#not as much as the last one *glares at mechanic* I mean who? there’s no ep 3 in Skybound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alltheirdamn · 3 months

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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 3

Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.

It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.

You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.

“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.”

“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.

“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am, too,” you sighed.

Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.

“I need you.”

Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.

“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.

“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.

“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you.

“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.

Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses.

Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp.

“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”

“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”

“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Need it!” You cried.

Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.

“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”

“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!”

“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”

You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.

“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered.

Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.

“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.

You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace.

Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”

His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you.

“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”

You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition.

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”

Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.

“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.

“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.

You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled.

“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”

“Thanks, cowboy.”

December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.

It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.

“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.

“He’ll love it,” you assured her.

You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.

“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”

Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.

“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”

“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism.

You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.

“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.

He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.

“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”

You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that.

Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.

“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly.

“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”

Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you.

Of course, you mouthed back.

He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin.

“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.”

“Yes, you do,” you responded.

Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you.

“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”

“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.

“Joel, I—.”

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.

“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”

His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.

“Swear?” You asked.

“On my life.”

Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it.

“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.

Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”

You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.

“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms.

“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised.

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you.

“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”

“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”

You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue.

He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body.

Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.

“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.

“I love you, darlin’. Always.”

The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands.

“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.

“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”

“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged.

“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.

“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.

Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.

“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”

“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.

“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door.

You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face.

“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss.

“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt.

Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.

“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”

“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.

You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.

You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.

Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.

“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”

“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”

“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”

“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”

“Take me home, cowboy.”

You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes.

“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.

“I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #mechanic!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #one shot #joel miller pre outbreak

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jay7543 · 2 months

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okay so I absolutely LOVED your king!Konig x reader! I was wondering if you could do a Mechanic Konig and male reader? So reader has absolutely no idea how to fix his car and he goes to Konig’s shop for help, it can be fluffy or smutty

I love your posts and I can’t wait for the next update!!

Your hot new mechanic, könig

M4m

Sfw

Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it, I feel like there needs to be more gay/ bi man stuff so I am happy to provide. It’s a bit shorter than my other stuff, but I might make a part 2 that has more spicy stuff, so let me know if you want that too

Feel free to make requests!!! Doesn’t have to be cod

You have had your car for a pretty long time, by all accounts it’s an absolute piece of shit, but you love it. Lately you’ve been having so many problems with it, every fucking light is on and you just don’t know at all how to fix it, and honestly, you don’t care that much either, but your friend told you about a new mechanic nearby, and apparently he’s hot. You decide to call him

Reader-“hello? I’d like to bring my car in”

You say hesitantly, really not wanting to spend the money but also not sure about this supposedly very hot guy

König-“Ja, sure, come in when you can”

He immediately hangs up the phone, not even asking your name, well, if he’s as good as you’ve been told then who cares. You drive to his shop, not far from your house. When you get there he’s already waiting outside wearing partly ripped jeans and a white, sweat soaked t-shirt, almost as if he’s trying to show off, you guess he doesn’t have any other customers. You park near him and get out.

Reader-“hey uh, I talked to you on the phone?”

He looks you up and down, taking in you and your average looking self. You do the same to him, yet he looks a lot better, his hands covered in dried oil, his shirt soaked in sweat, his bright blue eyes staring at you, you can even see his abs through his shirt.

König-“I know, so, what’s wrong with it”

Reader-“uh, well, I don’t know much about cars, every light is on though”

You say with a nervous smile. He keeps his blank look and sticks out his hand, assumably for your keys, you hand them to him. He opens your door and pops your hood, doing…well you have no idea, you assume he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you hear him yell

König-“Was zum Teufel! When was the last time you changed you oil, or changed the damn battery”

You look around, debating whether or not you should talk

Reader-“well…I guess a few years”

He peeks out from the hood and glares at you

Reader-“I can pay whatever you need, i-I just don’t wanna get a new one. I don’t know a lot but I really like this one you know”

You say quietly, getting a bit embarrassed and sentimental about your shit box car. His gaze softens and he nods

König-“well, it won’t be easy, nor cheap, but i understand, and I’ll get it done”

He closes the hood and walks over to you, only a few inches away, you blush a bit as you start to smell whatever cologne he has on mixed with his sweat, it smells oddly good to you.

König-“you know, you’re a very pretty man, I’m not surprised you don’t know much about cars”

He chuckles. You blush even more, he called you pretty!

Reader-“I uh…well I guess you’re right. And thanks for the compliment, you look nice too”

He smiles at your obvious nervousness.

König-“let me go get something for you”

He walks away and comes back a few minutes later, he hands you a set of keys to a nearby car, an average car, nothing special but a car nonetheless.

König-“since you clearly can’t drive yours, use one of mine, I do expect It back however”

Your mouth hangs slightly agape, he’s letting you borrow his car till yours is fixed? This has to mean he likes you.

Reader-“well I-can I get your number? So we can call and text about my car. I don’t wanna have to call your shop”

He smiles and exudes an aura of confidence, as if he was waiting for you to ask. He grabs a piece of paper out of his pocket and a pen he had to write his number. He he takes your hand and places the paper in yours, keeping it held in his

König-“you know, feel free to call me, even if it’s not about your car, I know more than just cars.”

He kisses your hand and leans in to whisper in your ear

König-“I also think I could please you. No?”

He smiles and pulls away, letting go of your hand. You’re so shocked that you can’t even come up with words to respond, you just nod and stumble over to the car he’s letting you borrow. You’re definitely gonna call him

#cod x reader #m4m #bisexual #gay #smut #cod smut #konig x male reader #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig smut #cod fanfic #cod fic #cod konig

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kyletogaz · 14 days

Text

heal me (part two) | MDNI

part one

cw: angst, mentions of p in v sex, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms

you don’t move back to the house you once shared with simon. it holds too many memories.

“it just doesn’t feel right without simon,” is what you tell kyle and johnny one day when they come over to help you pack.

you’ve decided to sell the house. you tell them to take whatever they want. you have no use for it. the only thing you intend to keep is photos of you and simon, his journals, and several articles of his clothing.

“are you sure you don’t want anything else?” kyle asks when the three of you are finally done packing.

“i’m sure, kyle,” you reply, sounding as tired as you look. you’re so done with the day, you’re ready to go home.

johnny and kyle help you finish a few things around the house, before they take their leave. you don’t stick around any longer than you have to. if you remain in that house, you’re going to lose it. so you lock up, silently promising yourself that you’ll come back to deal with the rest of the boxes later.

when you get home, you go straight for the liquor cabinet to pour yourself a drink. you grimace at the taste of whiskey when it hits your tongue, ignoring the slight burn of it on it’s way down. you’re not much of a drinker, but you need something, anything to help with the pain.

you find yourself consuming a second glass as you rummage through your box that contains some of simon’s belongings. you sit the glass down on the coffee table when you feel the fabric of simon’s hoodie against your fingers. you pull it out of the box and press it to your nose, inhaling the scent of him that still lingers.

tears make their way down your cheeks before you can gain control of your emotions. you let out a soft sigh, willing yourself to stop crying. you’re surprised you still have tears left to cry, because it’s been non stop for the last few weeks. every time you think you’re done crying, thoughts of simon make your eyes well back up.

when you’re not working or running errands, you’re home in bed reading simon’s journals or just sleeping the pain away, and ignoring everyone’s calls and texts.

everyone wants to know if you need anything, or if you’re doing okay. you lie to them every single time .

i’m fine.

i’m doing a little better.

lies. all of it is lies. all you want to do is scream no i’m not okay.

the only person who knows how you truly feel is johnny.

“have you gotten out of the bed at all today?” he asks you one day when he comes to visit. he’d let himself in with the spare key you gave him.

“to shower and eat, yes” you reply flatly as you stare at him. he’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom with a frown on his face.

“that’s all?” johnny asks with an expectant look. he’s hoping you were productive today.

you sit up and shoot him a glare. “what else do you expect me to do, mactavish?” it comes out a little snappy, but you don’t care.

“go outside?” you roll your eyes at him and tell him that you went outside yesterday, to which he scoffs and says, “goin’ to work doesn’t count.”

you let out a small snort of laughter, not missing the way johnny’s eyes light up at the sound, before asking him if he was still going to cook dinner like he’d promised over the phone.

“o' course, lass. we cannae have you starving now can we?”

dinner is a quiet affair. you and johnny are both stuck in your own thoughts. the food is good though. and johnny’s not being subtle at all with the way he watches you to make sure you’re eating and not pushing your food around your plate.

“i read the letter,” you say once the silence becomes too much. you see him pause, but he doesn’t say anything. “he said he wants me to be happy, but i don’t think i know what that means anymore. how can i be happy when he’s gone?”

you have to blink back tears when johnny places his hand over yours. he tells you that it might take some time, but you can be happy again.

“he said you would take care of me,” you say later that night as you walk johnny to the door.

let johnny take care of you, lovie.

you’re not sure what he means by that, but when you repeat simon’s words back to johnny, he has a look in his blue eyes that you can’t decipher. you don’t ask him to tell you what it is that he’s thinking. you’re almost too afraid to ask, so you bid him goodnight as he wraps his arms around you to hug you tight, before he tells you that he’ll be seeing you later.

after that night, johnny’s visits start to become more frequent. he tries to stop by the house to see you whenever he gets the chance. he’s been busy lately, so you’re very thankful whenever he shows up on your doorstep. sometimes you two talk. other days, you two don’t talk at all, as you lay on your back, legs spread with johnny’s head between your sticky thighs. no words are exchanged when johnny’s got his cock dragging against your g-spot, or when he’s got a firm grip on your head as he guides himself between your lips.

it’s fucked up, but it’s how you cope.

a/n: i can’t believe my audacity 😵‍💫

#soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyletogazwrites

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shadowqueenjude · 24 days

Text

I wrote a little Rhysta.

@ennawrite @kateprincessofbluewhales

Rhysand woke up with a stinging pain around his neck. He lifted his hand towards the source of the pain, then found something that felt distinctly like a knife digging deeper.

His eyes flew open, and for a wild moment, he thought it was Feyre standing before him. But no. The face that surveyed him had stronger features. Eyes just a little more grey, lips a little more full, brows quite a bit more angular, her gold hair a tumble of waves down either shoulder. A cunning face-calculating. And one that held a knife to his throat.

“Wake up,” she hissed. Rhysand blinked blearily, trying to focus on her. Despite being human, he found her to be prettier than the cursebreaker. He could only imagine how devastating she would be as a faerie.

“What?” Rhysand croaked, not daring to speak too loud else that dagger pierce his skin. How in Prythian had this human girl got a hold of an ash knife? What was with this family?

“I want to know what exactly you’re playing at,” Nesta answered, her simmering glare branding him even in the dark. Rhysand’s heart rate kicked up; was it more or less embarrassing that it wasn’t from fear?

“Nothing. I’m just here to protect Prythian and the human lands from Hybern’s corruption,” Rhysand said mechanically.

Nesta snorted delicately. “Spare me the bullshit. Even if Feyre bought into that molded loaf of bread, I am not so gullible.” She bent closer to him, her tantalizingly soft hair brushing against his cheek. “Or did you use your faerie magic to hoodwink her? For the Feyre I know would not change her loyalties so fast, and last I knew, she was in love with Tamlin.”

Rhysand tried to swallow a couple of times before she gave up. “Tamlin treated her poorly. So she left.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I was mean to her for years and she never wavered in her loyalties. So tell me what you’ve done to her, High Lord.”

Rhysand stared into her silver eyes, the loathing palpable in them at the nearer distance. How should he answer this? The truth? He imagined that wouldn’t go down very well with her. With lies? She didn’t seem the least bit fooled by them.

“Nothing. It was Tamlin who changed her.”

Rhysand didn’t have time to react before Nesta drove the knife into his shoulder. Too much in pain to even scream, all he could manage was a pitiful whimper. God, he had forgotten how much ash stings. He hadn’t encountered such weapons since the war centuries ago.

“You really think you can fool me, Amarantha’s whore?” Nesta demanded.

Rhysand stilled at the nickname. “How did you-?”

“Feyre told me everything that transpired between her arriving in Prythian and when she came back. You were what prompted Tamlin to send her away. A loyal servant of that bitch who tormented Prythian for decades.”

“You don’t understand. It was all an act-“

Nesta twisted the knife in his shoulder, and Rhysand let out another pained moan. Blood was all over his shirt, his skin sticky. “Killing twelve kids isn’t an act, you coward. I already told you I won’t be easily fooled.” Nesta bared her teeth, looking every inch the faerie Feyre could never be despite her super strength and pointed ears. In spite of the blinding pain, Rhysand breathed out a laugh. “Oh, pity you aren’t the Cursebreaker. You’re a lot more fun than the huntress.”

Nesta wrenched the knife out of his shoulder, causing even more pain as she returned the knife to his throat. “And I’m about to be a lot more fun if you don’t tell me what you did to Feyre in the next thirty seconds.”

Gods, she was magnificent. Well, Rhysand could offer a partial truth that would hopefully appease this powerful woman.

“I forced Feyre into a bargain in exchange for healing her under the mountain.”

Oh, the scent of Nesta’s fury was delicious. Rhysand gloried in the smell as he sensed Nesta trembling with rage. “I fucking knew it. You faeries and your bargains. I’m assuming it’s this mark right here?” She dug a sharp nail into his arm, and Rhysand yelped, jerking away, which only caused more blood to ooze from his shoulder wound. “How did you know?”

Nesta shrugged. “I guessed, since Feyre has an identical one on her own arm.”

Cunning, furious, and observant. A crying shame this queen would only live a mortal life. “Get her out of the bargain,” Nesta whispered.

Rhysand chuckled. “Or I could just break into your mind and be done with it.”

“You can try,” Nesta seethed. “But not even a High Lord’s glamour can work on me. Tamlin tried and failed already.”

Rhysand blinked. Nesta…possessed the true Sight? Some mortals were gifted with the ability to resist nearly all kinds of Faerie magic in a way that even most powerful fae have difficulty with. Jurian, of course, was one of them, which was how he’d led the humans to victory all those years ago. Immune to daemati and glamours, this woman could be exceptionally useful.

Rhysand reached for her mind anyway, finding that she was just as immune as she had claimed. The eldest Archeron didn’t mess around, clearly. She possessed walls more fortified than the Cauldron itself. Mother above.

“I warned you,” Nesta snapped. “Break the bargain.”

“And what will I get in exchange?” Rhysand crooned. “Surely you understand I cannot release her without getting something in return.”

“I could just kill you and be done with it,” Nesta mused. Rhysand smirked at her. “True, but think: I am a High Lord, and a major asset in the war against Hybern. Without me, your odds lower significantly.”

“You can be replaced,” Nesta drawled dismissively. “Not me.” Nesta spat on his face. “You faeries are even more arrogant than we were taught to believe.” She smoothed down her nightgown with her free hand. “Take me instead.”

