yank his arm away, but Bill just tightens his grip, and the world around them shifts again.  The type of car changes, but it’s still driving away from their house, and when Bill yanks them down next to the car, the person inside really does look a lot like an older version of Stan.  He looks angry, and he’s glaring out the window ahead of him, not seeming too interested in what’s back at the house.

“That doesn’t mean he’s leaving,” Ford snaps, glaring at Bill, since he can’t seem to pull his arm out of his grasp.  “That’s what Stan does when he’s upset, he needs space.”

Bill laughs again.  “Sure seems like a lot of space, then,” he says.  He snaps his fingers, and time seems to rewind around them, until the car stops with the older-looking-Stan outside of it.  Ford watches as he shouts up at the house: “I can make it on my own!  I don’t need you!  I don’t need anyone!”

Then, without another word, he climbs in the car and drives away.

“Stop it!” Ford snaps at Bill, trying to ignore the squirming nervous feeling that’s taken root in his stomach.  “You’re a liar, Stanley wouldn’t just leave me!”

“Oh, he wouldn’t now?” Bill asks, and he pulls them both away from the scene again, quickly through a bunch of other ones— other dimensions, Ford supposes?  They’re moving too quickly for Ford to really look at what’s happening, but he gets a couple of clear images— Stanley punching him in the face, shoving him away from him, shoving him towards some kind of futuristic looking glowing triangle, yelling something in his face and then storming off and not coming back, and not coming back, and not coming back, and—

“Stop it!” Ford screams, squeezing his eyes shut.  “Stop it, stop it, I don’t wanna see!”

“Well, that’s not a good attitude to have, kid!” Bill says, still sounding incredibly amused by everything.  “I’m just trying to prepare you!  It’s gonna happen eventually, you should be ready for it!”

“It’s not, it’s not!” Ford protests, trying to pull his arm away from Bill’s again.  “Stanley’s not going to leave me, you’re a liar!”

Bill laughs again, but there’s something darker about it, and that something almost forces Ford to open his eyes.  Bill’s eye is glowing bright red now, and Ford doesn’t like the manic energy in it.  He tries harder to pull his arm away, but his wrist starts to strain in a way he doesn’t like.

“‘Course he is, Sixer!” Bill calls brightly.  “And you know why?”

He lets go of Ford’s hand, and Ford screams as he starts to fall into the air, but before he can get very far, Bill grows ten times larger and catches Ford in his left hand.  Ford tries to run and leap off the edge of the hand, but Bill just casually dumps him into his other one, and then back into his first, until Ford lands in his right hand dizzy and stumbling.  Bill shifts his grip until he’s grasping Ford tightly, and then brings him right up to his bright red eye.

“It’s because your brother realizes what you really are,” Bill says, his voice suddenly deeper and angrier.  “A washed up miserable failure who squanders all your potential.  A lonely freak whose most unique trait is something he didn’t even earn.”  Bill shifts his grip and pushes Ford’s arm up into the air, presenting his six fingers on full display.  It’s probably Ford’s imagination, but he can swear for a second he hears Stanley’s laughter.

“You’re nothing special, kid,” Bill says, leaning his enormous eye right into Ford’s face.  “And sooner or later, your brother’s going to realize it too.  I’m just making sure you’re ready for when everyone finally knows what a failure you are.”

“I—” Ford manages, trying to lean away.  “I’m not!  You’re wrong!”

Bill cackles.  “I got a couple dozen dimensions that prove me right, Sixer,” he says.  “But don’t worry, we can continue our tour another time.  Besides, you’ve got stuff to do.”

And with that, he tilts his head back, turns his one eye into a large, gaping mouth, and then tosses Ford up towards it.  The mouth snaps shut around him, and Ford screams.

…

He wakes up gasping and panicking, grasping for anything around him, some kind of way to pry Bill’s mouth open.  But his hands only meet empty air.  It takes him a second to realize he’s not being eaten by a dream demon, and is instead back in the attic.

