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vampiresbloodx · 23 days

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Older!librarian!Wanda finally takes you out on a date after being too nervous and having that doubt that you don't actually even like her the way she thought you did, you two talk all the time whenever Wanda has a break on her shift, it's her favourite part of the day, just seeing you, smiling and laughing.

She was right about you being in college. It seems you're in your last year and still have no clue on what to do with your future. Wanda can see how much stress you're in with the finals coming up, it pains her to see you like this. She'd give you the whole universe if she could.

She doesn't know why she's so interested in you, these feelings are definitely not like anything she's already experienced. She was slightly confused herself, what she actually feels towards you, but what she does know is that it's love.

Wanda wants to hold you close to her, kiss you, make you happy, make you laugh, cry, and smile. She wants to see all of it. All of you. Every inch of you.

Maybe she's been reading too many romance books and sapphic fiction.

She just wants to wake up next to you, go to sleep with you every night.

And of course, there are other sinful things she wants to do that she finds herself thinking of when she's at work, in the shower, at home, it doesn't matter where, god, the sound of your voice, the way you look at her, ignites a flame inside her that she didn't know was even there.

Wanda grew up in a pretty Christian neighbourhood. It sucked. She was so used to tradition, how everything should be, not how she feels it should be.

Then you changed her mind on it all.

With one smile.

Wanda hasn't been on a date since.... Forever. Hell she doesn't even know who it was with. It probably was pretty bad then. She has been getting used to her phone so she can text you more and call you, just to hear you speak, when she asks you out, she was expecting a humiliating rejection, but when you smiled up at her, adorably so, you accepted.

"pick me up at 8?"

You said to her.

She nodded.

"see you then."

She watches you walk away, releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding in.

Her hands were shaking, her heart hammering in her chest.

She felt like she was in highschool again.

Wanda had rushed home after her shift ended and she closed up the library for the night, she was panicking, unsure of what to wear and if she should bring wine or flowers, Wanda decided on both, and chocolate, but what if you were allergic? Dark chocolate. Or just roses.

She wore her best dress that made her feel young again, did her make up, and she felt good.

It was time to pick you up, she drove to your address that you had given her, it was a nice little apartment building she parked outside of and went to the door, pressing on the number of the button you told her to do.

"hello?"

There came your voice.

"hi, it's Wanda."

"oh hey! I'll be right down."

When she saw you, her mouth gaped open, her eyes widened, she felt so lucky, you looked gorgeous, you shy away from her gaze as she eyes you up and down, she steps closer, grabbing your hands as she kisses your knuckles.

A shiver went down your spine when you felt her lips, wanting to kiss her immediately.

"you look stunning."

Your cheeks burned.

"uh... Um, you look really beautiful too. Like really beautiful."

It was her turn to blush.

You chuckled, leaning in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, her face practically turning red.

God you don't know what you're doing to her.

She took you out to a fancy restaurant, she saw your reaction and how surprised you looked, she chuckled, enjoying the way your eyes wondered all over the place.

"ms. Maximoff?" A guy at the counter greeted her, she nodded, smiling at him.

"your table is ready" he guided the two of you to a nice private era, with a candle lit.

Once he left you spoke up.

"damn, I was not expecting this. No one has ever taken me out to a restaurant!" You gushed.

She grinned, "how come? Anyone would feel lucky enough to show you off."

You bit down on your lip.

"keep flirting with me like that we won't even last till dinner."

She laughed, shaking her head.

The dinner went perfectly, and for a surprise, she took you back to the library, where you two first met, in that same spot.

"are we allowed to be here?" You asked in a whisper.

"hon, I practically run it."

"I know but what if we get caught!" You said, standing close to her.

"we won't" she says, unlocking the door.

You both entered as she locked the door from behind so no one else could get in, you two laughing as she brought you to the same spot she first saw you, you got quiet as you remembered it exactly, she smiled, caressing your cheek with her hand as she pressing her body against yours, your back hitting the book shelves.

"you look so pretty" she cooed, "god, I want to ruin you."

You whimpered, her eyes darkening at the sound as she leans in, kissing you on the lips, your hands coming up to wrap around her neck.

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #older!wanda #more librarian!wanda hehe #stuff i wrote

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ju1cyfru1t · 8 months

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Y/N’s Guide of a Snapping Turtle Mutant

Rise! Raphael x reader

Fluff! :D gn reader, romantic leaning but can be read as platonic

In which Raph stumbles upon your documentation on himself.

Donnie Leo Mikey

∑Subject of interest

Snapping turtle mutant; large humanoid turtle man

∑ Diet:

Pizza, soup???, meats, carrots, ⚠️allergic to peanuts⚠️

∑ Likes:

Red, punching stuff? (owes me new mirror), hot (specific) soup???, wrestling, Lou Jitsu (watch movies), teddy bears (save coupons), R&B, Jupiter Jim (movies, comics, games), shell scratches, red buttons (owes me an uncracked collar bone; ask why Donnie would add sear ejectors)

∑ Dislikes:

Turtle tank (claims to be “tank-aphobic”), hurting other people’s feelings? (very sweet), “Leo’s tomfoolery” (me too, bro, me too), reading, being snuck up on

∑ Tail language 🛑 do NOT pull, subject screams very loud🛑

twitching rapidly: threatened, scared, nervous. (can smell fear on subject? should I be concerned?)

wagging: excited, happy, proud. (Turtle likes to hear he’s doing a good job)

still and loose: relaxed, confused, sad. (Subject tends to overthink; or not think enough)

——————————————————————————

Raph sighed with a big, swooning smile, setting your paper down on the counter as he finished reading it for the 5th time over. It just made him misty-eyed to see that you, someone so perfect to him, cared so much about him, a big scary mutant. (Even though he’s really not all that scary.)

It made his heartbeat quicken and his chest feel tight, but in a good way. In the best way.

Obviously he knew it wasn’t right for him to read through your personal notes, but I mean, hey. The folder had his name on it, so that basically made it his too.

Still, he didn’t want to seem like a jerk. He had to make it up to you somehow…but making his own gifts was never his strong suit. But…he could add to yours?

——————————————————————————

∑Subject of interest

Snapping turtle mutant; large humanoid turtle man

∑ Diet:

Pizza, soup??? ? I mean it’s ok, I guess., meats, carrots, ⚠️allergic to peanuts⚠️

∑ Likes:

Red, punching stuff? (owes me new mirror) Sorry. What size you want?, hot (specific) soup??? You have got to watch Lou Jitsu. , wrestling, Lou Jitsu (watch movies), teddy bears (save coupons), R&B, Jupiter Jim (movies, comics, games), shell scratches, red buttons (owes me an uncracked collar bone; ask why Donnie would add seat ejectors) I’M SORRY

∑ Dislikes:

Turtle tank (claims to be “tank-aphobic.” What does this mean?) it means exactly what it sounds like (I blame Donnie), hurting other people’s feelings? (very sweet) Who, me? Naaah, “Leo’s tomfoolery” (me too, bro, me too), reading, being snuck up on

∑ Tail language 🛑 do NOT pull, subject screams very loud🛑 WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT

twitching rapidly: threatened, scared, nervous. (can smell fear on subject? should I be concerned?) STOP TALKIN ABOUT MY FEAR STINK I TOLD YOU IT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL

wagging: excited, happy, proud. (Turtle likes to hear he’s doing a good job) Yes, he does.

still and loose: relaxed, confused, sad. (Subject tends to overthink; or not think enough) HEY. That’s …so fair.