Rhysand blinked. “Really?” That was exactly what he had been hoping for. Nesta would prove to be far more useful than the illiterate one. “On the condition that you will never physically or sexually harm me, nor will you use your magic against me in any way, nor will you allow any of your cronies to do it in your stead.”

Rhysand could not say yes fast enough. “Yes, I promise. It’s a deal.”

Nesta and Rhysand stared at his arm, watching as the tattoo disappeared. They both waited for a new one to appear, and when it didn’t, Nesta began her venom again. “You fucking liar, I will slit your thro-“

She stopped, and Rhysand knew why. He watched as whorls of paint wrapped around Nesta’s forehead like a crown. An identical one must be present on his own.

They surveyed each other for a moment, this new bond that had just formed between them tugging them closer together. At last, Nesta let the knife drop.

“Welcome,” Rhysand murmured, “to the Night Court, Nesta Archeron.”

#rhysand #nesta archeron #rhysta #fanfic

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

Text

Ghost!Robin Part 6

It's Wednesday, you know what that means! After spending so much time writing for Carry Your Heart this week, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get a long enough segment of this completed to share. Especially since I had a busy weekend. But here we are with 1.3k more words!

Time for the explanations to start.

First, Previous

----------

Danny slapped his hand over his face. “Jazz!” he hissed. He looked over, hoping Robin could help him. Only to realize he had rushed over to Alfred to give him a hug. “Great,” he muttered. “Everything is fine!” Danny tried to assure the room as he let his transformation flow over him.

The shouted questions just got louder and Jazz shifted to more completely block Danny from view.

“Jazz!” Danny tried again. “Lower your weapon! They’re safe!”

“Mom and Dad were supposed to be safe, too!”

Danny sighed. Then he ducked under her arm, using a mix of martial arts training from Pandora and intangibility to prevent her from stopping him. Ignoring the Waynes, he turned his back to them to face his sister. Robin could explain things to them if he wanted. “Jazz, it’s okay. They’re in almost as much danger from the Guys in White as I am.” He put his hands over hers and found the button to disarm her staff.

At least one person behind him demanded he explain what he meant by that, but Danny just looked Jazz in the eyes as he removed the staff handle from her hands.

She let him take it an narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean.”

Danny gave her his biggest shit-eating grin. “Congrats on the second dead boyfriend. I like this one much more than the first. Goes well with the dead brother.”

“Second…” Jazz’s voice trailed off as she looked over the people behind him. It was getting harder to ignore their shouted questions and demands for explanations. “Jason was the second Robin.”

“Yep,” agreed Danny. “And something went wrong when he was brought back to life. He ended up split in two and haunted by his own ghost.”

“Why couldn’t I see him? Or sense him?”

“He was that weak. I gave him some of my ectoplasm to strengthen him which is why he’s visible now.”

“Okay. Okay. So, what next?”

“Now I apologize to Jason and petition a founding member of the Justice League for assistance for my people.” Before Jazz could ask the questions she clearly wanted to at the last half of his sentence, Danny turned around and faced the Waynes.

Nearly all of them were facing Danny and Jazz in fighting stances. Damian had gotten a sword from somewhere and looked like he was half a second from rushing them. Bruce’s expression was blank, but his fists were clenched and he was glaring at Danny. Though his eyes kept flicking to Robin who had stopped hugging Alfred and was settled on Barbara’s lap signing to Dick and Alfred. Cass was paying more attention to them than Danny and Jazz.

But Danny didn’t really care about any of them. He sought out Jason who was pressed against the wall staring at Robin with wide eyes, a gun held loosely in his hand. “Jazz, feel free to share anything. Bruce is Batman. I’m gonna talk to your boyfriend for a moment.”

“How did you find that out?” demanded Bruce who moved to block Danny’s way.

At the same time, Jason fell into a defensive stance and held up the gun properly. “Don’t come closer!”

Danny cocked his head and looked at the gun. With barely a thought, he froze the trigger mechanism so it couldn’t shoot while sending out calm, safe, no harm pulses from his core. He trilled a I come in peace for good measure. To Bruce, he said, “Robin told me.” But then he realized there was more than one Robin present. “Not… Damian? The dead one.”

He realized that was an awful way to phrase it even as Jazz hissed his name in reproach. Even Robin facepalmed at his statement.

Bruce barely twitched. “Who are you?” he demanded, voice low and threatening.

“Right, okay, that’s a fair question. So I haven’t lied about who I am. Or much of anything tonight, really. I’m Danny. I was born Danny Fenton until my parents decided they were not okay having a half-dead son and tried to fix me. I escaped and now I respect their wishes by not using their last name. I did die when I was fourteen and became a vigilante in our home town keeping humans safe from ghosts and ghosts safe from humans. I was able to broker a semi-permanent peace on the ghostly side a few years ago and retired from vigilantism. But now I’m basically the liaison between the living realms and the Infinite Realms. Which means I need to talk to your son. So we’ll continue this after I do.”

“I will not allow you near Jason until you explain everything.” Bruce stood even taller and tried to loom over Danny.

“It’s his medical information. I’ll explain what I can to him and he can choose what to share with you. Besides, I’m a ghost. You really can’t stop me.” He strengthened the peace, no harm, calm vibes he was sending out. Bruce was liminal enough he should be able to feel them. “You know I’m telling the truth. You’ve died and there are no secrets among the dead.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Damian lower his sword.

“What are you doing?” demanded Bruce who didn’t relax at all.

“Later,” insisted Danny. This was pointless. He needed to talk to Jason and delaying wasn’t going to help any of them. Turning intangible, he walked around Bruce whose arms went right through him. As did Tim’s follow-up attacks.

“What are you doing?” yelled Tim as he tried to restrain Danny.

“Trying to talk to your brother,” replied Danny. “You should let me do it.” And then he was before Jason.

The calming pulses from his core had calmed his sister’s boyfriend down somewhat. The gun was now pointed at the ground and his hand wasn’t on the trigger anymore. Not that it would’ve fired anyway, but Jason didn’t know that.

“I’m sorry.” He heard Jazz yelling at Tim and Bruce and starting her own explanations and happily let her handle her boyfriend’s family. To Jason, he continued, “I knew Clockwork was hiding something from me about you and Jazz, but I let myself get distracted and put off visiting you. I don’t know everything that happened to you or how or why you’ve been split in two, but I can help. However you want. I promise to explain everything I do know tonight. Once we get somewhere private. Do you want Jazz there, too? I’d recommend it since she’s better at explaining things than me, but it’s your choice.”

“What are you? What is that?” Jason pointed to Robin with a shaking hand.

Danny smiled sadly. “You know who he is. He’s you. Whatever brought you back to life did a fucking awful job of it. Being split in two like this isn’t good for you and I say that from experience. Now, I can keep answering your questions here in full hearing of every single member of your family, or we can wait until later. I promise no more harm will come to you.”

“He’s been there the whole time?”

“He’s been there the whole time,” confirmed Danny. “Waiting a few hours won’t change a single thing.”

Jason nodded once and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and as he did so seemed to stand up taller. When he opened his eyes again, he no longer looked to be on the verge of attack. He even clicked the safety of his gun back on and put it away. “Now, I do have one question,” he said.

“Anything.”

“What was that you meant about me being Jazz’s second dead boyfriend?”

Over his surprised laughter, he heard Jazz’s groan from across the hall. Yeah, he really did like Jason more than Johnny.

---------

Danny is setting himself up to be interrogated by the entire batclan. He has no idea what he's about to face. I wanted to get more into everyone's reactions, but that'll come in the next parts.

Unrelated to this fic, I'm glad you all enjoyed I'll Carry Your Heart! I did feel a little guilty with the comments/tags on part 2 talking about how sweet and fluffy it was only to twist all of that in part 3. It was a lot of fun to write and I can't wait to get back to it.

Tag List

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gyu-effect · 1 year

Text

(tryna do) what lovers do || y.jh (teaser)

PAIRING || Jeonghan x Female Reader

GENRES || Fake Dating AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff, Friends To Lovers AU, Rich Kids AU

SUMMARY || When you had roped Jeonghan into your idea of being a ‘pretend’ couple, you did not expect the lie to grow this big. What was supposed to be a one day thing soon became a rather frequent occurrence. And the gravity of the situation did not really hit you until your parents were requesting an audience with your new ‘boyfriend’. Will the two of you be able to keep your act till then?

Or, in which, you keep promising yourself that this would be the last day you pretend to have feelings for Yoon Jeonghan.

SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age

A/N || If you want to be added in the taglist, send me an ask!

“Oh my god, why am I even here?” You sobbed to yourself, as you frantically turned the pages of the thick textbook, searching desperately for anything that could help you in your project. Despite being in the library for the past four hours, you had managed to write only two pages of your five page essay. You cursed yourself mentally for picking such a difficult topic, in an attempt to be different from others.

“To get your degree and a job that will secure your future?” Seungkwan replied, as though he hadn’t been complaining about his own work a minute ago.

“Thanks. I wasn’t really sure before why I applied for college but now I definitely am.” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you closed your laptop. As the semester was approaching the end, all the project deadlines had clogged up your calendar and you were pathetically struggling to finish everything on time.

“You did not ask yourself this question when you were at the party yesterday.” He reminded you, causing you to open your eyes and glare at him.

“I’ve been to a maximum of five parties throughout this entire semester. How much more do you want me to quit? If I don’t let out my stress in some way or the other I’m going to combust.”

“Lies. You hate these parties and your stress busting mechanism is to go shopping with Kim Yeri.”

You raised your hands in defeat, but still sticking your tongue out at your best friend. Just because he was right didn’t mean you couldn’t complain and whine to him.

“Speaking of parties,” he continued after shutting his laptop and looking at you, “What are you going to do about the one next week?”

You stared at him.

“Next week? What party?”

“Min Seolah’s party? She sent an invitation to you?”

“Ah,” you said, vaguely remembering something in your inbox which you might have deleted out of anger at your pending work. “I just won’t go. Where’s it taking place? Her apartment?”

Now it was Seungkwan’s turn to stare at you.

“You didn’t go through the invitation did you?” He glared at you when you smiled sheepishly at him. “It’s an elite party. And you are expected to have an escort. In more polite terms, a date.”

You felt your smile dip as soon as you heard the word ‘elite’. You absolutely hated these formal parties. More than boring, they were painful beyond words and talking with all the powerful delegates who were usually present always exhausted you mentally.

“Can’t I- can’t we excuse ourselves?”

“Our parents will be there.”

That line hit you like a truck and you finally felt the realisation sink in. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Seungkwan. I-I need to pick a dress! And shoes! And-And an escort! Where the hell am I supposed to get a date?” Even Seungkwan didn’t seem to have an answer for this. You continued your rambling as the panic finally settled in properly. “Oh god. How does one, who had next to zero social interactions outside her friend circle, manage to find a date in less than a week? And how are you so calm about this? Do you want to pretend to be each other’s escorts? Everyone knows there’s nothing between us anyways.”

“Er, about that.” Seungkwan began, awkwardly scratching his neck. “I already have a date.”

For the second time that day, Boo Seungkwan dropped another bomb on you. You closed your mouth that had been hanging open and edged your chair closer to his suspiciously.

“Wait, what? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“It just happened right before I came into the library!” He began, clearly flustered as he was avoiding your gaze and aimlessly flipping the pages of the book in front of him (it was actually your book, a subject he didn’t even have). “Siyeon just- just randomly asked whether I wanted to go with her because she thought I was cool and I was so taken aback, I said yes without even thinking-”

“Is that all it takes to ask you out? Just tell you that you are cool?” You asked, leaning back and grinning at your furiously blushing best friend. You had seen Seungkwan embarrassed (and had sometimes even been the cause of it), but to see him this shy because of some girl from economics seemed worthy to make fun of. In the back of your mind, you made a mental note to tell this to Chan.

“Is that what’s bothering you? Shouldn’t you be worried about your lack of date, instead?”

“Yeah…But I’ve got to finish this assignment before.” You always had your priorities right, and getting a degree was definitely one of them. “And I’m hungry.”

“It’s almost lunch time. Want to grab something from the canteen?” Seungkwan asked, checking his watch. You nodded and both of you packed up your things, walking out into the sunlight after what felt like an eternity.

No sooner had you stepped out of the threshold, you felt a gush of wind from behind you that nearly knocked you over, but Seungkwan wasn’t that lucky. He stumbled onto the ground as that gush of wind (now identified as Soonyoung) grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. Or rather yanked him up.

“Hey! Do you want to die?” Seungkwan yelled, as you blinked and tried to process what had just happened. Then feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips at the sight of Soonyoung nervously apologising to Seungkwan, you gently patted the latter’s back.

“Are you okay?” You asked, his neck visibly red at the sudden tugging of his shirt collar.

“I highly doubt you should be smiling while asking me that?”

“I- okay I’m sorry.” By now you were grinning. “Drink some water, you should be fine. And Soonyoung, why the hell did you try to knock us out?”

“I wasn’t trying to! I just wanted to surprise Seungkwan from behind but I guess I ran a bit too fast.”

“A bit?” Seungkwan was still massaging his neck. “I bet you would have told that excuse to the judges after my head got dislocated from my spine.”

“Anyways, what do you think they are serving us for lunch?” Soonyoung asked, hastily changing the subject.

Before you or Seungkwan could reply, all of a sudden you realised you had left your jacket on the chair in the library. “Uh, guys I’ll catch up with you in the mess? I left my jacket behind.”

“You don’t want us to wait for you?” Seungkwan asked but you shook your head in negative.

“It’s fine. But don’t forget to save me a seat or else I’ll steal all your tiger plushies Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung faked a look of horror, pulling Seungkwan and breaking into a run. This earned an eye roll from Seungkwan as he waved you goodbye. Giggling at their retreating figure you went back inside the library. Thankfully, it was still there and slipping into it you quickly walked out again.

This time when you walked out, you found yourself staring at the couple underneath the willow tree near the library. It was still full of leaves despite it being almost autumn. It was almost cute to see the couple until you remembered your own position; you had to find a date before the week ended.

The sun glared on you and you instinctively took a step back, immediately colliding with someone. The two of you let out an ‘ah!’ as you stumbled back more before you felt the person’s hands on your shoulder, stabilising you.

“I’m so sorry!” You gushed, turning back to look at the person. You found yourself looking up at Yoon Jeonghan’s equally surprised face as he helped you up. “Jeonghan, shit, I’m so sorry. I should have looked.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Are you okay? Don’t walk backwards like that, you might get hurt. Unless, you have Mad-Eye Moody's eyes.” He joked casually and you smiled sheepishly at him.

Jeonghan was a good friend of yours; he was in your close friends circle and you thoroughly enjoyed his presence (as long as you weren’t the one getting pranked). He also happened to be smart and handsome, a plus point which made him a campus heartthrob. As you took in his appearance, you noticed he had grown out his hair a bit. A gentle wind blew against the two of you and his hair ruffled slightly, sunlight catching his face as he grinned at you.

And then, it struck you.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, as you stared at him, your mouth slightly open. “Don’t tell me there’s sauce on my face and Joshua didn’t tell me about it.”