He leans forward and drops his head into his knees, his breathing still way too short and shallow and panicked.

“St-Stanley?” he calls, trying to make it loud enough to get his brother’s attention.  There isn’t any response, and that increases Ford’s panic enough that he yanks his head up.

The sun is shining in through the window, and the attic is empty.

Ford scrambles from the bed and towards the steps, making his way down them as quickly as he can with how badly his legs are shaking.

He hears Stanley’s voice as he reaches the bottom of the steps, sounding like it’s coming from the kitchen.

“I’m just saying, reheated they’re never as good,” he says.  “Just how it is.”

“Oh, I see,” comes Grauntie Mabel’s rather amused voice.  “Well, if you want to make fresh pancakes every time you want to eat them, you go for it, but in the meantime, you’re asking an awful lot of me, buddy.”

“Excuse me, I’m the child?  That’s my job.”

Grauntie Mabel snorts with laughter.  Ford doesn’t want to interrupt them, and instead he leans back against the wall at the bottom step, trying to take a deep breath in.

“Just a nightmare,” he whispers to himself.  “Calm down, it’s just Bill trying to mess with you.  You’re okay.”

He stays there for a little longer, until his legs stop feeling quite so shaky, and then he pushes himself up.  He takes one more deep breath, and starts slowly towards the kitchen.

Stan is sitting with his back to him when he walks into the entryway, but Grauntie Mabel smiles at him from the place across from the door.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she calls.  “You’re up later than usual.  Want some pancakes?”

“Don’t bother, they’re reheated,” Stan calls, while shoveling another bite in his mouth, which makes for a bit of a confusing message.

Ford just nods in response to Grauntie Mabel, and when she climbs up to get a new plate and get the pancakes from the fridge, he walks forward and sits down in the open chair next to Stan.

“Hey, Sixer, great news!” Stan calls, grinning up at him.  “Now that we have an actual house back, Fiddleford’s dad is letting him come over and play again!  He called a little bit ago, he says he’ll be here after lunch!”

Ford gives the best smile he can manage.  “That’s awesome,” he says, hoping Stan can’t see right through him.

Stan has always been able to see right through him.

His smile dips into a concerned frown.  “Hey, you good?”

“Just a bad dream,” Ford admits.  “I… can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Stan says, turning to face him a little more directly as he gives him his attention.

“Would you… I mean, if I…” he trails off, the same desperate panic from his nightmare starting to crawl its way up his throat again.

“Would I, if you…” Stan prompts.

Ford looks up at him, takes in Stan’s earnest concerned face, and realizes he can’t get the words out.

“Would you mind if we skip the monster hunting today?” he asks.  “I think I’m a little beat after all the stuff with Bud.”

Stan looks at him a moment longer.  “Sure, no problem,” he says after a second.  “But are you sure that’s what you wanted to ask?”

Ford clenches his hands into fists under the table.  “I’m sure.”

“Fresh reheated pancakes, at your service,” comes Grauntie Mabel’s voice, and Ford takes the distraction, turning with a smile and taking the plate from her.

“Thanks, Grauntie Mabel,” he says, and cuts up and shovels a bite in his mouth as quickly as he can.

Stan doesn’t say anything else, which is fine, because he doesn’t need to.  Ford can manage this all by himself, because Bill’s wrong.  He’s not a failure.

He’s gonna prove it, too.

[duckymcdoorknob]

𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓪𝔂 1: 𝓐𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

SEND FUCKING HELP I FLUSTERED MYSELF WRITING THIS

Tags @undercovergamer @ticklish-n-stuff @chrimsss

—This do have tickles under the cut—

Aether should have known better than to challenge Itto in, well, anything. After all, as the old saying goes, never poke a sleeping, erm, oni... The blonde was currently running through the fields of Narukami island, Itto hot on his heels.