Love you♡ IGNORE THAT IM USING A PEN I CAN’T ERACE ERASE

——————————————————————————

AHHHHHHH 4/4

I HOPE THIS IS AS GOOD AS THE OTHER 3 <3

sorry this took a hot second

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rottmnt x reader #tmnt #rise leo #rise mikey #rise raph #rottmnt #rise raph x reader #rise raphael #rise raphael x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt raph x reader #raphael #raphael x reader #raph x reader #tmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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charlie-lec-stories · 4 months

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Good enough // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Max is not always the confident man he looks like.

Warnings: Self-esteem issues, some dark thoughts, talks about eating disorders.

Author’s Note: Men can also suffer from low self-esteem and body insecurities. Rate: +16 (inappropriate language)

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She always slept in the middle and Max was okay with that, because even though he loved to cuddle Charles, he was a living heater, like Max. Y/N was like an ice cube and it was great to have her in the middle, cooling them down. Watching her peaceful face in the morning was also a plus. That was the sight he found that morning, her laying face up, her lips slightly parted, Charles half on top of her, his nose buried on the crook of her neck and his left arm over her protectively, his fingers brushing Max's middle. The Monegasque was snoring softly, the noise muffled by Y/N's collarbones. As always, Charles was shirtless, it was impossible for him to rest well with clothes and it wasn't like the Dutchman or their girl would complain about it. On the contrary, she started progressively to sleep with less clothes on. Max wasn't sure when it happened but she went from loving to trying different PJ's and seeing which one was more comfortable to sleeping in just a tank top and a pair of cotton panties. Again, there were no complaints about that. Max could never complain about seeing them with little to no clothing, they were literally the most beautiful people he had ever met.

He knew that she was perfect since the first time he laid eyes on her, while they were teenagers. He felt his breath itch just looking at her face, and when they became closer and she started hugging him more, he became addicted to the touch of her skin, soft and plush under his fingers. He could remember the first time he saw her in underwear like a core memory, they were still friends and he had never felt so guilty for anything as he felt for his thoughts that night. She spent the night at his house, they both had a race the next day and her parents couldn't take her, so he offered her to stay at his house and go with him the next day. His father was less than pleased with his idea, but agreed anyway. She changed in front of him like it was the most normal thing in the world, he was her best friend and she felt safe with him, the tug of guilt he felt in his heart for looking at her like she was a whole meal still haunted him. But he thought she was breath-taking, every inch of her body was just too perfect to be real. He was seventeen at the time, so his mind went to places that he wasn't proud of, but even if he wasn't sexualizing her all the time now that they were older, he still could say that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Then there was Charles, who Max knew for a fact was the most wanted man in motorsport. People just worshiped his body like it was a whole temple and Max couldn't agree more with those people. He would definitely join a cult about Charles' body. From his cute, messy hair to his toned legs, Charles was a living Greek God and Max thanked Zeus every day for making his boyfriend figuratively allergic to wearing shirts. Summer Charles was his favorite, all hot and bothered, walking around sporting his smallest shorts and needing someone to apply sunscreen on his back three times a day. Max would always volunteer for that. But Spring Charles was also great, always wearing half buttoned shirts, chest showing teasingly. Max's second favorite was Autumn Charles, who liked to work out in compression shirts, leaving him and Y/N looking at his body the whole time they should be training. Winter Charles was less of a show off, but that doesn't mean he didn't serve... There were few sights as beautiful as the Monegasque in winter attire, with his nose reddened and smile on full display. Max could spend hours just looking at Charles sitting in front of the fire, warming up while chatting with Y/N about all of his favorite things.

He watched them both sleep for a few minutes, following the ups and downs of their chests, the covers up to Charles' hips, giving away just a peek of the navy blue panties Y/N wore that time to sleep. He felt lucky, but he also felt terrible about himself. As he got up from the bed, he sighed softly, doing the best he could to suppress the negative thoughts that tried to settle down on his mind. Walking down the hallway and towards the kitchen, he couldn't stop his body and it positioned itself in front of the mirror at the entrance of the living room. He looked at his reflection with a shy gaze, the dark shirt made him look slimmer, or at least he told himself that. The deep breath he took was shaky and when his hands moved to his hips, the hem of it tensed, highlighting a little roll on his lower belly. He looked away disgusted, his hands falling back down by his sides and walked quickly to the kitchen to start breakfast. He focused on his Stroopwafels, he wanted them to be ready before Charles woke up, or else he would complain about eating in the morning and skip breakfast. His boyfriend was a disaster when it came to food, he didn't like many dishes, and the Stroopwafels were one of the few things Charles liked to eat in the morning.

Max thought about skipping breakfast and instead going for a run, burning that roll he saw in the mirror, but he knew that it was not healthy behavior. He didn't like the way he looked, he did feel ugly, but he was aware of the limits between feeling bad about himself and doing risky things to achieve the body he wanted. Still, once in a while, his low self-esteem would entertain the idea of skipping a meal or extending a training session. He didn't resent his partners for being physically perfect, but he did feel like he wasn't good enough for their perfection. He would sometimes look at them, so incredibly good-looking together, and think that he didn't look as good as he should, like he was out of place with their beauty. The fact that they loved him was important to him, he understood that they loved him for his personality and not for his looks, and he wasn't a superficial man, constantly thinking about his or other people's looks, still, he sometimes wondered what they saw in him. When he was making out with them and they felt so into it, he would ask himself once in a while how it was possible that someone like him could turn them on. It was some kind of miracle that a woman who could have any man in the world, who already had Charles fucking Leclerc would want to have sex with him, or al least that's how he felt like.

"Morning, Amor". (Love). He heard Y/N voice as her arms wrapped around him, her cheek pressed against his back. He felt her kissing his shoulder and then playfully bite him. He laughed.

"Morning, Schat. How did you sleep?". He took the last Stroopwafel out of the pan and then turned around to face her.

"Bien, but woke up around 3 am wanting to peet and went back to sleep right away because you both were squeezing me so bad that I couldn't even go to the bathroom". (Good). She pouted and then giggled, making him smirk, loved her giggles. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, her hands moving to his hair to pull at it a little, he moaned but gathered his composure back quickly.