That snapped you back to the present and you shook your head. “Er, no. Um, Jeonghan?”

“Yeah?”

You knew for sure he had been invited to the same upscale party as you, but you had to make sure before asking him.

“You don’t have a significant other, do you? Or maybe a crush?”

Now it was time for him to stare at you.

“Uh…no? Where is this coming from?”

“Then, do you want to date me?”

#╼ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 #╼ 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic

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nobody-for-sure · 2 years

Text

Language Barrier

For those of you who haven't cracked the code yet: as of the last chapter, there’s now two (one for each country’s language). However, as a reminder for everyone, I maintain that the story can still be easily read and enjoyed with only context clues. If you're feeling frustrated trying to crack it, take a break. A fic about a language barrier where you had to know the language would be pretty pointless, wouldn't it?

Chapter 15

(~2.7k words, see chapter list here)

You may have fucked up.

Correction: you definitely fucked up.

The good news is that the teleport waypoints do, in fact, teleport you. Which is cool. Very neat. That means they weren't just a convenient game mechanic for the traveler. Good to know.

The bad news is that you apparently can't control where they teleport you, because when the blinding light fades, you're most definitely NOT in Liyue Harbor.

Fuck, go back. Quickly, you turn to the new waypoint beside you and press your hand against it. "Take me to Wangshu Inn!"

In an unsurprising turn of events... nothing happens. Nevertheless, you keep your hand pressed to the device, waiting. Lag? Is it lag? It took a few moments to activate the first time around, so maybe you just need to be patient.

Minutes pass, and your hand falls to your side. Why is this my life??? In what universe do the teleports only go one way? Are they one-time use? What a rip-off! You consider trying again, asking for a different destination, but you think better of it. It didn't even take you to the right spot in the first place, so you'd better not give it the chance to dump you somewhere worse.

Speaking of... where am I, anyway? You take a long look around. Unfortunately - likely due to the world being bigger than the game - you've been finding in your travels so far that nothing looks exactly the same as you remember it. Nevertheless, you try to stay calm and think things through rationally. (Not doing so has already been your downfall more than you'd like to admit.)

The air is thinner here, and foggy, so you deduce you must be in the mountains somewhere. It makes you thankful you didn't get transported to Dragonspine, at least; you're definitely not dressed for that. You don't think you've left Liyue, either. Not that you would recognize Fontaine or Natlan if you saw them, but the few scattered trees and vegetation seem to fit the bill. Thinking back to the game, you close your eyes in concentration. If I remember correctly, there were some pretty large mountains right next to the harbor. One of them had a waypoint, didn't it? That must be where I am. It's definitely not what you had in mind, but it's also the most logical option you can think of.

You sigh. At least I'm close. Now I just have to figure out a way down. From there, you'll find a way to get a message to your traveling companions.

You give the waypoint a withering glare. Still, could it really not have dropped me anywhere closer? And what's with the indefinite cooldown all of a sudden?? Muttering under your breath, you pick a direction that looks vaguely familiar and start walking. Hopefully, your reception in Liyue will be smoother than it was in Mondstadt... though your misfortunes in the land of freedom were entirely self-inflicted to begin with.

When am I going to stop making life harder for myself?

The mountaintop is hilly, and at first, the fog makes it difficult to see too far ahead. But you're in luck: after several minutes of walking, the fog starts to dissipate, and you can see a cliff edge ahead. Perfect. You can scope out your location and see if you can spot a way down - perhaps there'll even be a nice, gentle slope with a pathway leading straight into the city.

Yeah, right.

But as much as you weren't expecting that to be true, what you see instead comes as even more of a shock.

The sides of the mountain are steep craggy inclines as far as the eye can see, and that's the least of your problems. You're nowhere near the harbor. In fact, you're nowhere near much of anything. Not Qingce, not Mingyun, not even the Chasm, which appears to be the closest thing to civilization in the distance. You know where you are now. The three dreaded trial towers of Tianqiu stand tall across the gorge. No wonder your surroundings seemed vaguely familiar: back when you first pulled Xiao, this was the waypoint you used every day to get to the Primo Geovishap.

But how in Teyvat does 'take me to Liyue Harbor' translate to this?!

...Wait a minute.

You backtrack for a moment. Xiao. I can call Xiao!

You feel much better about summoning the adeptus now that you're actually in need of his assistance, rather than just to say hi. "Xiao!" Despite the situation, you can't quite conceal the tinge of excitement in your voice as you speak the yaksha's name. There's a moment of silence. You hold your breath in anticipation. And then:

"Biat ye, ika! Kundala kucha unu!"

If you had a table, you'd flip it. For the first time, you do recognize the language being spoken. Who would've thought it'd turn out to be a bad thing?

You wheel around to see two club-wielding hilichurls, a geo samachurl, and - by far the most menacing - a rock shieldwall mitachurl almost twice your size. And, in yet another dissimilarity to the fanfics, they do not look happy to see you. Frantically, you think back to your daily commissions with Ella Musk. "Um. Olah?"

The mitachurl charges.

You leap back from the ledge. The last thing you want is to get knocked off and fall to your death. The mitachurl zooms past, missing you by a hair and grunting as it skids to a stop itself, adjusting its shield. The hilichurls are right behind, waving their wooden clubs in a frenzy. They're less formidable, but they have numbers in their favor: when you move to dodge a blow to the head, the other manages to land a heavy hit on your upper arm. You stumble backward a couple steps, cursing. It's not bleeding, but it will definitely leave a nasty bruise. "Xiao!!" Where is he?!

...Oh, wait.

He probably can't understand that I'm calling him, can he?

Fuck.

When you regain your balance, you turn around and make a desperate dash back for the waypoint. The ground rumbles, and rocky spikes shoot up from underneath you (courtesy of the samachurl, no doubt). You skirt around them, and they crumble, but you can hear shouts in hilichurlian behind you. You put on a burst of speed. Soon, the pounding of your heart and the panting of your breath drown out all other sounds.

That's why, when you crest a slight hill, you let out an unholy screech as yet another masked figure appears in your field of vision. Immediately, you swerve the other direction, but you barely move another step before a firm hand clamps down on your shoulder.

"Uwoug. You'll xgovxxo more of them."

You do a double take, and your heart nearly stops in relief. "Xiao," you breathe.

It's hard to tell if it's because of his temperament or not, but the adeptus doesn't seem very happy to see you.

He came to your rescue, there's no doubt about that. Once you realize it's him, you feel safe enough to risk a glance over your shoulder at your enemies. But they're simply... gone. All traces of them have vanished completely, as if the attack existed purely in your imagination.

Obliterated, your mind supplies, in a mixture of fear and awe. You've never been gladder that this is not an imposter au.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, though, your arm is roughly grabbed. "Hey!" you exclaim out of reflex, and the masked face snaps to yours so quickly that you instinctively shut your mouth. It could just be the eerie glow of the eyes, but you somehow get the feeling that he's glaring at you. When you don't say anything further, he makes a derisive noise and turns around. However, as he drags you to a nearby cave, removes his mask, and pins you with a piercing golden stare (that's even scarier than the mask, honestly), it's hard to tell where you stand with him.

"What are you doing?" he asks sharply.

The question roots you to the spot, not because of its content, but because it feels like forever since you've heard an entire coherent sentence from someone. The fact that it's being directed at you angrily by one of your favorite characters is secondary. It takes you a minute to absorb it, because inside your head, you're already celebrating. I was right! Xiao's at level seven! My friendship level theory was right!

The adeptus is not in the mood to wait for your celebration, though. "Vubwro," he says sternly. "Why are you here?"

You blink. "Ah- sorry. Um- by accident?"

He furrows his brow. "By what?"

"...accident...?" When the crease in his brow only grows, you realize he must not be able to understand that word. "Oh. Well, I tried to use one of the waypoints to get to the harbor, but it didn't work. Somehow I ended up here instead."

You expect him to maybe sigh or call you an idiot, but he just shakes his head, expression unchanging. "Not that," he says, sounding irritated. It's a sharp contrast to the way everyone else has spoken to you. "Why are you back?"

The question seems to hold a certain gravity. Your excitement fades. "...Back?"

He gives a single nod. Your chest tightens, and the ominous feeling you've been getting recently returns in flash. "Um... I don't know what you mean," you admit slowly.

"What?" His gaze narrows even further, and he opens his mouth before closing it again. "Xyob here," he says brusquely, before vanishing.

Numbly, you lean against the cave wall, turning the question over in your head. 'Back'? What does he mean? I haven't been here before. ...Moreover, the way he's acting... could it be...? You gulp.

Several minutes pass before there's a flash of pale green light, and the yaksha appears before you again. Before you can say a word, he sinks to one knee and bows his head. "I udykapaso. It's an varal to make your ugroxryoetgo, Your Grace," he says coolly.

You can barely make heads or tails of the fragmented sentence beyond 'Your Grace', but the complete reversal in attitude is enough to leave you gaping. "...What?"

"Which xvos did you not hroxwvuhre, Your Grace?" he says patiently, without raising his head. His tone exudes a strange sense of neutrality devoid of its previous emotion. It's... unnerving, to say the least.

"Wait. No, wait. What? What is this?? Who are you, and what did you do with Xiao?"

"I am Xiao, Your Grace."

"No, no. Where's that other guy I talked to? The one who was mad at me? That was Xiao."

"...That was me." You notice he doesn’t deny the part about being mad.

"...Are you actually a whopperflower?"

"Am I a what?"

"So you are?!"

"No, I am not," he says firmly, and this time you catch a familiar rough edge in his voice. So it is him.

"Then what's with all... this? Why are you so calm and... nice all of a sudden, when you were definitely not happy to see me before? ...Also, stand up."

He does. "It is krylxar to rvugrag yourself with, Your Grace. I was runoxwyq."

You purse your lips. You didn't understand much of that, but your mind is too preoccupied to try and break it down. You're almost scared to hear the answer, but you want... no, you need to know if it's a possibility. "...Did you think I was someone else?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment. Xiao folds his arms and gives you a long, searching look. "No," he says finally. "I could never." His words hold no hint of insincerity or falsehoods.

Your brow furrows in confusion. "Then-"

"I will not be krynousw more on this," he snaps.

You raise your hands in surrender. "Okay." Whatever is behind his sudden change in demeanor, it's obviously a touchy subject, and you would never force him to tell you. You've heard all you needed.

An awkward silence falls over the cave. You have no idea what's going through the yaksha's mind, but for your part, you're trying to piece together everything that's happened since your first encounter.

The way he treats you is undeniably different than the others you've met so far. Is it a Liyue thing, or an adeptus thing, or a Xiao thing? First brash, and now more formal... yet still lacking the unquestioning respect and adoration of Mondstadters. Most baffling is the fact that he claimed to know who you were the entire time. You believe him - but you have no idea what to make of it. Nor were you expecting these sorts of complications right off the bat with the first person you can (almost) properly communicate with.

It's painfully ironic: the first one you can comprehend is the one you understand the least.

You sigh. You don't know how you were expecting your first meeting with Xiao to go, but like every other part of your journey so far, this definitely wasn't it. You can't begin to fathom what sort of relationship the two of you have. It doesn't seem to be a good one. Maybe something's different for characters you've built and travelled with - which would explain why you had a different reception in Mondstadt - but you can't think of what or why it would be. It doesn't seem like he's about to tell you, either.

At the very least, though, no matter what he might be hiding, he didn't hate you enough to leave you at the mercy of the hilichurls earlier. You owe him for that. "Thank you for coming to help me."

He exhales and gives a slight nod before turning to face you fully. "What are you doing in reiuem xwvon?" he asks, more calmly than before.

"In where?"

"...Here."

"Um, that doesn't really- never mind, not important. I think I mentioned this earlier, but I'm not here on purpose...... you look confused."

"I can't hroxwvuhre half of the whvab you say," he responds bluntly, reminding you of your glaring communication problem. "Try using vupsqyw ones."

"...Using what ones?"

"Vuywou," he says, and when you shake your head, "Small."

"Small ones?" Small words? You turn this over in your head for a moment. Breaking it down, you feel like you've actually been able to understand a majority of what he's said, but he's right. Most of the words you recognize are short and fall into very basic English. Alright, then. You can work with that. It's hard to say exactly where friendship levels draw the line, but better Razor language than sorry.

"Okay," you start off, "I did not try to be here." You give him a questioning glance, and he nods for you to continue. "I used a... thing. I tried to go to the-" you pause, debating whether 'harbor' falls into basic English and deciding it probably doesn't- "...place. Not here - place with water and boats." He shakes his head in confusion, and you wave it off. "I tried to go to a place, but the thing took me here. I don't know why." Stupid waypoint.

The adeptus takes a minute to absorb this information. "Which... thing did you use?"

A lightbulb goes off in your brain, and you squat down, tracing your finger in the dirt. "This thing."

He seems to be trying hard to hide his exasperation when he repeats, "Yes. Which thing?"

"Which one?" Does it matter? Well, for all you know, it does. "Uh, the one at Wangshu Inn."

"Try again."

"Um... the one at the hotel? No? Okay... the one at the place, with... the food you like?"

Xiao bristles, and for the first time - if only for a fraction of a second - you get the strong sense you know what he's thinking. If you showed up, he had expected to meet you there. "You were there? When?"

"Just now."

"How?"

You shrug. "I came with people. From-" you sigh- "place."

He mulls this over, narrowing his gaze. "If you didn't try to be here, why did you not go back?"

"Because I can't. That's why I was hoping you could help me," you respond. "The thing here didn't work."

At long last, you've been able to steer the conversation around to the reason you summoned him in the first place. Moreover, the act of conversing itself has been going a lot better now, if you do say so yourself. This is progress. This is good. It's a great feeling, like you're finally making some headway through the chaotic mess you've found yourself in.

And then the yaksha brings you crashing down again.

"Then you can't leave."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin xiao #lbbynfs

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sophierequests · 2 years

Note

hi lovely! i have a fic idea! kaz brekker x reader where the prompt is

"take my hand"

"no"

"look im not trying to ask you to marry me, im trying to save your life"

take my hand and don't let go

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: Found the beginning of this in my drafts and I literally do not remember starting it?? So I decided to scrap some stuff and rewrite this fic, because I actually really love this prompt for Kaz! I intended on making this into a rather light-hearted fic, but my poor writer's brain sees the name Kaz Brekker and immediately switches to angst, so sorry for that </3 It has a fluffy ending though, so don't be afraid. And, of course, thank you for the request, lovely <333

Summary: A job gone wrong forces the reader to do something she had tried to avoid: touching Kaz.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, kinda Fluff???

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Blood, explosion, Kaz Brekker isn't able to express his emotions properly, who could've guessed that?

“They still haven’t given us the signal, Kaz.” You pressed, anxiously watching the man in front of you fidget with his lock-picking tool as he tried to avoid your gaze as best as he could.