“Get back here, you little brat! You can’t escape the wrath of numero uno!” Itto roared, effortlessly hurdling tree stumps and leaping across rocks.

“I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it!” the traveler whined in reply, keeping an eye on his footing.

In all reality, there wasn’t a bone in Aether’s body that anticipated Itto actually harming him. But, maybe he should have thought a bit before he said that the oni was a bad TCG player…

“Oh yeeeeaaaah sure! Didn’t mean it my left- WAH!”

Aether snapped his head backwards to see that the oni had overlooked a small stone, and he was now face-down in the grass.

“Haha! Smell ya later- woAH-“

Before he could realize, the blonde toppled onto the grass, using his hands to break his fall. Ouch… As he attempted to scramble to his feet, he felt a weight press onto the center of his back.

When his head whipped around, the traveler was met by an amused snort from Ushi, the very same “obstacle” that he had tripped over.

“Ushi! How could you just betray me like this, after everything we’ve been through?!” Aether whined as he tried to push himself upward.

“Haha! Good boy, Ushi! Who’s my widdle babywaby abuubuubuubuububbah-“

The traveler couldn’t help but snort at the incoherent baby talk that was being vested upon the animal atop of his back.

“Oh? Is something funny, mister tough guy? Huh? Got anymore zingers for me n’ Ushi? Eh?” Itto interrogated, effortlessly lifting the little bull, and flipping the blonde over to face him.

Aether squeaked at how easily the oni flipped him, glowing red when both of his arms were pinned above his head with great ease.

“Ohhhh? Someone’s embarrassed, how adorable!” Itto cooed as he pinched the traveler’s left cheek.

The blonde giggled a bit in nervousness from the contact, squirming in the white-haired male’s hold.

“Ohohoho! Got a case of the giggles, traveler? I know juuuuuust the cure!”

The oni formed his right hand into a claw and wiggled his fingers above Aether’s neck. The swordsman squeaked and giggled once more, attempting to wiggle away from the threatening claw.

“No? You don’t want your giggles to go away? Aww, soooo sad. I guess we’ll have to get you to the doctor then!” The oni stuck his lip out and pretended to pour as his fingers continued to wiggle above the traveler’s body.

He moved his hand downward toward the blonde’s middle, coming dangerously close to touching.

“Ihihihittohoho!”

“Hmm?”

“Stahahahap thahahat!” Aether whined as he tried to wriggle a hand free, the ghost tickles not giving him any mercy.

“I haven’t even touched you yet!”

“Ihihi cahahan feheheel ihihihit! Stahaha-AGH Stahahappihihihit!”

“What do you mean? Stop what? I’m not even doing anything!” Itto rebutted as he repeatedly inched his hands closer and then recoiled, accentuating his teases as he dipped dangerously close to Aether’s bare stomach. “Ooooh, Itto’s gonna gETCha! Ohhhh yES he is! Ohhhhhh he’s gonna gETCha!”

The traveler whined incoherently as his giggles grew in volume and his squirms were more desperate. “Ihihihitto! Plehehehehease! I cahahant tahahahake ihihihit!”

“Please what? You gotta tell me what to do, or else you’ll never be free from the wrath of numero uno!”

“Gohohods- juhuhust dohohoho it ahahalreheheady!”

“Oh? What am I gonna do?”

The traveler whined through his giggles as itto’s hand got closer and closer to his bare stomach…

“You want me to… tickle ya? Huh? Want me to get my revenge so bad? You must love it, how adooooorable!don’t worry, Itto’s gonna getcha, ohh yes he is!”

“IHIHIHITTOHOHO!” The blonde’s face were as red as the fresh dendrobium that had toppled out of his bag. “JUHUHUST TIHIHICKLE MEHEHE ALREHEHEADY!”

“Oh, tickle you? You’ve got it, traveler!” With a Cheshire grin, the oni released Aether’s arms and used both hands to gently squeeze at the blonde’s stomach.