"No funny business, no time for that". He said against her lips and she huffed. It was a Wednesday and they were all traveling to the USA for the triple-header.

"It won't take too long, I promise". She dragged her hands down his torso, he loved every second of that, until she reached the hem of his shirt and her fingers touched the skin of his lower belly. He grew self conscious fast and then pushed her hands away. She looked at him worried, not for him not wanting to have sex but for him to refuse her touch as if it was burning him. He had those reactions once in a while and it always made her wonder what was wrong, but he never seemed open to talk about it.

"I just don't want us to be late, Schat". He quickly lied and she let it slide. He kissed her again, just to let her know that they were good. They heard Charles' footsteps and the conversation died there.

In Austin, they were gratefully surprised with the fact that they were staying all in the same hotel, which meant that they could share a room all five nights. Charles and Y/N didn't even bother on settling down in their rooms, knowing that they weren't spending a second there, instead, they took their suitcases to Max's room and then plopped down on the bed. Max was still acting weird, he barely let them cuddle him on the plane, didn't ramble about anything and then just went straight to the shower, taking his sweet time there. Charles, even though he had been close to Max for less time, also picked up on his strange behavior. They knew that Max was allowed to have bad days and be moody, but these episodes were different from being moody. He looked sad, like the spark he usually had suddenly lacked power. The two talked about it, wondering what could have happened and how to bring up the subject to Max without scaring him off. The last thing they wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable or pressured to open up about something he wasn't ready. Once he walked out of the bathroom, completely dressed to bed, they made themselves comfortable and drifted off.

"You look stunning today, Y/N". Max heard one of the reporters say while they were all on the media pan. Max suppressed an eye-roll, she always looked great and someone always had to point it out. He was a little jealous, but the fact that he had felt particularly bad about himself the last few days didn't help.

"Thank you". She said with a tight grin, she wasn't a fan of physical compliments, she would rather people calling her a good driver instead. The reporter proceeded with his question about her good Qualifying that afternoon and she then gave him a complete answer with her feedback about the track and the car. He watched her talk, the way her hands moved as she explained something, her lips that did the best they could as she struggled with her pronunciation and how her nose scrunched when she talked about the least things she liked about the track.

"Max". He turned around to look at Charles, the Monegasque discreetly leading him to an empty room when the media pan was over. "Are you alright, babe?".

"Yeah, sure". He tried to play it cool, but the concerned look on Charles' eyes was making it really hard.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't looked fine for a few days now". Max knew what he meant, he knew that Charles was talking about his mood, but Max couldn't help but associate Charles' words to his body."I know I don't look fine, I'll do better". He walked out of the room, leaving Charles even more confused than before.

Austin went terribly for Charles and Y/N, both of them ending up disqualified after the race, the Ferrari driver losing a P6 and the Mercedes a podium. Max had won and still he didn't feel any better, so the mood back in the room wasn't the best. "Couples that get disqualified together, stay together" was the caption that their PR managers decided to use when they posted their joint post about the FIA's decision. Max looked at the picture over and over again, even sad they looked nice. Or maybe it was him that loved them so much that was unable to see a single defect in them. He didn't care, they were perfect in his eyes, and he wasn't good enough, no matter how much he could win. The next stop was Mexico and Max was already in a bad mood to also having to deal with Checo's fans. He got the chance to share his podium with Charles and Y/N there and that made everything a little bit better, but watching their pictures online, the three of them together was painful. And to top it, between Mexico and Brazil, Y/N trended on Twitter when a particularly good picture of her after the race "broke the internet". She was being called the most beautiful woman of motorsport, and it was all too much for Max.

Charles walked inside the room with his spare key, they were both at the same hotel in Brazil and Y/N staying just a block away, to find Max on the bed. His knees were all the way up to his chest and Charles could see that he was crying, thanks to the shaky movement of his back. With soft steps, he walked to the bed and sat down next to Max, placing his hand atop his shoulder and squeezing. The sob that the Dutchman let out broke Charles' heart in a million pieces. He quickly pulled out his phone and sent a short text to his girlfriend, requesting her presence, then he got into bed with Max, pulling him to his chest and letting him cry as much as he needed. Y/N arrived 20 minutes later, having to work her way through some PR duties before she could be free. Max was a lot more calm when she made it there, her two boyfriends resting on the bed, while Charles moved his hands up and down Max's back. The Ferrari driver looked up when he heard her walk in and they shared a look before she sat down at the other side of Max and ran her fingers through his blonde locks. She saw him let out a sigh and then a few more tears fell down his cheeks.

"Amor, what is it?". She spoke as gently as she could, not wanting to startle him. "Please, we want to help, Max".

"You can't. I'm the problem, not you". His voice was hoarse, the crying taking a toll on his throat.

"You're not a problem, Max. What are you saying?". Charles was almost offended at Max's comment, how could he call himself a problem when he was so darn amazing?

"Okay, we're not avoiding this anymore". She changed her tone from sweet to serious. "Both of you, sit up". They followed the order, Max resting his back against the headboard of the bed. "What's up with you?"

"Don't play dumb". Charles warned him after he saw Max was ready to straight up lie to them again. They waited patiently, and Max just looked around the room, feeling self-conscious. Their gazes were too intense and he couldn't take them.

"I've been feeling bad about myself". He whispered it, hoping that they wouldn't ask for him to repeat himself. They didn't.

"About your body?". Y/N placed a hand on his thigh as she asked the question, Max just nodded.

"But why? There's nothing wrong about you, Max". Charles made the comment so nonchalantly that Max almost laughed.

"Everything is wrong with my body!". He laughed bittersweetly as he said that, like he was amused by the fact that they didn't understand.

"Max, you're going to have to elaborate on that, because we can't see anything wrong with you". He could see that she was concerned, it wasn't just the tone of her voice, but also how hard she was pressing her hand against his tight.

"I'm ugly, so ugly. I don't even understand how you don't see it!". Charles was straight up horrified by the comment, Y/N kept a neutral face, she wanted to see where this was leading so she could fix it. "I'm fat and my face is not pretty or anything like that. Clothes don't fit me right and I look terrible in pictures".

"This stupid, you're saying stupid things". Charles couldn't believe what he was hearing and the string of French curses he let out after his comment just proved further that he was not agreeing with Max's perspective of himself. Y/N was more concerned about Max fat-shaming himself, as if gaining weight was something bad or even him getting fatter was true, considering he was a pretty fit guy. They had a long journey of self-love ahead.

"Charlie, you're not helping". She tried to calm him down, but Charles was angry.

"He's saying stupid stuff! How can he say that?!". Max stayed quiet. "Anyone would kill to be you, you're fucking perfect!".