At first, the job seemed to be relatively manageable. Inej and Jesper would climb into the warehouse first, surveying the area and notifying you once everything was deemed safe. After that, Kaz and you would pick the lock, steal the blueprints you needed for your next big heist, and leave. It was something you had done countless times before - always getting out successfully - so no one was really worried about it when you went in.

However, the whole situation just didn’t sit right with you. Upon entering the supposedly abandoned building, you were immediately starting to get suspicious of how clean it was. It was far too well taken care of for a warehouse without any real occupants since the previous shareholders had gone ‘bankrupt’. And even though all of that definitely rubbed you the wrong way, Kaz proceeded to make his way through the dingy hallways in the direction of the vault. You didn’t even try to get him to reconsider, he wouldn’t have listened anyway.

By now, the two others should have already cleared the entirety of the premise, causing Kaz to become a bit restless. His fingers were itching to finally get all of this over with. The blueprints were crucial for his next plan, so you fully understood why he needed this mission to work. But it genuinely unnerved you that he was ready to throw caution to the wind just because your friends diverted from the original plan.

“What are you doing?” He leaned down just enough to access the lock without putting too much pressure on his bad leg. The weather had been terribly frigid over the last few weeks, and it was taking a toll on his agility. It pained you to watch him put himself through this without being able to offer him help, but you knew that he would be too stubborn to actually accept it.

“What does it look like? Interpretive dance?” He sneered, removing his leather gloves before getting to work. His alabaster hands clashed with the rich black colour of his coat, making them look almost translucent. You watched him as he reached for the tool, pausing briefly to prepare his mind for the coldness of the metal. With a huffed breath, he brought it up to the lock, cautiously manoeuvring the tip around inside the mechanism. You didn’t know why he had such a severe aversion to touch - one where he couldn’t even bear to be touched by cold materials or objects - but you were well aware that it had to have been something pretty traumatic for him to react this way, meaning that you wouldn’t pry.

“Inej and Jesper haven’t told us that everything is clear, you can’t just ignore your own orders!” You hissed, giving him an exasperated glare that could have just as well been a carbon copy of his own, whenever he had to deal with Jesper’s antics.

“My orders are the only orders I can disregard without a guilty conscience.”

“Oh please, you and having a guilty conscience? I thought you weren’t one for fairytal-” The sentence was harshly cut off by yells echoing from the corridor adjacent to the one you were in. You turned your head, whilst Kaz was still focused on picking the lock.

“Kaz! Y/N! Don’t!” Jesper yelled as he finally appeared in your line of sight. When he saw the situation you were in, his already frantic eyes grew even wider, a look of horror spreading all over his face.

“Jesper, what is-”

“Explosives!” The words didn’t even fully leave his mouth as the distinct click of the lock forced your eyes back towards Kaz. He only had time to shout for both of you to run before a deafening bang sounded from behind the door. Only Jesper was still able to follow his command. You were still wrapping your head around the situation when a sharp blow lifted you off your feet with brutal force.

Your body hit the concrete ground with a firm thud, rendering you unable to move for a few moments after the impact. Everything around you was spinning, and you felt as if you had just lost the majority of your ability to hear, but staying on the ground wasn’t an option. The distinct metallic smell of an explosive-induced fire travelled through the dust-filled air, as you forced yourself to sit up. You could barely make out the silhouettes and shapes of the objects around you as you watched the fire crawl out of the room. If you didn’t leave now, you would be the next thing to succumb to its wrath.

Kaz.

The thought shot into your mind like the top of an arrow hitting a bullseye. Your distorted sight and slight dizziness limited your ability to spot him greatly, but you wouldn’t leave him here to die.

A violent cough caught your attention, and you saw the hunched-over form of Kaz futilely trying to sit up. Since he had been so close to the epicentre of the explosion, the sheer power of the blow had thrown him right against the rough wall opposite the door. You could recognize scratches and bruises all over his face as his eyes hectically peered through the rubble around him.

“Kaz!” You called out, wobbly dashing towards him. His head snapped around to face you, an emotion akin to relief flashing over his features. He tried to push himself up, at least to get into a sitting position, but his whole body ached as he attempted to do so. It was only then that both of you noticed the torn-up fabric of his trousers revealing a deep gash on the side of his leg. His good leg. “This looks bad.”

“Go.” He let out a laboured breath, as he let his back rest against the wall.

“And leave you here to die? We both know I won’t do that.” You thankfully managed to spot his cane, bringing it over to him as quickly as you could. Kneeling down next to him, you tried to assess the damage with weary eyes.

“Y/N, that wasn’t a request. Go.” The harsh tone of his voice didn’t faze you anymore. He might be a stubborn bastard, but even he didn’t deserve to meet his end in a filthy burning warehouse.

“If you think that I’ll start listening to you know, you are greatly mistaken.”

“I won’t be able to walk.” He hissed in pain as he finally managed to sit up properly. If it had been anyone else but Kaz Brekker, you wouldn’t even have thought twice about pulling him to his feet and dragging him outside. But you couldn’t do that to him.

“Take my hand.” You hoisted yourself up to your feet again, stretching out your hand for him to take. This was risky, however, you needed to do something.

“No.” His lips were pressed into a thin line as he looked up at you, apprehension written all over his face.

“Kaz, for Saints’ sake! Look, I’m not trying to ask you to marry me, I’m trying to save your life!” This attempt at humour wasn’t much appreciated.

“I can’t.” His gaze wandered to his hands. His bare hands. He didn’t have his gloves. Shit, this only managed to get worse. You really didn’t want to do this.

“Listen, I can’t - and won’t - force you to do anything.” Your previously demanding voice grew a bit softer as you gave him one last chance. “I know that this is going to be really uncomfortable for you, but we have to leave. I’ll do whatever you tell me if that means that you’ll agree to let me help you.”

“Okay.” You watched the way his hand shook as he reached for yours. With a surprisingly tight grip, he held onto it, allowing you to pull him to his feet.

Immediately upon standing up, an intense pang of pain shot through his legs and he began to stumble forward, his body threatening to give in again. Your mind went into overdrive as you lunged forward, hastily putting an arm under his shoulder and letting him cling to yours.

His heart began to race when he realized the situation he was in. His bare hands had been on your bare hands and now there were only two layers of clothes separating your skin. You were close. Way too close for him to function properly. The rising waters mixed with the stinging ache rushing through his legs made him want to vomit.

“Kaz.” Your voice pulled him out of his stupor briefly, giving him enough distraction to keep him from pushing you away and having a panic attack right then and there. “We need to move. Please, tell me what to do.”

“Keep talking.” He shifted his weight to partially lean on his cane, reducing the pressure he had put on you. “Distract me.”

The cracking of the fire behind you made the urgency you felt prior to this return. You managed to give him a brief nod before carefully beginning to inch forward. One of your arms supported his back, while the other rested on his chest to keep him from falling forward. From where your hand was situated, you could basically feel his heart thud against his ribcage, his rapid breathing only underlining the panic brewing inside him.

“Do you remember that one week two months ago? When all of your heist plans went missing and you never figured out who took them, even after they returned the week after?” You had to distract him. You had to keep talking.

“Yes?”

“I hid them.” It was a stupid thing to bring up. It didn’t have any correlation to what was happening right now, but it seemed to get him to focus on something else than the current situation.

“What?” The words almost came out as a chuckle, but you weren’t sure whether that was because he genuinely found it entertaining, or because the absurdity of the situation beat him to it.

“You were ill. You had a fever.” Kaz almost froze when he heard that. It was true. He had been ill that week - probably one of the worst fevers he had since the plague. But he never told anyone. He even made sure to lock his window to stop Inej from suddenly appearing. Initially, he had intended to retreat into his office, and just continue to work on some upcoming heist plans. However, one day after breakfast, all of the plans were gone, and no one seemed to know a thing. Not even a thorough search through the Slat made them reappear. Eventually, he just decided to give you the week off for ‘recreational activities after an especially tiring heist’. Lo and behold, after his fever had set again, the plans returned to his desk again - neatly stacked and sorted. “I hid them so you could rest. I knew what you were trying to do, and I didn’t want you to overwork yourself just to keep anyone from being made aware that you can get sick too.”

Ask her why.

The questions bubbled inside his head. Why would you go out of your way to force him to rest? Why did you even care about his well-being enough to do something like that?

“Why?” He rasped out, becoming even more aware of the way his heart raged against its restraints.

“I suppose for the same reason why I’m not letting you stay here and die.” That statement was a bit too honest for your liking, and Kaz seemed to have picked up on it. However, before he could press the matter further, a sudden wave of nausea and vertigo overcame him. The waves had ultimately managed to pull him under.

And without being able to take another step, his legs buckled, the world around him fading into black. The only thing you could do was to hold onto him as he fell, only scarcely breaking the fall before his limp body hit the ground. He had fainted.

The next time he woke up he wasn’t in the warehouse anymore. He was at the Slat. In his own room. In his own bed. It seemed to be late - the darkness engulfing him was a pretty strong base for that thesis. The only source of light that had even allowed him to recognize where he was, came from somewhere beside him. He didn’t bother to look where it was coming from, nor did he have the energy to turn his head.

Every still-intact muscle screamed at him, but he felt a strong urge to sit up. His efforts were futile though. A hand quickly hovered above his chest, not touching him, but present enough to get him to abandon his task.

“Don’t.” Kaz could feel his entire body relax when he heard your voice. He had half-heartedly expected it to be Nina, or maybe even Jesper, there to scold him for being so foolish. Having you here was way preferable. “Don’t try to sit up. You need to rest. And if Nina sees that I allowed you to sit up, she’ll probably stop my heart. Or yours. Or both of our hearts if she’s feeling especially murderous.”

His head fell back on his pillow, angling it a little to the side to take a better look at you and also finding the lamp that just barely illuminated the corner of his room. You sat right next to his bed, some novel resting idly in your lap as you gave him a comforting smile. And even though he still felt as if he had been run over by a carriage going full speed, he couldn’t help the ghost of a smirk rush over his lips.

“What happened?” The question had been burning holes in his head since the bomb went off. He had a rough idea, but the details were rather blurry.

“It was a trap. Dime Lions. They paid our informant to lure us right into their trap. Apparently, Inej found a stack of letters in the not-so-abandoned office, but Jesper was too late to tell us.” You recited what they told you after dragging Kaz back to the Slat. You didn’t remember every single detail, but this amount of information would suffice for now.

“I should have waited.” Kaz groaned, regret flooding his mind as he remembered the events of the day prior. Had he only waited a little while longer…

“Hey,” You reached forward, resting your hand just mere inches away from his. “You couldn’t have known. We all made it out alive, so you have nothing to blame yourself for.”

“That doesn’t rectif-”

“Kaz.” He only sighed in response to your warning glare.

“Fine.”

“I think I should go down and tell Nina that you’re awake. She wanted to take another look at your leg once you’re conscious again.” You were just about to stand up when Kaz seized the hand close to his. His touch was featherlight, - not at all comparable to the tight grip he had on it a day earlier - but it was still there.

“I knew that it was you.” He croaked out, his eyes fixed on yours as if you were about to vanish once he averted them.

“That I was what?” You replied perplexed, your brain still trying to process the fact that he was willingly touching you right now.

“That you were the person who stole the heist plans. I didn’t know your reasoning, but I knew that it was you.”

“You knew? Why didn’t you say anything? If it had been Jesper, you would’ve ripped him to shreds?”

A pause.

He knew exactly why he didn’t confront you about it. He just couldn’t tell you. At least not yet.

“I suppose for the same reason I wanted you to leave the warehouse without me.” His hand gave yours a brief squeeze before eventually letting go. Even though he didn’t say it out loud, the knowing smile that began to settle on your face told him that you knew.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

#kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows

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brimbrimbrimbrim · 1 year

Note

i really miss your eddie fics ))):

You’re both laying perpendicular across Eddie’s musky, unmade bed, legs hanging off the edge at the knees, passing a joint back and forth with a coffee can ashtray nestled at your hip. Eddie’s curls are a damp tangle around his head after his midnight shower, tickling your bare shoulder in a chilly itch heightened by the fuzzy sensitivity of the weed. It’s a chill Saturday night, not too different from all the rest, except tonight, you got stood up by your date and elected to hit Eddie’s place earlier than intended, bereft of a good dicking (or any dicking).

And as usual, with the weed mixing messily with pent-up hormones, you both end up complaining about your sex lives. You didn’t have much of one, and Eddie… Well… He never got further than one-night stands.

“I dunno…” you muse over his last comment, “I feel like it’s common knowledge that every dude regularly gets morning wood. You’re not special.”

“Other dudes don’t get them like this,” he complains, taking a hit off the joint before talking through the lungful, “I swear to Christ, I could bludgeon an ogre with. One roll and BAM! Crit hit.”

“Okaaaay, so they’re big beefy boners. So what?”

Eddie releases a bullish exhale of smoke, snorting quietly, “So what is that my hand just doesn’t cut it. I need some succubus to suck me off before I wake up, or… uh, scratch that, you don’t wanna hear about this shit. Sorry…”

You shrug, elbow knocking his own, “No, it’s cool. Makes sense you’d fantasize about getting woken up with a blowjob. I wouldn’t mind the same most morning… of course, by that, I mean a dude eating me out and not sucking my dick since… ya know, I don’t have one of those.”

“I’m well aware of that, baby. I’ve shared a bed with you hundreds of times.”

“Not hundreds…” you mutter, “and what does that even prove?”

Eddie breaks out in a cheshire grin. “Cause if you had a dick, I’d have felt it already. You cuddle when you're stoned, and the shit you say in your sleep? Fuck, you’re a total deviant.”

You don’t deny the deviancy part but give his profile a glare; his face is still cracked in a big smile, eyes closed as he sneaks in another hit before blindly wiggling the half-smoked joint for you to grab. He’s disgustingly pretty at this angle, with pink puffy lips, a kissable nose, and heavy lashes teasing his flushed cheeks. Shame he’s not into you, ‘cause you’d straddle him in a heartbeat rather than waste anymore effort on Hawkins’ bachelors. There may have been a decent supply of single men around town, but none of them were like Eddie—none of them liked the same music you did, appreciated your weird art, or could quote-converse Tolkein with you as he could.

Frowning, you take the joint Eddie waves in your direction and suck in a lungful of earthy skunk, “So, hang on… you’re saying I’ve been a perv in my sleep, and you never said anything?”

“I’m a gentleman.”

You scoff, “Yeah, tell that to the boners I’ve had to bat away while you’ve been dreaming of… what, cheerleaders? No, I bet money on Madeline Kahn.”

“I haven’t had a wet dream about cheerleaders since middle school, and who doesn’t find Miss Scarlet hot? Calm your tits, princess—and I woulda known if you were swatting at my dick. Liar.”

You shrug, ignoring his snicker at your lack of any witty retort. The smug bastard probably would wake up the second a feather ghosted over his dick, given how fast he came when he popped his cherry a year ago. Eddie really screwed up confessing that one ‘cause you quickly buried down the heartache by calling him a two-pump chump for a whole month afterward.

“Man,” Eddie sighs dramatically, “waking up with lips around my dick sounds like heaven.”