The traveler squealed as he regretted his words, hands instantly shooting down to grab the Oni’s wrists. “WAITWAITWAITWAHAHAHAIT! IHIHIHI LIHIHIHIED! IHIHIHITTOHOHO!”

“No waiting now! I thought you wanted me to tickle you so bad? If you’d like, we can go back to the game we played before!” The oni chirped, continuing his gentle, ticklish assault on the poor traveler.

“HYEHEHEHAHAHA! IHIHIHITTOHOHOHO! WAHAHAHAIT!” The blonde shrieked as the ticklish squeezes on his right side switched to gentle pinching around his belly button. “HOHOHOHOLD OHOHOHON!”

The oni paused and let Aether regain his wind. “You okay, little buddy?”

“Y-Yeah. Just, uh… just a bit flustered. Give me a minute to cool off.” The traveler admitted, ears burning a fiery pink.

“Oh you are just so freakin’ cute-“ Itto gushed as he gave a little prod to the blonde’s side.

After a few moments, Aether nodded, resulting in another toothy grin from the oni.

“Just tell me to stop whenever you need a break, cause this oni is getting his proper revenge.” With a swift movement, Aether found his arms pinned above his head once more. “And we ain’t stopping till I’m the one outta breath.”

The traveler rued the day he ever made the teasing comment toward the oni the second he felt Itto’s lips blow a raspberry on the side of his belly button. He threw his head back and shrieked as he realized he had a longggg way to go.

Aether and his big mouth…

🎃————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎————🎃

[junnieverse]

KISS AND TELL ➳ C. SOOBIN

➙ synopsis: you and soobin had been best friends for as long as you could remember and during the course of your friendship you developed a crush on him. Could confessing be the right way to go?

pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au

word count: 1.3k

warnings: not proofread so there may be a few typos I didn't notice.

"(Y/N)!!"

Not failing to recognise the voice, your door was busted open as Soobin excitedly ran into your room and leaped on top of you disrupting your once peaceful relaxation in bed.

"Geez Soob, you're so heavy dude." you groan in pain feeling his weight on you as he laughed.

Choi Soobin had been your best friend for the past eight years and over the time you managed to developed a small, tiny, itsy bitsy HUMONGOUS crush on him.

I mean who could possibly blame you, Soobin was adorable, funny, had the cutest chubby cheeks, pretty eyes, tall, handsome and had such a caring heart.

Just perfect.

"I just missed my best friend." he said giving you a tight hug not moving in the slightest no matter how much you tried pushing him off of you.

"Okay, now get off before I tickle you." you tell him still attempting to use all your strength to get him to let go.

"Say it back now or I'm not moving," he interjected as he lifts his head sticking his tongue out at you teasingly.

Feeling your cheeks heaten up at the close proximity you were both in, you mentally debate whether or not to say it back but decide to rather stay quiet having secretly enjoyed this affectionate side of his.

"So we're just gonna stay and cuddle like this?" you ask shyly as he nods with his head laid between the crook of your neck.

"Not unless you say it back, unless you didn't miss me," he tells you.

"Well ofcourse I missed you... now get off," you admit to which Soobin chuckles holding onto you even closer.

"No I'm good, it's more comfortable this way," he teases you as you only sigh in response.

It was the things like this Soobin did that made your heart want to beat right out of your chest.

He wasn't even actively flirting with you and yet he had you wrapped right around his finger.

You then slowly reached out your one hand to gently massage his head since you knew how much he enjoyed those and you both stayed laying in bed that way enjoying the comfortable silence.

Using your other free hand to busy yourself on social media, you soon found yourself scrolling through Tiktok and came across one challenge in particular which caught your attention.

'Kiss your best friend challenge'

You had seen a few people doing this challenge all over your feed, some being successful whilst others... weren't.

What was crazy was the fact that you were actually considering trying this with Soobin.

I mean there's absolutely no possible way he would even kiss back, all you were to Soobin was his best friend of many years and despite being happy with that title, you knew you wanted more out of it too.