"What?". That took Max by surprise. He had called them perfect for so much time that he felt the term foreign when it was directed towards himself.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Max". He turned to look at Y/N, she moved her hand from his leg to his face, running her thumb over his cheekbone. "We think you're amazing, perfect".

"But why? You're both so good-looking!". He couldn't believe it. "How could you think that of me looking like you guys do?"

"This is stupid". Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Looks like "stupid" is the word of the day". That made Max laugh softly, she smiled and shifted her position on the bed to sit on his lap. "I love your smile, I love it even more when it reaches your eyes because they look even better".

"You make it sound like he's doing it himself, it's easy for his eyes to look great when he has those eyes''. Charles was being actually useful with his angry comebacks.

"I also said that I love his smile".

"He has the whitest, most perfect teeth on Earth, you could turn off the lights and still find him if he smiles". Max smiled at that, looking at the frowning Charles that huffed and kept cursing in French. Y/N grabbed Max's face and made him look at her.

"We love you, Max. Not just the fact that you're an incredible person or a generational talent driving cars. I love looking at you and I love having sex with you". He blushed, she giggled. "I'm not sure where this idea of you being ugly came from, but I can assure you that you're extremely handsome and hot to me".

"Of course he is! Mon Dieu, thinking he's ugly... Simply stupid". (My God).

"He agrees". Max properly laughed this time. She kissed him, pressing herself against him to make him feel her heartbeat. They broke apart after a moment, both needing to breathe. "I know that getting those thoughts out of your head is not easy, but please, if you ever, ever think about yourself like that again, tell us. I promise you, we will prove you wrong".

"Really?".

"Yes, really. We love you, even when you talk stupid".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you guys like it!! Happy New Year everyone, and have a great 2024.

#charles leclerc imagine #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

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luveline · 4 months

Note

hii lovely can i request miguel x spidergirl or tasm!peter x reader where is too shy to ask for something directly and miguel/peter keeps pretending that he is oblivious to tease her? thank you <33

When Miguel talks, his cheek distends, and the pen smudge gets longer. You look at it for the tenth time in as many minutes, wanting to wipe it away, but quick to bring your gaze back to your desk.

“You did it again,” he says.

You bite the tip of your tongue, pretending you haven't heard. The schematic in front of you flickers a warm orange against the yellow screen, but the lines won't register in your head.

“How's that blueprint coming?” he asks.

“It's fine.” You click the file button at the top of the screen to save your progress. File already saved.

“Need help?”

You shake your head, clicking on the next tab. If you weren't distracted by his stupid high cheekbones and the strange mark of ink slinking beneath it like a wonky heart, you'd be finished by now. You're quick. Miguel knows this, and he clearly finds your pace strange, coming to stand next to you to check your progress.

“What's wrong with that?” he asks, the heat of his arm warming your own despite the layers between them. “Render it, print it.”

“I need....” You draw a circle in the air around the measurements that are bugging you.

“I see. Let me.” He leans around you to click on your elevated screen. His fingers pinch a spring, reroute a wire, and before long he's fit everything together neatly, ready for rendering.

“Miguel,” you say.

“Yeah?”

Closer now than he had been, it's even harder to tell him than before. Not because it's oh so difficult, not because you think he'll be embarrassed. Not even because you've drawn it out. You're reluctant to tell him because you really want to ask to wipe it off. You want to take his face into your hand and clean the mark away with a tender touch, but Miguel is allergic to being taken care of.

“You…”

“I,” he prompts, meeting your eyes. Confusion draws his brow together.

“Would you…”

“What?” he asks.

“You have– Can I?” You raise your hand but stutter to a stop when he doesn't move to accommodate your touch.

“Can you what?” he asks quietly.

“You have a pen mark.” You have to try very, very hard to keep your voice steady. “Can I get it for you?”

“Oh, I do?” His voice gives it away —that slight humorous fry, like he's smirking and sorry at once. He'd known you had something to say, might have guessed what you wanted ten minutes ago.

“You're such a jerk.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. Would you?”

You wipe at the pen line until it's smudged away, ink warmed by your finger and spread into transparency. He stays still as a statue for the entire ordeal, and he doesn't gloat, but something akin to smugness remains even when you've declared it, “Gone.”

“Thank you.” He just stands there looking at you for a while. “Sorry. I was teasing.”

You roll your head down into your shoulder. “Yeah, I know.”

“So shy… Render your schematic, then, and I'll give you a nice thank you.”

“I don't think so.”

“I won't tease anymore.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, his big huge hand, all encompassing and so, so warm. Your skin prickles and recovers as his thumb digs into the muscle that bridges the skin between your neck and shoulder, never cruel, but rough all the same. “I swear. This is good work.”

You sigh. “Thanks, Miguel.”

He lifts his chin ever so slightly. “You're welcome, cariño.”

It's worse than being teased, but in a new, somehow more mortifying way.

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tetsutits · 1 year

Note

rindou + cockwarming /.\

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — rindou h. x fem!reader

ᰔ cockwarming, teasing, so sorry this took so long! enjoy <3

“what’d you do today?”

it’s a simple question, really. laced with fatigue and dripping with honey. rindou’s fingertips dance over your bare thighs, sneaking over the soft skin as you straddle his lap facing him.

“i, umm,” you swallow, shifting uncontrollably in his hold, the tips of his fingers send tingles up your spine, making you shudder and tense your muscles. “‘went out to that, the um, cute cat cafe i told you about,”

he hums, sitting, completely relaxed and laid back with his eyes half lidded with affection.

subtly, but not so subtly because he can see the reactions clear on your face, his hands wander up your thighs and to your behind, resting them right over your ass. he doesn’t try to grope, or to make it sexual, or do anything that might hint at his neediness.

he doesn’t need to – not when you’re practically squirming on his cock.

the wetness seeps out of your sweet pussy and down his dick, even down his achey balls. he feels you spasm and squeeze uncontrollably around him, but he refuses to give in to the burning desire inside him. just this once, he wants to relax, just like this, have a nice talk about your day because he could listen to your sweet voice for hours upon hours — while you whimper and whine between your words on his throbbing cock.

it’s almost mean, no — it’s so mean. you look at him with pleading eyes, ‘please just fuck me,’ they say, silently begging him to rub your clit till you’re dizzy and crying.

but he doesn’t. he just watches. like an attentive hawk as he pets and strokes you so lovingly.

“then what?” he says, voice low.

you look away, feeling your face heat up and breaths coming out in labored pants. “walked in the park, had some really good ice cream, too,” you breathe, “i really missed mina. it was, was nice to see her.”

your hands tense around his shoulders, creasing his pristine suit. they trail down to where his tie sits loose around his neck, to where the first three buttons are undone and the seductive tattoos peek out, almost teasing. beckoning you to undo the rest of them and explore the expanse of his chest.

rindou takes a sip of his bourbon, eyes and attention stuck on you as you speak. he absolutely eats up the way you just try to keep your whines in, the way you force yourself to keep still and finish your sentence. you’re too cute, he could just eat you right up.