“No, shit. That’s what I’ve been saying all night! Where have you been?”

“High. But seriously, men are horn dogs; that is common knowledge. It’s just like… I dunno; the mechanics are different than waking your girlfriend up with head, or a good dick down. It’s way easier to sneak attack a dick than some girl’s pussy.”

“Pff,” you blow out a burning hit and roll over on your side, facing Eddie’s curl-smothered profile. He’s staring up at the ceiling now, looking stoned and relaxed, something that brings you all the happiness in the world after the better part of the year bringing so much chaos and stress. “So you’re telling me if your girlfriend wanted it, you wouldn’t give her a down-low kiss good morning.”

His devious grin is absolutely infectious.

“Oh, I’d do more than that…”

“Hot,” you deadpan, taking a second hit since he snuck two in on his pass, then rest your hand on his chest, joint perched between thumb and forefinger.

Eddie pushes his chin to his chest, brows raised, and takes the splif, hitting it with a fizzle of burning paper. His gaze drifts to you when he exhales the smoke, glassy chocolates gleaming with affection. “You're crashing here tonight, right?”

“If you’ll have me,” you whisper, eyes fluttering sleepily in a way that have you missing the blush that stains Eddie’s cheeks at your words. “I’m waaay too high to drive home.”

“You live next door, dumbass,” it’s said with a smile that makes you snuggle up until your nose touches his arm.

“Must have forgotten how to walk then,” you laugh, then sit up on an elbow, looking down at Eddie’s dopey expression. “Hey, you got something clean for me to sleep in? I don’t wanna wear this stupid dress to bed.”

His eyes rake down the tight, leather-buckled dress like he’s seeing it for the first time. It doesn’t escape your notice the way his gaze lingers on the hem digging into your upper thighs, then the dip where it shows off a light swell of cleavage, but… he’s a man, and men are horn dogs like he said.

“Why?” Eddie asks, genuinely confused, “Afraid it’s gonna ride up in the night, and you’ll wake up with your best friend’s boner in your ass?”

“… no?” Though you wouldn’t mind in the slightest. “But it’s sorta tight and… ugh—“ you toss yourself on your back with a bounce, groaning into the hazy bedroom, “—can you believe I got stood up after putting on makeup AND this dress?”

You turn your head and huff indignantly. “All this effort for no beef. I swear my luck is total dog shit.”

“Well,” Eddie shrugs, “it’s his loss.”

He smiles, rolling to face you. “I’m the one with a hot babe in his bed, not what’s his name.” Eddie wags his brows, earning him a jab in the shoulder that he takes like a total bitch, rolling over melodramatically until his back hits the headboard, clutching his shoulder with a hammy grimace of pain that’s too fucking cute. Stop being so cute, Munson!

“Quit being a chode and get this hot babe something to wear or she’s dragging her fine ass home,” you threaten, then add with your limp hand poised over your forehead, “through the cold!—and rain!—and five feet of snow or whatever! If I get the sniffles, you know I’ll kill you.”

“I’m too cozy,” Eddie hugs himself in his nook against the headboard, mimicking your earlier pout, “Just grab whatever’s in the laundry basket.”

“I’m not wearing your dirty clothes, Munson.”

“They’re clean. Relatively,” he adds, “just didn’t wanna fold clothes on a Saturday.”

“More like ever. But, whatever. Fine.” You wiggle off the bed, absentmindedly tugging the hem of your dress back down the exposed curve of your ass cheeks, totally oblivious to your best bud Eddie nearly biting clean through his tongue to hold down a groan at the sight. Not like he hasn’t seen you in a bikini or your panties a few times. Plus, the two of you had a bad habit in senior year (all three of his) of letting your laundry pile up until you were hanging wet clothes in your last pair of underwear behind his trailer. So, yeah… you don’t think about whether the dress or its relative shortness has given him a boner or not.

It totally has…

“Oooh, found the best one!” You triumphantly hold up his Hellfire shirt, turning around to find him gripping a pillow in his lap, glaring at you beneath his frizzy bangs. When his eyes shift to the shirt in your hands, he does a double take and blushes. Weird.

“Can you crank up the heat, Dungeon Master?” You snicker, wiggling his infamous shirt for emphasis before fishing for some clean boxers only to find none. Panties it is then, you shrug, waltzing out of his bedroom without a single thought to the human tomato white-knuckling his pillow on the bed.

You and Eddie have always been close, almost obnoxiously so, in a way that was meant to make everyone else around you hem and haw. This wasn’t any different from your usual, but Eddie gulps once you peace out of the room to the bathroom, wondering how the fuck he’s gonna sleep without duct-taping his dick to his stomach…

You’re rubbing lipstick off when the rattle of the heater kicks on, making more than warmth rise up from the floor grate, kissing your ankle and your heart. It’s the little things someone does that always hit the hardest, you think.

After getting most of the cherry stain off, leaving your lips raw, you yell ‘thank you’ through the wood panel door, smiling when Eddie hisses like Gollum on his way back to the bedroom. Dork.

His Hellfire shirt sits on your upper thighs, just below your ass, the same as the dress had, except it’s not pinching your ribs or tits. The well-worn fabric smells like him… with the barest hint of detergent, but mostly him. Honestly, whether he actually washed it or not is up for debate, but it still smells good… like really good—good enough that your pussy pulses.

You take a moment to lift it off your soft tits and give it a whiff. The aroma of weed, old spice aftershave, and fresh linen makes you wet, panties going damp. For a moment, you pretend to be wearing his shirt under a different, more sexy scenario just to feel your heartbeat kick up in your clit. It’s always been wild how horny Eddie makes you… but alas, you talk a good game but are a coward at heart. It would take a single honest question to figure out what he feels for you, but the idea terrifies you like nothing else.

After readjusting your panties and Eddie’s shirt, you decide to save the eye makeup scrubbing for the morning. Not like your best buddy hasn’t seen you with raccoon eyes a few times, or the rare teary-eyed mascara streaks.

Back in the musky bedroom, Eddie is already in bed, arms behind his head, one leg propped up under the covers… and he’s fucking whistling like the epitome of cartoon innocence. Seriously, Jerry Mouse was more saint-like than Eddie looked right now…

“What did you do?”

Eddie’s eyes twitch but doth move from whatever stain on the ceiling has his attention, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never done a wrong thing in my life.”

You exhale a sleepy laugh and dive into his cramped bed, immediately digging beneath the covers. Eddie makes a sound—a low whine—and snatches his half of the covers before they can slide off his waist. It’s toasty warm now, thanks to the rattling heater, but you figure he’s still acclimating like a weirdo. Sometimes the dude runs way too hot, while other times, it’s like his body goes into dormancy, and he’ll try to suck up as much heat as possible, even if it means jamming his icy toes behind your knees. Thankfully, it seems he’s just being greedy about the blanket this time, so you relent and throw yourself on your back, trying to find the gestaltism in the water stain above the bed.

Eventually, Eddie drops his knee and deflates, hands on his chest, fingers tapping a tune into his ratty Megadeth shirt.

“So…” he hollows out the word, “… you gonna give Brandon another shot?”

“Huh?” You turn your head, finding Eddie still gazing up at the ceiling. Is he serious? “Umm… fuck no. I have some standards. Besides, I’m not hurting that bad for dick.”

“... no?”

“Well, it’s been a… while, but—anyway, my hand works just fine for now,” you blush a bit, still feeling that throb between your legs, which only gets worse when you realize Eddie is literally right next to you, in bed… while you’re in your panties and his shirt and nothing else, “... anyway, I’d sooner have you drive me to Fort Wayne for a vibrator. They have a sex shop there, right?”

“Pretty sure they got one on the thirty before Columbia,” Eddie says, the words coming out a little high despite him being… well, high. Despite the giddy pulse of arousal still wetting your panties, you're far too tired to wonder what his deal is.

“Well, whatever…” you yawn and cuddle into one of two lumpy pillows laden with Eddie’s aromatic shampoo and sweat, “as long as I’ve got you, some weed, and my health, I’m fine.”

“Me?” He gulps.

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes closed, nosing his pillow, “Yeah, you, ya freak.”

Eddie doesn't say a word, which is sorta weird cause he never shuts up, but you're warm, stoned, and happy, which are things almost impossible not to feel with your very best friend in the whole wide world. Regardless of how bad you wanna fuck him, this is the best; just cuddling up with the soft bandana high surrounding you, absorbing all the faint and strong smells stuck in Eddie’s bed… wrapped in his shirt.

“Now,” you sigh, smiling, “if only you were into me, then I’d be set.”

The metalhead beside you clutches his shirt in your hazy view, chest coming to a halt as you murmur, “I’d have you, dick, weed… and like, all the hit points,” another yawn, “… might even improve my questionable mental health too.”

“Jesus Christ, it’s warm in here.” You kick the blanket down your shoulders, letting in a little more air, and sigh into sleep. “Don’t worry; you don’t have to crush my dreams, m’just gonna… pass out… night, Eddie.”

(I tease...)

#ask #anon #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson best friend #fanfic #WIP #work in progress #it's like half way done?

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luxexhomines · 4 months

Note

Welcome back!!! It’s great to see you again, I hope you’ve been doing well 💕 Could I request a Kokichi/Reader (romantic) for the dialogue prompt “You're so persistent”? Either fluff or silly, whichever you prefer! Thanks and have fun!!

Thank you so much for the heart-warming welcome back and for the request!! I'm happy to see you again too, and I hope you've been doing well, too, ehe~ ♡ ♡

I took a little while to think about this prompt and to reacquaint myself with Kokichi as a character, ahaha. I realized then that I...don't even know how to write Kokichi, even though I love him so much?! But nevertheless, I tried to write something fun. Honestly, it feels kind of awkward/mechanical, but maybe it can't be helped because it's been so long since I last wrote for Kokichi?

Anyway, here we go! It's almost 3k words (oops) so there's a cut. Icon credit to dreamcrush!

“You’re so persistent.” Kokichi x Ultimate! Celebrity Reader

“You’re so persistent.” You slammed the metal locker door close and glared at Kokichi. “And annoying.”

Kokichi simply shrugged with that same shit-eating grin on his face that he always had.

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with the annoying me if you’d just say yes,” he says in that sing-songy voice.

You resist the urge to box his ears and instead turn away, speed-walking toward the classroom. To your dismay, he quickly follows behind you, matching your pace easily and practically skipping. You supposed someone like him burned a lot of energy annoying people and pulling tricks everyday, so this was probably nothing to him.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being rejected?” you glanced at him, genuinely curious.

“Nope!” He folds his arms behind his head leisurely and grins at you. “But I bet you’re getting tired of rejecting me, huh? You really want to say yes, don’t you? Huh?”

“I’m not even going to answer that,” you sighed.

Kokichi made a face of shock, mouth and deep purple eyes wide in a way that could only be described as overexaggerated and purely for dramatic effect.

“But you just did!”

You suppressed an exasperated sigh and looked away from Kokichi, who was strolling next to you without a care in the world. He’d even started to whistle some annoying little tune that sounded suspiciously like the tune that had recently gone viral for being one of the worst earworms ever.

Kokichi had been asking for your autograph for the past month since the fall semester of Hope’s Peak Academy had formally started and the two of you had met in-class for the first time.

“Ultimate Celebrity, huh?!” he’d exclaimed, eyes comically wide and sparkly. “Does that mean you get to be an Ultimate for just existing? Do you even have to do anything? How is that even a talent, huh?”

Kaede interjected with her hands on her hips.

“Hey, don’t make fun! You know, they’re an Ultimate for a reason,” she huffed. “Look at that face! That style! The stuff that they use gets sold out within minutes, and the places they go get so popular they only take reservations for months after!”

To be fair, you tried to stop Kaede. Tried and failed.

“It’s okay, Kaede-” you put a hand on her shoulder gently, only for her to not even notice.

“Do you even know how much one of their autographs goes for? It can go for a million yen!” she burst.

It was then that a chill ran down your spine as you watched Kokichi’s face flash from that of a naive and playful prankster to a calculative one worthy of being called the Ultimate Supreme Leader–whatever that bogus-sounding talent was. Actually, how dare he question your talent when he had a suspicious talent like that?

“Oho, is that so?” he smiled and tapped a finger to his lips, seemingly in thought. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but you did know that whatever it was, you didn’t like it at all.

You gave the door to the classroom a furtive look.

“Okay, well, if that’s all, I’m going to go to the bathroom now- Eek!”

Kokichi had made his way to the door before you and was somehow effectively blocking your exit route with both palms pressed on either side of the door frame, even with his slight frame. Not only that, but he was currently making one of the most horrifying faces you’d ever seen on anyone, and you’d seen a lot of terrible things in the entertainment industry.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he smirked. Whatever that black pit of a face was, his eyes were two black holes in that pit. And, his mouth was stretched unnaturally wide in what could only be called an evil smile. “Hand it over.” He held out a hand, and you stared at his empty hand, simply appalled.

You’d faced plenty of terrors and challenges as the Ultimate Celebrity, from surprise paparazzis at night to stalker-fans trying to break into your apartment, but you had to say that this was your first time being extorted for an autograph–not even asked, but threatened.

You crossed your arms and gave him a dirty look.

“No. Now step aside.”

You couldn’t imagine that he’d keep blocking the doorway forever, especially since from the corner of your eye, you could see Kaito walking toward the classroom from the hallway.

He slinked to the side surprisingly easily, making a disappointed puppy-dog face.

“Aww, you’re no fun. It’s just an autograph, you know?”

You slid past him and made a beeline to the bathroom, which he thankfully did not follow you to–but you did feel his eyes on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. You’d think you’d have gotten used to being watched, being the Ultimate Celebrity, but somehow, this felt different.

Fast-forward to today, about a month into the semester, and he hadn’t failed to pester you for an autograph every single day, although he luckily spent some of his time playing with (irritating?) your other classmates, too.

“Keeboi, robots don’t have nipples, do they?” Some clanking noises came from the other side of the classroom, which you desperately hoped wasn’t Kokichi touching Kiibo.

“This is harassment! I must ask that you cease and desist at once–no, seriously, stop, Kokichi!”

You winced but opted to remain a bystander. Getting involved ultimately meant offering yourself as the sacrificial target for Kokichi’s tricks and attention. ‘Sorry, Kiibo,’ you thought sympathetically.

But unfortunately for you, Kokichi must have quickly gotten bored with Kiibo, because not even ten minutes later, he was at your side again. To be exact, he was sitting across from you at the desk in front of yours, hands holding onto the backrest of the chair.

“Come on, just one little autograph,” he begged with those big, gleaming eyes. Man, since when did being an Ultimate Supreme Leader involve having incredible acting abilities? Because otherwise, how could he look so pitiful and sad? Like a cat left in the pouring rain, sitting in a rotting cardboard box, waiting for a kind owner–

You averted your eyes. It would be fine if you didn’t look at him, you desperately thought to yourself.