Seemingly lost in thought, you're brought back to reality feeling Soobin poke your cheek.

"You okay? You zoned out for a good minute there," he asks poking your cheek again playfully as he showed his infamous dimpled smile.

"Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I'm okay Binnie. Just thinking." you tell him smiling softly to not worry him.

Could you ever really confess to him?

This challenge could either make or break your relationship with Soobin and you weren't sure you were ready to take that grand leap of faith that could change everything between you both.

Be it for the good or bad.

Honestly the logical side of you was saying no but your heart and intuition was saying you had to take the risk to see results.

And that's what you were going to do.

"Hey Soobin?" you called out to him as he hummed in response.

"Could I try this Tiktok with you?"

"What's the challenge?" he asks curiously sitting up as you did the same.

Setting up your ring light to use as a tripod, you then set the phone in front of where he was seated.

"Don't worry. You just need to sit next to me and look pretty like always."

You proceeded to set the timer and countdown and waited for the music.

Making your way back to him, you sit down next to Soobin and he awkwardly smiled looking at you signalling to ask what is going on.

The music started playing and you held Soobin's hands placing them around your waist as he looked at you completely confused.

"Here we go," you mumbled under your breath.

When the timing was right, you gently placed your hands on his face and leaned in to kiss him.

Just as you were prepared to pull away and deal with the rejection you were left baffled when he kissed back!

Smiling into the kiss, you felt his grip tighten around your waist as he laid you down on the bed hovering over you to deepen the kiss.

You then realise what just happened and pull away and jolt up from your position in the bed as your eyes widen in pure shock.

"W-what in the world just happened..." you mumbled to yourself as your fingers gently touched your lips.

Looking over at Soobin who was turning as red as a tomato, you excitedly hug him as he hugged you back.

Pulling away, you let out a deep breath before confessing, "I like you Soobin... a lot."

"I like you too (Y/n)... a lot." he tells you shyly as you both laugh at the turn of events.

Maybe making the Tiktok wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"How about I take you out on a real first date soon? But before that, I have a suprise for you in the kitchen." He says sheepishly smiling as he looks down.

How can someone this big be so adorable, he's such a baby.

"Well what are we waiting for then, let's go."

He then crouched in front of you and usually someone would be suprised at this but Soobin sometimes enjoyed carrying you on his back.

You then hopped on his back holding on tightly and went on your way to the kitchen.

Soobin then sat you down on the counter as he proceeded to then open the oven and showed you the tray of bread rolls.

"You made those?" you ask as the whiff of the freshly made bread hit your nose

"Yep, and obviously it wouldn't be fun to eat them alone so I thought we could enjoy them together." he says looking proud of how his baked goods turned out.

He looked through one of the cabinets searching for plates and he got two out so you could both evenly share the rolls.

You both casually conversed enjoying the bread Soobin had made and before you knew it, your plate had been cleared.

In all fairness Soobin did an amazing job, it all tasted amazing.

Although it did seem like Soobin had one left...

Slowly maneuvering your hand onto the plate whilst he wasnt paying any attention, you stole his bread roll and ran into your bedroom as he chased closely behind you managing to catch up.

"Yah! I know you stole my last bread roll!" he yelled as he tackled you trying to tickle you in an effort to get his bread.

Finally giving in, you gave Soobin his bread as you laid in bed trying to calm yourself down from all the intense laughing.

He broke the bread in half giving you a piece and he playfully rolled his eyes as you thanked him.

Placing a quick kiss to his cheek you watched him redden in suprise and you couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

"I'm glad you did that Tiktok challenge." he says pulling you closer.

"Yeah?"

"Because now I can actually kiss you whenever I want."

Nodding in agreement you finally closed the gap between each other feeling his soft lips on yours once again.

This was a feeling you would definitely never get used to.

And it was all thanks to a Tiktok challenge.

All you had to do was kiss and tell