“that’s all?”

“no-! no,” you lighten up, a little smile on your lips, “‘wish you were there. but you’re allergic to cats.” you roll your eyes.

“brat.” he pinches your ass playfully.

you squeal, “no, seriously rin! who the hell can be so allergic to those cute babies?”

he knows you’re joking. time and time again, teasing him because he can’t handle a little fur baby in the apartment you two share.

suddenly, catching you completely off guard, he thrusts up into your core, sinking his cock impossibly deeper inside you. almost like payback to your teasing words.

“i-! oh, rin,” a little furrow in your brow, face burning up with the sweat building on your temples. he can see the way you try to fight the tension.

“if you wanna be a cocky brat,” he says, pulling you flush against his chest, faces close enough that you almost share the same breath; you look into his violet eyes that leave you lovestruck and needy, “i’ll show you what cocky brats deserve.”

his hands slide down under your ass, gripping the flesh hard. silently, you look at him, and you can tell just by the look on his face, that you’ll both be having a very, very long night.

you can’t say you’re mad about it.

#rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x you #tr smut #rindou smut #my work

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Text

dress

this is my first time writing for anyone so… i guess we’ll see how it goes. reader and jamie are getting ready for a fancy dinner/benefit thing. it’s cute, a little swearing, no angst. allusion to sex but that’s it. i wrote this mostly for myself because there’s an appalling lack of jamie tartt fics. anyway.

dress

It is 3pm, and you have to leave in an hour and a half to make it to the annual benefit. Jamie goes every year, but this is your first. You had been talking to Keeley about it, lamenting your inability to pick something to wear, when she grabs your arm and says, “Don't worry about it babes! We can pick one out together.”

“Keeley, I’d love too, but I’m absolutely swamped with work. My forty hours are filled with clients, so my free time is basically all notes and treatment plans. That's why I’ve ghosted pretty much everyone except you and Jamie.”

“It's pretty much just Jamie at this point,” she says mischievously. “I’m not sure we would have made it to coffee if we hadn’t made these plans three weeks ago, especially because you didn’t even tap back to that pun I sent that Ted made the other day.”

You laugh. “I suppose you’re right. I am sorry, it’s just been so much work, what with taking on that new case and wrapping up that other one-“

“Like I said babes, don’t worry about it,” she says sympathetically. Her hand is still on your arm. “I totally understand what it’s like bein’ a young woman in business, yeah? We'll talk when it slows down.”

You take breath and nod. You both sit in silence for a moment, and then (because it’s Keeley and she is allergic to silence): “What if I took Jamie with me??”

You look at her, confused.

“What if I took Jamie with me to pick you out a dress? I know fashion and he knows you, and I think between the two of us we could pick out something absolutely fantabulous! What do you say? I can text him right now.”

Keeley's practically vibrating from excitement, and you know for absolute certain if you say yes, they are going to come home with something the price of your first apartment. You also know they’ll bring you coffee on the way back so really, is there any option other than yes?

——

“No, you can’t see.”

Jamie has a large, nondescript bag that he is holding very tightly and an iced coffee that he is holding less tightly. You swoop in on the coffee as Keeley chimes in with: “It’s a surprise babes. You can’t see it until the benefit.”

Jamie points to her with his bag hand. “See? She agrees.”

You squint at Keeley. “This is why I hate it when you two hang out. You get together, you make plans to torture me and sure, you bring me coffee, but god at what cost?”

Jamie and Keeley are giggling like a pair of kids as you stand, still doing your best to glare and drink your latte. They do this every time, come up with some scheme because they think it’s funny when you get “upset.” It’s like a ritual. They go shopping, spend an inordinately long time, bring you coffee to appease you, and then purposely push your buttons. They feed off of each other like a pair of weird siblings and you love it. They both can tell when you’re too tightly wound and take it upon themselves to get you to laugh. Jamie waggles the bag under your nose which makes you crack a smile as Keeley cheers. “See, I knew you loved us babe. Or at least, I knew you loved me. Jury's still out on what you think of Jamie.”

That brings a full-on laugh as Keeley dances around the kitchen.

“You staying for dinner, Keels?” you ask, although you already know the answer.

“What are you making?” she asks, Jamie behind her mouthing in unison. You suppress the urge to giggle.

“Caprese salad, pesto chicken and pasta, and Thai tea limeade. Oh, plus I made those tiny baguettes you like and Jamie, I put your tea into smoothie form. Got spinach and all that.”

“Hm,” she says, finger to her chin and head tilted. Jamie mimics her. “I suppose that I can stay. Just this once though, and not very long.”

You smile and Jamie comes around the counter to kiss you.

“I’m going to hide this,” he holds up the bag and points a finger at you “you don’t go looking for it.” He turns to Keeley, “You distract her.”

Keeley stayed her usual short amount of time, a mere six hours, giving you and Jamie a solid four hours of sleep until he has to train.

——

You shake yourself from your reverie as you reach for the dress bag. You unzip it to find something metallic with power shoulders and long sleeves, and are those little spines all over? It is long and black, yet somehow also purple and red. It is, in a word, hideous. You cannot reconcile what you see in front of you with the fact that both Keeley and Jamie picked it out, because they have never failed before, so maybe it looks better on? You sigh and begin to undress.

——

It is not better.

You go to find Jamie, looking fit in a cream hoodie and bubblegum pink suit, who takes one look and begins uncontrollably laughing.

——

“Jaim, listen. Jamie-” you’re cut off as Jamie doubles over in laughter. You’re laughing too as you catch his arms. “Babe- you can’t, you cannot leave me like this. How am I supposed to go the benefit like this? I look like a goth puffer fish!”

Jamie has collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles, taking you with him.

“I- I’m- it-“ he gasps, “it’s so much worse- it’s so much worse than I thought it was going to be!”

You stop mid-giggle. “I’m sorry, it’s what?”

Jamie has laughed himself near tears as he holds your waist.

“Listen. Babe. You are not allowed to be mad at me. But. I may have let Keeley pick out that dress because- because,” he shushes you as you begin to protest, “I knew you would hate it, and you had nothing else to wear, and therefore you would have to wear the one that I got you.”

Your face goes through an inhuman amount of expressions as you process everything he just said, until you land on- “you bought me a dress on your own?”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Suddenly Jamie looks incredibly shy. “Look, babe. I love your style, but the thing is, you like to play it safe.”

You frown, and Jamie holds up both his hands.

“Listen. You play your version of safe, but I think if you gave it a chance, you could expand your repertoire and we can be remembered as the hottest fuckin’ couple alive. Plus, it’s definitely way better than that horrid thing Keeley got.”