“I’m not giving an autograph to any classmates,” you state. “We’re all Ultimates and more or less equal, so I’m not going to give a fellow Ultimate an autograph. Plus, you think I don’t know you’re just going to go and auction it off?” You turned and stared him down with the last sentence.

“Nishishi, you got me there!” he laughed, but he didn’t seem surprised or offended. “Why don’t you do your classmate a little favor, then? You gave one to Nagito!”

You huffed and pursed your lips.

“I said no, Kokichi! And it’s different if it’s a fan,” you argued. “Nagito was already a fan because he loves Ultimates. Plus, he’s our upperclassman!”

Kokichi put a hand to his chin in thought.

“So it’s different if it’s a fan, huh? Okay, got it! I’ll be your fan, so give me an autograph!” he cheers.

“No, Kokichi! Were you even listening to me?”

He didn’t reply immediately for once, just watched you in an unsettling way. He even started twirling a strand of hair around his finger as he looked at you, and you started to feel self-conscious. You thought you’d gotten used to being watched, but yet again, it felt different coming from him.

“Hmm, I guess I wasn’t… Well, if you won’t give me your autograph, then I want something else!”

“What is it, now?”

You sighed and rested your cheek on your hand, propping your elbow up on the desk and preparing yourself for whatever other ridiculous demand he’d come out with next.

“Give me your heart!”

You almost fall out of your chair and scramble to hold onto the desk for dear life before incredulously staring at him. You could feel your face heating up, but you were sure it was just because he’d said something so unbelievably absurd.

“What did you say?”

“I said, give me your heart,” Kokichi enunciated with a smile. “Do you need hearing aids? How come you didn’t hear it the first time?” His eyes reflected obsequious concern, and you frowned.

“I heard you the first time! I just thought I heard wrong because you said something so– so weird. You know, your habit of lying and playing around with other people is going to get you in serious trouble someday.”

Kokichi held up a hand and started examining his nails, shrugging.

“I was being serious, though? This time, at least.”

You stared at him, unable to discern his true intentions or motives.

“Kokichi, I–you’re just pulling my leg, right? Because if so, it’s not funny…” you trailed off, not sure what to even make of the current situation. On the off chance that he was being serious, you didn’t want to be dismissive, but after the past month of being teased and watching him trick and lie to other people like it was nothing, you couldn’t just take his words at face value. Especially when he said it so offhandedly.

Kokichi clenched his fists and pouted, puffing up his pale cheeks.

“Hey, don’t make me repeat myself! I tell the truth once in a while, you know! Don’t tell me you don’t believe me after I told you I was telling the truth already!”

You blinked slowly, feeling your cheeks reddening.

“Uh, then… What do you even mean by, ‘give me your heart?’ You want to date?”

“No, silly,” he stuck his tongue out at you and rolled his eyes. “I want you to fall in love with me, duh! Come on, are you really so boring that you can’t even understand a figure of speech?”

“I just didn’t expect it from you,” you quietly muttered.

How did you feel about him, anyway? The past month suddenly felt like a blur–what had you even done the past month? You couldn’t quite remember, but whatever it was, it definitely felt like it was all memories filled with Kokichi’s presence, as infuriating as he could be sometimes.

Then again, you knew he never truly meant any harm, and overall, you considered him–a classmate? No, that felt wrong after all the time you’d spent together for such a short span of a month.

A friend. That felt so much more right, suited your relationships so much better.

You paused.

“Wait a minute! You never even said that you liked me or anything. You just told me to fall in love with you!” you said, affronted by the realization.

“Oops, you got me!” Kokichi snickered. “Well, if you insist, though I’m sure you get plenty of proclamations of love everyday as the Ultimate Celebrity.”

He pulled out a flower from behind his back and thrusted it toward you with a big, innocent smile on his face. “I like you!”

You facepalmed but plucked the flower from his hand begrudgingly.

“Somehow, that felt so disingenuous,” you complained. “Like it was just an afterthought. And you wondered why I didn’t believe you.”

Kokichi poked your cheek, which had puffed a little without you even realizing.

“Hey, don’t be so pessimistic after I told you I liked you! How can you have so many complaints about the Ultimate Supreme Leader liking you, huh? It should be your honor! A snap of my fingers, and I can have my thousands of underlings kneeling before you in seconds,” he boasted.

You gave him a look–you could just about see his nose growing longer for every lie coming out of his mouth.

“I doubt you have thousands of underlings,” you sighed. “Plus, this was so anticlimactic. I’m still pretty sure you just want to get my autograph.”

Kokichi put a finger to his chin, thinking hard–or hardly thinking, it was always hard to tell with someone like him.

“Well, do you need me to prove it? I’ll say I like you a thousand times! Here, why don’t I start now?” He opened his mouth wide and started chanting, “I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, I like-”

You hastily slapped a hand over his mouth and fearfully glanced around the classroom. Luckily, everyone else was busy with their own conversations during lunchtime.

“Stop that, you’re going to get everyone’s attention!” you grumbled.

“Oh?” he chuckled as he pulled your hand from his mouth, and a look of delighted mischief sparkled in his eyes–a look, you now realize, of trouble. “You know what an even better way to get everyone’s attention is? Watch this!”

And then, he leaned in and pressed his soft, pale lips to yours–but they were gone so soon, no sooner than you had realized they’d even touched you at all, too soon, in fact. You sat there in shock, face rapidly heating up; you were melting like butter in a hot pan, like ice under the summer sun, and you had no idea how to cope.

Slowly, you brought your fingers to your lips, still staring at Kokichi, who had the smuggest little smile on his face.

“You-!”

“Did you like it? Should I kiss you again?” he licked his lips, smirking. “Here, hold still-”

But before he could do anything else, he was interrupted by Kaito, who had grabbed onto his shoulders firmly with an uncontrollable blush on his face. Kaito could barely even look at you, instead fiercely glaring at Kokichi.

“What are you doing to them?! You didn’t even ask, and you’re in the damn classroom, Kokichi! Our entire class just saw that!”

Kokichi stuck his tongue out at Kaito, struggling against Kaito’s hold on him.

“Yeah, and who cares? They didn’t say they didn’t like it. Right, [Name]?” He paused and waved his hand in front of your dazed face. “Hellooooo, Earth to [Name]?”

You shook your head rapidly, trying to come back to your senses. Of all the things to happen today, you hadn’t expected to be kissed by Kokichi Ouma. Maybe just another plea for an autograph, and maybe a prank or two, but a kiss? And not only that, but you hadn’t expected yourself to like it so much. Or like him so much.

“No, I…” Still thoroughly startled, you glanced away, still blushing, only to notice that the entire class was practically staring at the two of you (and Kaito, now that he’d tried to intervene). Tenko had put her hands up over her eyes, except she’d parted her fingers, so she wasn’t actually blocking anything from sight as she blushed furiously. Meanwhile, Shuichi had dropped his egg roll onto his desk, and Gonta was trying to ask Miu what kissing was and what it meant. Angie was watching with fervent interest, and Maki seemed shocked you’d let him kiss you to begin with, judging by the murderous expression on her face.

To hell with it, you decided. Let them watch. Most of your life as the Ultimate Celebrity was already watched, anyway. What was one more thing?

“It’s my turn now,” you grinned. Kaito let go of him, seeming to notice the tension in the air. “Don’t move.”

You leaned over the desk and with a finger, tilted his chin up toward you, watching the Adam’s apple of his slender neck bob nervously.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, not just once, not just twice, but three times. When you finally let go of him, you had the pleasure of seeing a thoroughly and truly bewildered look on his face for once; his eyes were blank, as if trying to process what had just happened, and a generous amount of pink had painted itself over his usually pale cheeks.

Kaito gave a wolf whistle and clapped, while the others started murmuring to each other.

“Nyeh… Is this the power of the Ultimate Celebrity?” Himiko uttered in surprise. “Truly magic to be wary of…”

“It’s not m-magic,” Tenko stuttered and flusteredly pointed at you. “It’s, it’s sorcery! They made Kokichi shut up for once in his life!”

“No, no, this surely must be a divine act bestowed by Atua,” Angie crowed.

“Did we want Kokichi to shut up that badly…?” Shuichi asks tentatively.

“Yes.” Maki stabbed her pickled plum with scary precision. “Yes, we did.”

Kaede tried to assuage everyone’s complaints.

“Now, he’s not that bad…”

“Well, I’m glad that pipsqueak shut up for once!” Miu exclaimed.

“Yes, he’s an absolute menace,” Korekiyo agreed.

But the quiet Kokichi didn’t last for long–or at least, not as long as some of them hoped it would. He swiftly leapt up from his seat and pulled you up, too, before hug-attacking you.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had it in you! From now on, you have to kiss me everyday,” he declared proudly. “And if you skimp, you have to give me an autograph!”

You pat him on the head, chuckling–his hair was so soft, you absent-mindedly thought to yourself.

“Again with the autograph. You really are persistent,” you laughed.

He pulled back for a moment and sweetly stared into your eyes.

“But that’s what you like about me so much, right? Nishishi!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shrugged, but you could feel your cheeks warming up again.

Kokichi leaned in close, the breath from his mouth tickling your ear.

“Just between you and me, though, I’d take your kisses over your autograph any day, so don’t forget~”

#kokichi ouma #kokichi ouma x reader #reader insert #ndrv3 #danganronpa #new danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 #kokichi x ultimate celebrity reader #x reader #requested #writing #lux writes #prompted #requests open #luxexhomines #maybe i need to re-engage my love for the danganronpa characters more deeply #bc idk it just felt like i was writing this without much soul (?) if that makes any sense #or maybe its my imaginative abilities that need more power??#anyway i tried my best tho!! i tried to do some research #by which i mean i tried to see how other people wrote imagines & i checked my old kokichi writing #maybe next time i should check ao3 for inspo #i actually think this was too long #oftentimes short and sweet is better #but oh well #i just did a little bit of editing & wrote the bulk of this yesterday #anyway time for me to shut up i hope you are doing well tho!!!!#ALSO wait i forgot to say i did have fun #it was a bit of a struggle but it was fun hehe so thank you :3

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town Part 1

Just like with Little Runaway the tagging cap is at 20.

Steve had finally been convinced to join the Hellfire Club’s main campaign. It actually took Mike begging him to join, that finally convinced him. Though Mike only did it to impress Eddie and Will, but Steve going to take it as a win regardless.

So he offered to have it at his place so that when this went to shit like it did last time, he’d have somewhere else he could go, but still be able to take kids home.

Eddie and Dustin arrived early to help set up and get things ready for the session.

Eddie handed Steve a small velvet pouch that rattled when it dropped into his hand.

“What’s this?” Steve asked furrowing his brow.

“Open it,” Dustin said bouncing on his heels excitedly.

Steve opened the bag and poured out the contents into his other hand. In his hand were yellow and orange dice with black numbers.

“Oh wow,” he whispered. “These are neat.”

“They’re yours!” Dustin said. “Every player has to have their own set.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

Soon everyone arrived and got settled in, Eddie in the DM’s chair, Steve to his right and Will to his left. Dustin was on Steve’s other side. Mike was next to Will and Erica and Lucas were at the far end of the table.

Steve looked around at everyone’s character sheet and then looked at Eddie. “Do we have time to roll up a character for me? I kinda forgot we needed to.”

Eddie smiled and handed Steve a piece of paper with a flourish. Steve took it gingerly.

He frowned. “Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town?”

“Yup!” Eddie said popping the last consonant. “We talked about it and figured the best way to introduce you to the game is to get you used to the game mechanics first. Your character is you. All you have to do is act like you would act and we’ll guide you through the rest of it.”

“I’m a barbarian?” he asked softly. “That‒that doesn’t sound very cool.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Erica said. “Barbarians were originally just people the Romans thought were inferior, despite getting their asses handed to them on the regular. It might mean someone who is crude now. But it didn’t always.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “It’s a cool thing?”

“Very cool,” Eddie confirmed.

Steve looked down at his character sheet again and the frown deepened. “Is ten in intelligence bad?”

“It’s average,” Lucas said. “No bonuses but no penalties either.”

“So, I’m not smart?” Steve asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Steve sweetheart, you are focusing on the bad. Look that the rest of your stats.”

“Seventeen in strength, fifteen in dexterity, eighteen in constitution, sixteen in wisdom, and fifteen in charisma...” he rattled off. “Okay...but I don’t know what that all means.”

“Strength is how hard you can hit stuff or how much weight you can carry or lift,” Dustin said.

“And seventeen is good?” Steve asked.

“Oh yeah,” Mike said. “Especially for a level one without bonuses. You hit hard.”

Steve nodded feeling a little better. “And what’s dexterity? That’s how quick you move, right?”

“A little,” Will said. “But it’s also how agile you are.”

Steve nodded. “I know what charisma is,” he said with a wink. “And fifteen is above average, right?”

“Yeah,” Erica said. “I had to argue that one to be higher.” She glared at the boys. Who promptly had elsewhere to look.

“And the last one, what’s the difference between intelligence which is low and my wisdom which is high?”

“Intelligence is knowing it’s raining,” Eddie explained. “Wisdom is knowing to bring an umbrella because it was cloudy when you woke up that morning.”

“So I’m smart in a different way?” Steve asked.

“Hell yeah, you are, Stevie,” Eddie said with a grin.

Steve looked down at his sheet one more time. “Anything else I need to know?”

Will looked over at Eddie. “Can I explain rage to him?”

Eddie laughed. “Go for it, Will the Wise.”

“What’s rage?” Steve asked.

“When a barbarian’s hit points drop to a certain range,” Will explained excitedly, “they go into this fugue state where they deal more damage but they sacrifice their intelligence until it wears off or until their hit points reach zero.”

“But I don’t do that,” Steve said, frowning again.

“Honey,” Eddie said gently, “I’ve seen you. You ripped a demobat from tip to tail with your bare hands, shirtless and barefoot. And spat out the blood like it was a bad tasting beer. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was awesome.”

Steve blinked. He vaguely remembered doing that. “Oh.”

“Look at your weapon, Steve,” Mike said excitedly. He was nearly vibrating with anticipation.

“A mace? I don’t know what that is...” He was starting to think that this was all a way for them to make fun of him.

Eddie whipped out the players’ handbook and began flipping through the pages. He stopped and then turned the book over to Steve.

Steve looked down at it awe. “It’s like a badass version of my bat.”

“Exactly!” Mike said. “Isn’t it awesome!”

Steve smiled for the first time since he sat down. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

“And the final thing,” Lucas said. “Is improvised weapon proficiency.”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“It means you can pick up anything,” Erica said, “a bottle, a chair, or anything like that and you don’t get an penalties for your attack rolls.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Oh you mean like I did with the phone and the Russians?”

“Exactly!” Erica said.

“Oh.” He looked down at the character sheet with a little bit more enthusiasm.

“So just play the character as is,” Dustin said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “We’ll help you do the game mechanics until you get the hang of it. And then when we start the next campaign you can create your own character and learn to roleplay.��

Steve looked down at his sheet again. “Okay. Yeah. I can handle that.”