You’re distracted by his correct use of the word repertoire, and all of a sudden you don’t care about wearing the dress anymore. All you can think is that you want it off and that ridiculous, handsome pink suit should come off too, and maybe it would be better if you both were on the bed than on the floor.

Before you can develop this thought further, Jamie is getting up and pulling you with him.

“C’mon, wait till you see it,” he says, maneuvering you out of the bedroom and into a guest room of all places.

“I had to put it somewhere you wouldn’t see it,” he explains.

All the breath has left your lungs as you look at the dress on the bed.

Jamie has purchased a short, lime-green, tulle halter-neck dress with a fluffy train in the back. It's your dream dress. The one you used to look at as a high schooler, a college student; the one that you dreamt of being able to justify; the one you told Jamie about exactly once, and yet somehow, somehow it is right in front of you in your house.

Jamie’s arms snake around your waist, lips against your neck. “Do you like it?” he murmurs into your skin. You smile at that and turn to put your arms around him.

“Do I like it?” you grin, “Jamie Tartt, you wonderful, beautiful, thoughtful boy, I love it. How on earth did you remember?”

Jamie smiles back, arrogance clearly written across his expression. “You think I’m beautiful?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s what you got from this you prick? I want to know how you remembered? I mentioned this dress once and somehow, it’s sitting right in front of me because you got it for me.”

Jamie is still grinning. “Tell me how beautiful you think I am, and I’ll tell you how I remembered.”

Your face hurts from so much laughter. “Jamie, you beautiful, beautiful man. I love your hair, your eyes, your smile, your lips, your-” you are cut off by his lips on yours.

“Get changed, yeah? Then I’ll tell you.” You kiss him one more time, then he’s out the door.

——

You hear Jamie clattering around in the kitchen as you put on your shoes. You re-touch your lips and hair, then you’re on your way down the stairs.

“Hi babe,” you say to Jamie’s back, fiddling with the coffee machine.

You’ve never had someone look at you the way Jamie is looking at you now. It's the way you look at a good piece of chocolate cake: with a little bit of reverence, and the desire to devour. You forget to blink for over a minute, trapped in his gaze.

He breathes out a single, “Holy fuck,” as he walks toward you and spins you off the bottom step. “you look fuckin’ amazing.”

“How did you know?” you ask, for what feels like the hundredth time.

Jamie sets you down on your bubblegum pink heels. “Easy. That was when I first realized I loved ya.”

Your face heats up. “You… realized you loved me… when I was rambling on about a dress I’ve wanted since high school? That was your moment?”

Jamie’s hands are still around your waist, your hands on his biceps. The room is pleasantly spinning a little bit, and a family of butterflies has taken up residence in your stomach. God, all this time with this boy and he still has the ability to make you feel like a giddy teen with a crush.

“Well, yeah babe, kinda obvious why, innit?” You scrunch your nose in confusion as he continues, “I realized you were talking to me like a real person, as Jamie Tartt, human, not Jamie Tartt the footballer. I felt all weird, so I talked to Keeley about it. Called her on the way home that night. After she finished laughing, she told me I was probably in love with you. Hearing it out loud made me realize she was right.”

The words are barely out of his mouth and you’re kissing him again, pulling him closer and closer until the moment is broken with a ding from Jamie’s phone. It's Dani, asking if you can pick him up on your way. Jamie ushers you out the door and into the car, and for a singular, spectacular moment, everything is perfect.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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formula-nyoom · 20 hours

Note

Hello hello hope you are swell 🩵 I see you do platonic drivers 👀👀

Could it be possible to request a platonic! Reader who is a younger sister (that is also a driver, any team) to a driver of your choice who is given either a drink or meal before going on the race and getting a severe allergic reaction. Like rushed to the hospital asap reaction please 🥺

A/N: The only thing I’m allergic to is bullshit(and mosquitoes), so I don’t know what it’s like to have an allergic reaction to food. Hopefully I wrote this ok but do let me know if there are things I need to change. I decided to keep this as a blurb only because it's so similar to the last oneshot I wrote and I went with Oscar for this one

~~~

“Shouldn’t they be back by now with our drink bottles refilled?” Your teammate asked as you looked over some data. The race was set to start in just under an hour and the matter your teammate was more concerned about is the assistant that had gone to refill both your drink bottles rather than look over data with you.

“They only left a minute ago. I know you’re used to everything going fast but they’re not a race car.”

“Well they better be back soon with my energy drink. I have to drink one before every race. Helps with my performance.” Your teammate said. You just rolled your eyes.

The assistant soon came back with both your drink bottles refilled. You thanked them and took it. As you were about to take a swig, your phone vibrated with a text from your brother, Oscar.

Papaya-Bro: Chit chat before the race?

More often than not, you and Oscar would find each other in your respective drivers rooms to talk before the race. It was a small amount of time where the two of you would talk about anything but racing, giving the two of you a sense of peace before you had to face the chaos of Formula One. You sent him a text that you were on your way over and made your way to the McLaren garage. Some of the McLaren workers waved at you as you walked in, having gotten used to you making appearances in the garage to see your brother.

“Mom wants to know what she should cook for dinner when we come back home.” Oscar said, looking down at his phone while sitting in a chair.

“I’ve been craving her meatloaf for the past couple days. Ask her if she'll make that.” You said, taking a sip from your drink bottle. Your face scrunched up in disgust as you tasted something that wasn’t water on your tongue. You ended up swallowing whatever it was you just drank as your first reflex was to gag at the taste of whatever you consumed. It was sour, with a hint of fruitiness.

“What’s wrong?” Oscar asked.

“This isn’t water.” You said, handing him your drink bottle. “Taste this for me.”

You gagged again and then started to cough as Oscar took a swig of the mysterious drink.

“Yea, that’s not water.” He said. “It’s got a–”

“--fruity taste.” You started to cough more violently while trying to gasp for breath. Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself as you struggled to breath.

Oscar didn’t have time to figure out exactly what the drink was. He was able to guess what was in it though as he witnessed you starting to have a severe allergic reaction to whatever the mysterious drink was.

“I need medical assistance!” He called out into the hallway, hoping anyone heard him. Oscar quickly opened the front pocket of his backpack that always carried the spare epipen and grabbed it. By now you had gotten down to the floor, still struggling to breathe. Kneeling down in front of you, Oscar steadied the orange tip over your outer thigh, before having it make contact with the fabric of your race suit. He pushed the auto inject button till he heard the click. He then looked down at his watch to watch the seconds go by.

“One…two…three…”Oscar then removed the epipen and checked to see if it went in. But to his horror, there was no puncture hole from the needle. Of course race suits that were designed to keep a driver safe from getting burned or injured in a crash can prevent a needle from going through the fabric.

“I NEED SERIOUS MEDICAL ASSISTANCE!” Oscar yelled again. This time someone seemed to have heard him as a McLaren worker came in with a medic right behind them.

“She’s having an allergic reaction! The epi pen didn’t puncture through the race suit!”

The medic took out a pair of scissors and an epi pen before they started quickly cutting the pant leg of your race suit and fire proofs. Once the material was cut away enough to reveal the skin of your upper thigh, the medic didn’t hesitate in administering the epipen, which successfully went through this time. Oscar helped steady the pen while the medic put an oxygen mask over your face to help you breathe while the medicine worked its way through your system.

Eventually you were able to breathe again and your throat no longer felt like it was closing up. But you and Oscar both knew that you couldn’t just hop in the car and race. You’d have to be taken to the hospital to make sure whatever allegens you had consumed were fully out of your system. Oscar made sure one of the McLaren personnel went over to your team garage to inform your team that you had an allergic reaction and could no longer race today, before he helped you up off the floor and handed you off to the medical staff.

“Kick their asses for me.” You said to Oscar before leaving, your voice raspy from coughing.

“Will do.” He promised.