“Everyone ready?” Eddie asked. When he got a series of nods and agreements, he began. “You are all in a large tavern that seats about sixty to seventy people. There are three barmaids, a dark-skinned human, a half orc who looks like she could double for security, and a halfling...”

Steve would stop him every once and a while asking questions about what things were or what they meant and each time someone would explain it to him.

Finally they wrap up for the night and Steve is chatting as happily about the campaign as the rest of them.

“Dude!” Lucas said. “Eddie was right, you are a barbarian. A kick ass one, too.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks man. I thought I would be a cleric or a paladin. But I guess not.”

Erica pats him on the back. “Starting with magic users is hard to begin with, and picking something because it looked cool is even harder. I learned that the hard way too.”

“You do realize that you’ve said some variation of the word ‘hard’ three times, right?” Mike teased.

“Shut up,” everyone shot back.

Mike ducked his head, but Steve ruffled his hair. Mike blushed but pushed a laughing Steve off him.

Will raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing.

“So, big boy,” Eddie said, strolling up to the party. “You coming back for round two?”

Everyone turned to look at Steve with baited breath.

“Hell, yeah!”

And cheer went up.

“You hear that, Eddie?” Dustin asked jumping up and down. “He’s coming back!!”

Eddie just smiled at Steve.

Steve ducked his head and blushed.

“Okay,” he said with a cough. “Who am I taking home and who’s going with Eddie?”

Mike and Sinclairs went with Eddie and Will and Dustin went with Steve.

Dustin crawled in the back seat, like he always did when he was too hyper for the front seat. Something Steve insisted on, so that he could actually drive.

Will got into the front seat. “I’m glad you had fun, Steve.”

Steve grinned. “Me, too...though I will admit it wasn’t looking very good to start with.”

“I told them we should have started with the fun stuff so that the other stuff didn’t come out as insulting, but no...” Will muttered.

“It wasn’t insulting!” Dustin protested. He paused. “Was it, Steve?”

Steve looked in the mirror and smiled softly at the crestfallen look on his young friend’s face.

“Nah, Eddie was right,” Steve said. “I was focusing on the negative.”

“Because you’d been burned before,” Will defended. “Which is why I wanted to start with your weapons and your feat. Because that stuff is badass.”

Steve grinned again. “Hell, yeah that was. Who knew that medieval weaponry could be so cool. I thought it was just axes and swords with maybe bows and arrows.”

“There is way more to it than that,” Dustin said, his enthusiasm coming back. “There are spears and morningstars and war hammers. All sorts of cool stuff.”

They chatted about medieval weapons until the dropped Dustin off. As soon as they had pulled away from the curb Will spoke.

“I have something for you,” he said digging something out his bag. Steve glanced down at the drawing and smiled.

“That’s awesome, Will,” Steve said with a grin. “My very own Will Byers original. Is that supposed to be me?”

Will nodded. “Yeah. I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “Because you thought I wouldn’t like it?”

Will shook his head. “I didn’t want draw everyone’s characters.”

“Down side of being an artist, unfortunately,” Steve agreed. “If you play an instrument they demand you play something for them, if you draw, draw something for them, I think the only time people don’t demand art from you is when you’re a writer, but they always ask if you’ve written a book.”

Will frowned. “Sounds like you know from experience.”

Steve glanced at him and smiled. “Don’t tell anyone else, but I draw, too.”

“You do?”

“Not like you,” Steve admitted. “It’s not very good. But it’s fun and I enjoy it.”

“Can I see some?” Will asked tentatively.

“Sure,” Steve said. “Like I said, I’m not very impressive, but come over tomorrow. I don’t have work.”

“I’d like that,” Will said softly.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #dnd #steve's hidden talents #ladykailtiha writes

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

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pretty when you cry - chapter six

series masterlist / chapter seven

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 03/16/22*

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: mentions of injury and blood. angst. arguing. dubcon relationship. mentions of assault. uh… not much for this chapter so that’s it i think. if i’m missing anything please let me know. future chapters will contain noncon/dubcon smut. 18+ ONLY.

words: 2.7k

notes: is this soft!dark bucky? idk what people consider soft!dark vs dark! but i definitely think i’m heading into soft!dark territory… idk whatever lol. here’s the long awaited chapter six. seven should be up next wednesday, i think i’m heading back to the weekly updates…hopefully. anyways! as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated. thank you all for reading! hope you enjoy this chapter. let me know what you think. 💘

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You trudged into the kitchen and made yourself a cup of coffee. You thought you should try and stay awake tonight. You popped a frozen pizza into the oven and watched tv while it baked.

You managed to stay up until sunrise, your thoughts having no problem keeping you awake as Hulu played on your screen. Even if you had wanted to sleep, there was no way you would have been able to. But now, as the sun was rising, your eyelids began to flutter shut. You didn’t fight it as sleep over took you, grateful for the reprieve from your ever racing thoughts.

You had turned your alarm off last night, not wanting the ringing to sound on your day off when you had no plans. So to say you were startled when a loud whirring noise jolted you awake on your couch was an understatement.

You yelped at the sight of a striking blonde woman coming up beside you around the couch.

“Hey,” she said nonchalantly as you stared at her in shock, not sure exactly what to do. “I’m Nat,” she offered as she sat down next to you while you raised yourself up and sat straight. “You’re y/n.” she spoke again while you were still trying to gather your wits. Tilting your head at her before quickly turning to face the grating sound coming from your kitchen once again. You saw Steve and Bucky at your back door. Bucky stood with a drill and new bolting mechanism, as Steve was pulling the old one out of its place in the door.

“What the fuck,” you muttered but felt yourself calm down slightly when your eyes landed on Bucky. You saw him start to smirk, and you were sure it was because he could feel the shift in your emotions when you saw it was him. “Didn’t mean to wake you, sweetheart. Just fixing this door,” he said as he showed you the lock in his hand.

You looked from him to Steve who met your gaze with a glare. You cringed at the sight of him, he was sporting a fresh black eye and what looked like a split lip from what you could see. Your eyes went back to Bucky questioningly and he was wearing a lopsided grin as you blinked slowly and turned back to the woman at your side who was now scrolling through shows on your tv. She glanced over at you with a light smile before turning back to the screen.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I was starting to think you were just a figment of their collective imagination. But when Peter was talking about meeting up with you yesterday and Bucky lost his mind at the garage, I figured you had to be real. You’re prettier than I thought you’d be, too,” she smirked as she raised a brow and gave you an appreciative look up and down. You felt your face grow hot as she looked at you and didn’t know what to say. You went with a quiet and unsure, “thank you,” as you got up from your seat on the couch, slowly backing away. “Excuse me,” you muttered as you turned and rushed to your bathroom.

You slammed the door shut and turned the lock as quickly as you were able to. You weren’t even sure what time it was, you felt completely thrown off. You didn’t know what to do, so you decided to do your morning routine, trying to gain some semblance of a normal Sunday morning. You stared at yourself in the mirror while you brushed your teeth, still slightly in shock at the presence of not only Bucky, but Steve and this woman in your home. You put your toothbrush away as you rinsed your mouth. Home, you scoffed. Home wasn’t what it felt like anymore. Home was what you’d call a place that was safe and comforting, a place you could escape from the harsh realities of the outside world in. It just seemed like everything harsh was finding a way to seep in. Not just in your house, but seeping into you, too. Your body. Your soul. You hated it.

A burst of anger shot through you as you looked into your eyes through the reflection staring back at you. No more. You’ve had enough of this. Of him. You unlocked the door and threw it open in a huff, planning on storming into the kitchen to get these people out of your home. Unfortunately, you were a little too caught up in your head and didn’t register the large body standing in front of the bathroom door, crashing right into Bucky’s chest as he reached out to steady you. You looked up and shoved him off of you roughly. “Stop touching me all the time,” you growled. “I don’t know what makes you think you’re welcome here, but because obviously I haven’t made myself clear, let me state it out loud for you, you’re not. It’s bad enough you keep breaking in whenever you feel like, now you’re bringing friends, too? I don’t want you here. I don’t want any of you here. And don’t even get me started on the irony of you fixing my lock. You want to make sure I’m safe? Well I don’t feel safe. In fact, I’m not safe. Especially not when you’re around. I want you to leave.”

The hurt that briefly flashed in his eyes at your words made you feel bad. For 0.2 seconds before you reassured yourself that he deserved that. He should feel hurt. You feel hurt.

You feel bad. He should feel bad. That look of hurt on his face was quickly replaced with indignation, and any empathy you may have had for him vanished as he spoke to you.

“Obviously, I haven’t made myself clear, sweetheart. I told you before and I’ll keep telling you until it gets through that pretty little head of yours, doll. You are my concern. You are mine. Nothing you say or do is gonna change that, so you might want to stop fighting me so hard and making this worse for yourself,” he spoke harshly as he backed you up into the wall, his presence overwhelming you for a moment.

“Oh,” you gasped mockingly, “I’m sorry - I should just be going along with this whole thing? Just, just act like you didn’t break into my house and force yourself onto me,” you said bitterly. “That your best friend didn’t shove me so hard my skull cracked against a brick wall. That you then let that same friend and some woman I have literally never seen in my life, let alone have met, into my house while I was sleeping? That you haven’t been having me following and - I’m so sure - stalking me for weeks now? Does any of that sound normal to you? Do you genuinely not see any issue here? You think I should just be on board with you and everything you do and every decision you make because we’re - quote unquote - ‘meant to be’? Newsflash, jackass: I’m not your princess and you’re not a prince this isn’t a fairytale and I’m getting really sick of this whole soulmate bullshit you keep bringing up, as if that changes anything.”

You were fuming at this point and didn’t bother to care about angering him further as he towered over you, your chin raised in defiance as you looked him in the eye while you spoke every word. You were only momentarily distracted by him sticking his tongue out and running it along his bottom lip while his eyes were drinking you in as you yelled at him. You stopped speaking, your mouth parting in surprise at his reaction. Ignoring the spark that ignited in you, you scoffed.

“Are you even listening to me? You can’t pretend to care for two fucking seconds? You’re disgusting.” you seethed before pushing him away from you and heading to your kitchen to let his company know they weren’t welcome here either. He followed slightly behind you.

“They left. And I am listening. I just get distracted when you get angry and mouthy. It’s cute,” he said as you spun on him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t,” you warned as you stuck your finger out at him. “This isn’t funny,” you started again before his hand shot to your jaw and squeezed, your voice dying at his actions.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. In fact, you’re starting to piss me off a little bit, princess,” your mouth shut entirely as you looked into his ever darkening eyes. You didn’t really have anything else to say. Even if you did, you weren’t sure you’d dare to speak with the tight hold he had on you and that taunting look on his face, almost daring you to say something more. When he was sure you didn’t have a witty retort, he continued, leaning into your ear to speak, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I took advantage of you, and I’m sorry. But-”

“See right there, that should be the end of your sentence,” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Earning a harsh squeeze on your jaw that he still had his hand on, causing you to whimper slightly as he sounded his disapproval.

“But,” he restated gruffly, “you can’t deny that I didn’t make you feel good. Better than anyone else ever has,”

Your breath caught in your chest as you recoiled slightly from him, his grip still keeping you close, though.

“There never was anyone else,” you whispered harshly, trying not to let emotion seep through, not wanting to reveal your hurt as you tried to turn your face away from his.

You felt his hand loosen on your jaw as he let you turn your face away. He backed away to look at you fully, but you refused to meet him.

“What?” was all he uttered.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you said as you turned completely away from him and back into the kitchen. “Please, spare us both and don’t pretend to care, either.”

“I didn’t - you didn’t say-”

“Didn’t say anything?” you finished incredulously. “What part of ‘stop’ did you not get? Was my pleading not enough? Huh? I was begging you!” you yelled. “Would that have stopped you anyway?” you asked. “Because I don’t think it would have. You think it’s more fucked up now?” you chuckled humorlessly. “Because I was a virgin, that’s the part you feel bad about?”

“That’s not -,” he tried to start as you watched his jaw clench.

“I don’t want to hear it. Okay. I really don’t,” you interrupted.

He glared at you, but you didn’t back down this time, meeting his harsh gaze with your own.

You turned to a cabinet, pulled out a glass, moved to the fridge, took out your water pitcher and filled your cup. You heard him exhale through his nose, but he didn’t say anything as you had your back to him.

You put the glass to your lips as you drank, your throat very dry and growing more hoarse the angrier you got. You felt Bucky approach behind you, but didn’t move.

“It probably wouldn’t have stopped me. I might’ve been nicer, though.”

“Fuck you,” you seethed at his response as you shook your head.

It was a moment before he spoke again. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, more sincerely. Placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, running it down your arm when you didn’t brush him away. Taking your hand in his, he spun you toward him. He took your face in his hands and stared at you while you continued looking everywhere but at him. Though you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his touch. He leaned his forehead to yours and spoke gently once more, “I’m sorry.” You looked up and met his eye before he moved in closer and pressed his lips to yours.

You quickly broke the kiss, your hands grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from your face.

“I heard you the first time.”

He sucked his lip into his mouth as you dropped his hands and moved around him.

“My head hurts. I’m sure you can see your way out.”

“Let me see it.”

“No,” you said as you continued walking to your room.

“Y/N,” he warned, an unspoken threat in his tone making you stop in your tracks.

You huffed, but relented. “Fine.”

He walked behind you as you entered your room. You sat on the edge of your bed and he sat next to you, turning you so that your back was to him. He carefully felt for the injury and stopped prodding when you winced.

“I cleaned it last night after it stopped bleeding. I’m fine. Just sore.”

“He’s gonna apologize,”

“God, Bucky! I don’t need another shitty apology from someone who doesn’t care,” you snapped.

“I care,” he stated. “I do.”

You just shook your head and leaned down to hold your head in your hands as you fought back tears. You were being drained emotionally. You wanted Bucky to leave and at the same time you wanted to crawl into his lap and have his arms wrapped around you. The conflict was killing you. Head vs heart. Your heart was screaming at you to forgive him and let him hold you. Love you. And your head was fighting back fiercely. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, you couldn’t even trust that he was sorry. As if that would be enough anyway. But fuck did you want him. It was tearing you apart.

“I can’t do this,” you said weakly as your voice threatened to shake.

“I told you. You can’t fight it. You’re just hurting yourself, sweetheart. This could all be easy if you just let yourself feel what you feel. Give yourself what you want.. need. Me,” he coaxed smoothly.

“This isn’t easy. I’m sure it could have been, but it’s not. And you did that, you - you made it this way,” you wavered as you spoke quietly. “It feels… right? To be with you. But it feels wrong, too. Like it’s this tainted thing that that’s.. it’s been ruined. You ruined it. Even if I wanted to forgive you, I can’t forget what you did. Everything you said. And it hurts,” you said as you choked on a sob. You didn’t even register him wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder as you were hunched forward crying. Your arms hugging his as he tried to ease your sobs.

You cursed yourself as you became aware of the fact that you were once again crying about your soulmate while seeking comfort from him at the same time. Was this just the way things were going to be now? Hurt and comfort coming from the same man. The man your soul ached for and your brain wanted so badly to hate. Maybe it was going to be this way from now on. But you weren’t going to just give in, you told yourself again. He didn’t deserve for this to be easy.

But right here, right now.. you were just so tired.

“I just don’t want to think anymore,” you whispered as your cries died down.

He slid his arms from around you and went to lift your legs fully on your bed, turning and adjusting you as he laid you down, you were too tired to argue anymore, letting him move you around. You turned onto your side and closed your eyes as he climbed over you and pulled you into his chest as he pulled your blanket up over you, murmuring into your hair, “You don’t have to think right now. You’re still tired. Just sleep, doll. You can keep being angry at me when you wake up.”

You wanted to push him away. More so, knew that you should want to push him away. But you didn’t. Despite yourself, you crawled further into his warmth. You heard him whisper, “I’m not going anywhere,” and you mustered out a grumble in response as you drifted off into an unsuspectingly dream filled sleep while his hands rubbed up and down your back soothingly, the simultaneous warm and cool touches now comforting you as you rested your head on his chest falling asleep in his arms.

#dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x plus size reader #dark!bucky x curvy!reader #dark!bucky x plus size!reader #pwyc series #soft!dark bucky #soft!dark bucky x reader

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pridepurgatorium · 8 months

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As above, So below

Chapter l/?

Lucifer x reader

Chpt. tags: Arguing (uhhh take that with a grain of salt because it’s not like. abusive arguing. fairly healthy i think?), Dinners, Mammon (help him), The Study of Sin

Series tags: Angst, Fluff(?)(mayhaps), Mc character study (mayhaps)

Description: A story in which you, the reader, learn what it means to fight with sin. But it’s not just Lucifer’s pride you have to work with now. Perhaps a bit more tactical than you would’ve hoped?

Or, you try to understand Lucifer’s sin but something more… sinister occurs.

AO3 Link here.

Lucifer was nothing if not powerful. He was a demon of the highest class, second only to two in the entire land, a demon prince and his butler. But what if that wasn’t truly the case? What if there were three he yielded to, and one of them, the unlikeliest of specimens, a human with no particularly notable achievements prior to their stay at the Devildom? Sometimes, in one of his fits of arrogance, where the only thing that seemed to matter was keeping himself above everyone in every conceivable way, he gave you this look. As if you were still the human exchange student that got dumped onto him at the beginning of the year as if you 2 hadn’t spent more passionate nights together than you cared to keep track of, as if he still believed you were trying to tear his family apart from the seams. Those were the nights you knew that you could not talk to him, he was fighting his pride, as he always was, and tonight, it was winning.

It’s not as if you didn’t want to help him, but on those nights, he was more demon than Lucifer. If you think about it, he should be all demon, he is the Lucifer, and a year ago you would’ve thought there was no more to him than demon, but there is. But on these nights, when at dinner he glares at you, barely containing a growl, and Mammon stares at you with fearful eyes, you know it’d be best to stay away from him.

There are… times when you have thought it appropriate to talk with him while he’s in these moods. The conversation always goes the same way, you try to offer help and support, but he takes it as pity, and does actually growl at you, barking an “I don’t need the help of a human”.

It was like he wasn’t himself. But he was. And it hurt, more than you think you’re feeble human vocabulary had any hope of articulating.

It was not as if Pride himself could apologize; would that not be the ultimate sign of weakness?

No Lucifer, it is not a sign of weakness, and that is what you’re determined to teach him. Not to break through his pride but rather to rework its mechanics. Hopefully for the better.

You start like you usually would, with kind words and admiration.

“Lucifer I know your pride is more… prominent?-” Saying prominent with so much uncertainty you're not even hopeful of this attempt yourself. “tonight but you know who I am, and all the memories and feelings we hold dear from each other, I don’t understand why you’re being like this if you could help me-“

He cuts you off quickly “Understand? What is there to understand human, you are far too simple of a creature to grapple with the controlling feeling of sin. You are not cursed with it, I must suffer, my brothers must suffer, and you, human, you do not understand, will not understand, can not understand, and will not suffer.” He says human with far too much disdain for the Lucifer you love.

It takes you a while to come up with a response which he takes as a win, because that is what everything is to him, or rather how he’d like to think about his life.

The way he has said it is undoubtedly meant to insult you and your “feeble” human brain, but it’s that last part, where he essentially says “you won’t understand me so I won’t tell you” that’s got you thinking.

It’s a concept that’s fascinated you since you came to meet these beings of sin. What does it feel like to be cursed with it?

“My dear, I want to. I am not stupid and you are not inarticulate I doubt there would be words in the english language to describe to controlling nature of sin but… there must be a way for me to understand”

For a moment, a split second, a tiny fragment in time, he gives you this face like he has an idea, quickly wiping it from his face almost as if the idea frightened him. That’s got you even more curious.

So there is a way.

“Lucifer you got a look on your face, there’s a way, yes?”

“No, it’s not a way for humans, it just reminded me of a case study from a while back”

“What case study? What was it about?”

“Mmm, as much as I love indulging your curiosity, I’m quite peeved at you, run along now”

So much for that route.

But! You got information, and in the Devildom, with your connections and curiosity? All you needed to know was that it existed for you to find it.

Where there is a will there is a way, so to speak.

Wow it’s been a while, I really didn’t mean to be gone for so long I just. School? And lack of inspiration? Deadly combination I’ll tell you.

I’ve had the beginning of this down for a while but wasn’t sure where to take it? I finally had an idea and what your left with it The Study of Pride.

Thank you so much to Cass (attic-club-sandwhich) for helping the creative juices and encouraging me to actually post.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #omswd lucifer #lucifer angst #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #its a seriee if that wasn’t clear #purgatory’s fanfics #obey me mammon

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

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MyGirl!Series Part Two: Helpless: Remy Scott x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @whateversomethingbruh @@a-noni-love

Companion piece to Marks & Too Much, Too Soon

It’s bad, really bad. Remy realises that the moment he sees Jubal pacing up and down the length of the waiting room, twanging the hair elastic on his wrist like the damn things a lifeline. He knows your A.S.A.C has had issues with alcohol in the past, that he uses this technique as coping mechanism and right now it’s a glaring red flag that something has gone terribly wrong.

“Jubal.” He snaps, his voice rough as he steps over the threshold. “What are we doing here?”

“I’m sorry.” Jubal says, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck as he turns his attention to Remy. “I didn’t realise the two of you were together. If I had I would have called right away.”

“We’ve been seeing each other a couple of months.” Remy tells Jubal crossing his arms over his chest. “We were supposed to be having dinner tonight, but she didn’t show and now I know why.”

“Has she told you anything about the case she’s been working on?” Jubal asks quietly as he guides Remy towards a secluded set of seating in the corner of the room.

Remy shakes his head as he sits down.

“I’ve been in Arkansas for most of the week chasing down a fugitive.” He tells Jubal. “We haven’t really been able to connect.”

What he doesn’t say is that the two of you hooked up last night. That he’d called you when he’d gotten in from Arkansas and you had shown up dressed in that pretty little lace thing that he liked. He’d spent the night showing you exactly how much he missed you before you’d disappeared from his bed this morning. There had been no talking involved, at least not about cases.

“We’ve been looking into a religious group out in Long Island, we suspected them of trafficking women. Ani was able to go undercover and make contact with the founder. He took a liking to her; we just didn’t realise how much of a liking until things took a turn.” Jubal snaps the elastic band against his wrist.

Remy can tell he’s reliving the experience, that on some level Jubal feels responsible for what happened. Remy doesn’t begrudge him that, he knows how quickly things can turn in the field, how something you thought was one thing can quickly become another.

“She was assaulted.” Jubal tells him, his lips pursing together grimly. “He slipped a roofie into her tea. We managed to get there before it went too far but it was close…”

The air rushes out of Remy’s lungs and for a second it feels like the floor caves in because the thought of you in that position…

So fucking helpless, unable to move or comprehend what’s happening to you. Christ it makes him want to murder the man who did it.

“He didn’t…”

He can’t bring himself to say the words, but Jubal catches his drift.

“No.” Jubal says, his hands clasped in front of him. “There was some unwanted touching, but it didn’t get much further. We were on the scene within minutes.”

Unwanted touching, he knows what that means. He’s just grateful your team got there before it managed to progress otherwise they’d be clearing the fucker’s brains off the walls of his cell.

“They’re keeping her overnight because of the Rohypnol.” Jubal tells him, his finger toying with the elastic band on his wrist. “They said that she should be released sometime tomorrow.”

“Can I see her?” Remy asks the other man, his palms running over one another. “I just need to see for myself that she’s ok.”

“She’s in Room 208.” Jubal tells him, tilting his head to the corridor nearby. “The Doc said she may be in and out for a while.”

Remy nods his understanding before raising to his feet. His hand comes to clasp Jubal’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for this.” He tells the other man.

Jubal shakes his head.

“I should have seen it.” Jubal says bitterly.

“This isn’t on you; it isn’t on anyone except the bastard who hurt her.” Remy says fiercely. “She’s safe and you caught him, that’s the important thing.”

“Yea.” Jubal says, running his hand through his hair. “Yea, I know you’re right.”

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#remy scott #remy scott x reader #remy scott x you #fbi most wanted

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littleoddwriter · 6 months

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Hey I saw you're requests were open so I thought I'd give it a shot. I been a fan of your writing for years asspecialy roman x male reader.

So I was wondering if you could do roman sionis x male reader, who copes with life with starving himself and using drugs.

I completely understand if that's a lot and if you don't feel comfortable writing it for any reason whatsoever I more than understand. Please put you're well being first please. You're writing has always been a big comfort to me and tge past few months haven't been the easiest and yeah 😅

Keep up the amazing work and remember to take care of yourself, I'm really sorry if this was uncomfortable to read or has waisted your time

Coping | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Hey there! Thank you so much, first of all!!! That really means a lot to me, so, thank you! And thank you for your request and trusting me with something so personal. I hope the story I wrote for it can give you some comfort and that I've done your request justice. Please stay strong and keep on going. I'm happy you're here and I hope things will get better for you! <3 Take care! <3 summary; See above. notes; Male!Reader; Implied Past Traumas; Mentioned Drug Abuse (Cocaine & Heroin); Mentioned Disordered Eating Habits; Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms; Emotional Hurt/Comfort.

Having been dealt a pretty bad hand in life, you have developed unhealthy and self-destructive coping mechanisms to get through your days. Rationally, and always in the back of your mind, you knew that what you were doing to cope with the negativity and difficulties in your life, you only made things worse.

Starving yourself didn’t make your issues go away, and neither did the drugs. Of course not. But substance abuse has given you those much needed breaks from your own mind and the bullshit you had to deal with day in and out. Not eating - or rather, very rarely - was mostly a form of self-punishment. A method you’ve learned early in your life.

After meeting Roman, things had been going well for a little while. You ate pretty often because of your dinner dates with the other man; although your portions were fairly small. And you did lines of cocaine with Roman together, which definitely made it seem like it wasn’t so bad after all.

You’ve been feeling pretty happy when you were with him. That was new. You liked it. And you definitely liked him.

Deep down, you knew it wouldn’t last though. This natural high of being with Roman.

It only took one new traumatic experience, which was a painful reminder of your terrible past, to let everything crash down and burn.

When you met with Roman and he wanted to have a meal with you, you refused. You said that you weren’t hungry and he accepted it after a small fight. He hated not having his way, but he also knew when to let go. At least, he did with you.

But the more often it occurred, the more suspicious he became.

The next time you saw him, it was unexpected. You had just done a shot of heroin before he barged into your small, dirty apartment.

“I hate being played with, Y/N,” Roman stated angrily, uncaring of the fact that he had just crashed your high.

You simply looked at him with heavy eyelids, trying hard to focus on him standing in front of and above you as you were slumped on your worn-down couch.

Frowning, Roman snapped his gloved fingers in front of your face, “Are you not listening to me?”

As he asked this, you made a small sound in the back of your throat, humming softly in acknowledgment.

“What’s your problem?” you responded eventually, rubbing your hands over your scruffy face.

Roman fixed you with a piercing glare, sniffing in disdain, “You are.”

That woke you up a little, as though somebody had poured a bucket of ice water over your head.

“What do you mean?” you asked dumbfounded.

“The fact that you’ve been fucking avoiding me! You keep standing me up when I want to meet you. We haven’t even fucked in a while,” Roman huffs with annoyance, “If you don’t want to see me anymore, then just fucking say so, but don’t you fucking dare lead me on!”

Sitting up straight, you held up your hands in a placating manner.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you rushed the words out, “Roman, no. I don’t… Fuck…”

With a deep sigh, you put your head into your hands, scratching your scalp in frustration.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m not leading you on, I promise!” you said urgently, looking back up at Roman with pleading, bloodshot eyes.

As suddenly as his anger usually appears, the fight left Roman’s body and he sat down next to you on your couch. He was trying hard not to make a comment about the state of your apartment, let alone your couch, or you, but you could see the disgust in his features before he schooled his expression.

“Then what’s going on with you?” Roman asked in a surprisingly soft voice. You could even detect a hint of vulnerability in it.

For a long moment, you simply looked at him and debated with yourself. Should you tell him the truth? Would he leave you if he knew how broken you really were?

The longer your gaze held his, you felt your resolve break until you broke down in tears as all of your repressed feelings suddenly came to overwhelm you.

It took Roman a few seconds to act, but he put his arms around you and pulled you close at last. He didn’t say anything and just let you cry into his shoulder. He would probably make you pay for his ruined suit jacket one way or another, but that would be a problem for you in the future. And maybe it didn’t matter as much to him now anyway.

Through your pained sobs and stinging tears, you explained it to Roman. You told him about your traumatic past, your coping mechanisms, your current situation that led to you neglecting your relationship with him. All of it spilled out of you without a way of stopping it.

When you were slowly calming down, Roman kept his arms around you and rubbed your back soothingly.

“Well, I didn’t expect that,” Roman mused, “but I’m glad you’re not fucking with me.”

Knowing Roman, this was as close as you’d get to any sort of response to what you just told him. It was also the closest thing to reassurance from him. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t scream at you. He simply held you close and comforted you in his own way.

“We’ll have to find you some better coping mechanisms, though. And stop punishing yourself by not eating for fuck’s sake!” Roman continued after a few long moments. It made you smile weakly.

“I’ll try,” you responded hoarsely.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘I’ll try’, my fucking ass. You’re going to move in with me and I’ll watch you eat a full meal at least once a day. Got it?”

There it was. Roman’s way of showing that he actually cared.

For a minute or so, you were so stunned by his, well, demand, that you completely forgot to respond, until he nudged you with a huff, “Got it?”

Weakly, you nodded, “Yea- yes, okay. Sounds good.”

“Good,” he smiled brightly. “Because remember, you’re my boy now and I like to take care of my things.”

#it's been way too long since I've written a full short story so I hope this is good enough ^^'#roman sionis #male reader #roman sionis x male reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jesse.writes

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