~~~

Oscar was a bit rattled throughout the race because of what had taken place just before it. That wasn’t the first time he had to administer an epipen for you, he’s seen you have allergic reactions before. But the fact that it didn’t work the first time is what really freaked him out. But knowing that you were ok and breathing was enough for him to score P3. And the fact that he beat your teammate seemed to make you happy so Oscar took that as a win.

“Because I saved your life today, can you let me freely pass you during the next race and defend me from the people behind?” Oscar asked as he drove you home from the hospital.

“You didn’t save my life. The medical staff did.” You said, playing with the medical band around your wrist.

“I attempted to! If our race suits weren’t made so tough to protect us from crashes, you wouldn’t have needed to be rushed here.”

“That’s kinda a big flaw with the race suits. They can protect us from fiery crashes but prevent someone from administering an epi pen.” You noted.

“I’ll talk with the FIA tomorrow to propose new safety regulations so race suits have to be made so a giant needle can break through the fabric. I’m sure that will go over well with the other drivers.” Oscar joked. Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from yours and Oscar’s manager.

“Mark just texted me. Apparently the energy drinks my teammate has before every race are now banned from the garage. Turns out it’s got lychee in it.” You told your brother.

“Honestly they should have been banned from the start to prevent what happened today.” Oscar said. You nodded in agreement.

“So you’re not going to let me pass during the next race?” Oscar asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Only if you defend me from my teammate if they end up behind you. Which is often.”

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x sister!reader #platonic grid x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months

Note

Are request still open if not ignore me,

Carmy x y/n , so carmy wanna propose and wanted make it perfect like every ingredients for the proposal dinner is best of the best, burt he was so stressed that he just forget that y/n I allergic to one ingredients .

Allergic

It was supposed to be a calm and peaceful evening. Carmen had been planning for it for what felt like ages. He was going to propose. Finally. After keeping the ring he had gotten to you in his sock drawer for months. Well, Carmy was sure he was going to marry you after your first date, that was solid five years ago. But things kept coming up. Or he would chicken out last minute. Or the moment just didn't end up feeling right.

At first, he was sure he wanted to make it big. Fly you out somewhere finally. Do the whole walking down the beach during a sunset nonsense. But it wasn't you two. Nothing about that screamed you. You and your friends offended joked that you two were a seventy-year-old couple. Opting almost always to stay back and enjoy the comfort of your home then go out till unholy hours.

So, now Carmen found himself in the kitchen of the three-room apartment. In a button-up shirt that he never wore at home before but it only felt fitting to do so now. The dining table was already prepared. A bottle of wine standing on it. Candles were lit throughout the place. Not to mention that Carmen had bought you the biggest bouquet of red roses he could find.

It was odd but he found himself almost unable to chop the onions the way he always did. His hands were shaking. He was so lost in himself that it was shocking that he hadn't burnt the whole building down, or cut himself in the process. Everything was slowly coming together. Carmen glanced at the clock - you would be home any minute. He tapped his back pocket. Something he had been doing all evening. Just to make sure that the ring hadn't disappeared magically.

His thoughts were cut short as he heard the sound of your keys dangling. His nerves picked up even more. What if he would mess up his words? What if you thought this wasn't even? Fuck, should he have flown you out somewhere? Paris? Women love Paris, right? And now... now you would say no and he... Carmen felt your hands sneaking around his middle as you pressed yourself against his back.

"What's all of this now?", you muttered, the warmth of your boyfriend's back making you let out a happy sigh, "Are we waiting for someone? Shit, did I forget something...", you breathed out, pulling away. A light frown forms, before Carmen shakes his head as he cups your cheek, "No, just us. It's been a while since we had a date night". You glanced around. Gosh, this man never failed to surprise you. You bit your lip, shaking your head slightly, "You went all out... Have you done something and now are trying to lessen the consequences?", you looked at him suspiciously. Carmen had once baled your eclairs just so later on when he brought out your shrunken sweater frowning would fall flat. He laughed, "Yeah, we will have to talk about it...", you gasped, "Oh, no, you have done something". Both of you snickered.

The evening was beautiful. The main meal was superior as always. The conversation was easy. It was surprising how even after five years together you two still made one another giddy and crimson red. Or how the way Carmen slowly rubbed your knuckles as you spoke made you feel so much joy. Time wasn't a concept you two could grasp when you were together so you weren't sure what time it was when Carmen had brought out the dessert. He said something about how he wanted to try something new since this was a special evening.

You had barely eaten a couple of bites when Carmen suddenly lowered his spoon and pushed his chair back. Your eyes were now on him as he stepped to the side of the table. "What are you...", but you didn't get to finish your sentence as he sank to one knee. "My love", Carmen breathed out and your hand instantly came to rest on your mouth. "I've been wanting... No, I... I just knew that I was going to marry you for ages", Carmen shook his head, "You were always going to be my one and only". You bit the inside of your cheek fighting your own emotions when a tickling sensation started to a ticking sensation in your throat.

"I know that I'm not perfect but you make me want to be better", Carmen continued, just the itching increased and you found yourself coughing slightly. Your chest feels tight all of a sudden. "I know it's a lot to ask but will you...", Carmen got cut off by another caught as your hand reached for your throat, "Y/N?", his tone sounded worried. You felt your eyes getting itchy too, nose starting to run. You glanced back at the table, "Epipen", you breathed out and Carmen's face ran white. No, surely he couldn't have put something you were allergic to into the meals. He knew the whole list of products you couldn't have and he... then it hit him. The nut flower he got. He didn't double-check the back. And it wasn't the usual kind he bought, because the store had run out of it. "Fuck", he cursed under his breath as she rushed back to you EpiPen in hand. "Breath in for me", he said without a second thought, "Fuck, that's stupid shit to say, sorry, fuck, love", he was a mess now. Lord, and he wanted to marry you? He caused you a whole ass allergic reaction. Pressing the tip of the pen to your thigh Carmen waited for the clicking sound. Your face had gotten puffy. He knew the injection would help but the moment he saw your breathing evening out, he rushed to grab his car keys to bring you to the hospital.

The extra pills to reduce the allergic reactions caused you to fall asleep while the doctors finished running the final exams. They had put the oxygen mask on you just in case. But all of this looked like the worst nightmare to Carmen. It's because of his stupidity that you were here. He sat in the chair beside you. Richie was blowing up his phone. He knew that Carmen was going to propose and when he didn't get a single response on how it went he grew worried and well... rightfully so.

Carmen heard rustling in the bed, his eyes snapping to you instantly. You were blinking slowly. Carmen leaned closer to brush his fingers over your forehead. You reached up to lower the oxygen mask but Carmen caught your hand, "I don't think it's good...", "Yes", you murmured. Carmen looked at you for a minute, "Yes". He shook his head not understanding what you meant exactly. "Yes, what love?", he said softly. "Yes, to marrying you", you muttered, "Since I don't remember saying that". Carmen let out choked-out chuckles, "I think you should say no, considering that I put you in a hospital". You frowned at his words, "We will have a great story to tell to our kid". Carmen met your eyes, debating something for a moment. He reached into his back pocket, and grabbed the velvet box, snapping the lid open. You gasped at the sight of the ring. It was perfect. Perfect. Although you couldn't imagine finding anything less than perfect when it came from Carmen.

"So, even after I nearly killed you, Y/N Y/L/N will you do me an honor and be my wife?", Carmen said softly, words barely a whisper. You nodded quickly, "I will, no matter what", you smiled at him sweetly, before a shortness of breath hit you and you quickly lifted the oxygen mast to your nose. Carmen frowned, but still moved to put the ring on your finger. "God, I feel like such an idiot...", he shook his head, "Ei... at least I can say that I got proposed to in a hospital. That's unique in my books", you snickered, "Don't you freaking joke about it", Carmen pointed a finger at you, yet he himself had a light smile on his face. Relieved now that you seemed to be feeling better.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #the bear #the bear x reader #the bear x you #the bear imagine #the bear tv show

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blackopals-world · 8 months

Note

Oh, okay, I see! Umm. I have a couple things to throw out, that also have my own thoughts and I was also thinking of other possible Yuu ideas if you’re interested in them( just what their “!” Is for and personality, not who they’re matched with) and up to hearing about them. Uh. This ask though is for the creature post and-

Me, a person who loves mythology and folklore: My time has come-

Theatre kid!Yuu as a changeling(or some other shapeshifting creature, I know of the background surrounding changelings and can understand why one may be uncomfortable with changelings(I am also the ✨neurodivergent✨))

Harpy!Yuu as a Manananggal(I know that harpies are already mythical creatures, but think about it)

Maid!Yuu as a Brownie (yes, you read that right, though it can also be spelt “broonie” or “brùnaidh” and they are a type of fae, but ,ah)

Special Forces!Yuu as a Grim Reaper(I just think it’d be neat if their role was to guide and protect the dead on the way to the afterlife instead of being what people usually expect/think of reapers, and also because they themself are often depicted as scary and dangerous, and they are, but they more so just. Guide souls to the after)

Vet!Yuu OR Marine Biologist!Yuu as a Selkie(I want them to go on a rant of how selkies are NOT half seal half human, their lower body is NOT that of a seal!(this is my being frustrated by Selkie designs that aren’t actually selkies, but the art is still really good/nice))

Oookay, that’s all of them that I had prepared. Uh. And of course, these are just suggestions, you don’t have to add anything if you don’t want to or you can pick and choose which you’re interested, I hope this isn’t coming off as forced and I apologize if it does-

🎭Theater Kid!Yuu- Shapeshifter

The ultimate actor.

Can play any role and use any voice.

They spend time endlessly rehearsing.

Likes to play pranks by pretending to be an injured animal to have people take care of them.

Allergic to iron.

Will not use their powers responsibly

They don't consider any one form their true form. They simply are.

Agender icon.

"What's gender? Is it edible?"

🧹 Maid!Yuu- Brownie

Got inside after someone left a bowl of cream out

They set up shop and began cleaning at night.

During the day they hide out in the form of a dormouse.

They have a fuzzy tail

They fix up broken items. You might find an extra mismatched button on your shirts.

Don't leave a mess on purpose. It's impolite.

If they feel taken advantage of they with make a mess and leave.

Leave out a treat for them and they will reward you in kind.

You'll never lose an item again. It will appear just where you remember it. Unfortunately, that always the last place you look.

🔫Special Forces!Yuu-Reaper

It's hard work and the coworkers are the worst.

One of the many reapers tasked with dealing with the recently deceased.

Really prickly due to being constantly tasked with the most stubborn ghosts.

"Shut up before I kill you again!"

Believes Sam was a Reaper (is he? Possibly)

Their skin has white skeleton tattoos. But when they are working their skin turns translucent and reveals their actual skeleton.

Enjoys their job when they actually get to do it without problems.

Believes in the myth they tell all reapers about that guy sisyphus.

Their favorite job is chasing down wondering souls that are on the run.

💉Nurse!Yuu - Caladrius

They have white wings.

Gets confused for a angel but they are firm that they are not.

Their job is to take sickness and transfer it into their body. Then they fly away with it as they disperse it, healing themselves.

Gives away feathers to ward off danger and illness.

Hates that Savanaclaw students use them as a cat toy.

A long suffering birdy who is losing too many feathers.

🩺 Vet!Yuu- Werewolf

Not the same as beastmen and is firm about that.

They look human most of the time but the whole transformation thing gets in the way.

Is still a vet but if now they are liable to snap their jaws at patients.

They love a good nap in the sun but must resist.

Jack knows to keep his head down if he doesn't want to get along. That just how wolves do. Make nice in the pack or be pushed out.

They don't imprint. If you say that they will rip out your throat.

They don't have soulmates. They have normal relationships like normal people. They just believe in loyalty to make relationships last. They can change partners but they usually don't.

🌊Marine Biologist!Yuu- Selkie

Not a mer just a cute rolly polly seal.

Such a friendly face, but they have sharp teeth.

Keeps their seal skin hidden away.

These days if someone does take their skin they are trained to attack them. Watch out they go for the fingers first.

The seal skin is unique to every selkie so it can't be replaced.

They will always choose the ocean if it came between it and love. But Yuu is a strange Selkie.

They know the tale of Ursilla, a human who loved a male selkie. This is part of why they believe they are destined to be with Azul so that history repeats itself.

Selkies lure their human partners into the sea and most tales say they never return. Yuu attempted with Azul not knowing he was a mer. Very embarrassing.

#theater kid!yuu #maid!yuu #nurse!yuu #vet!yuu #marine biologist!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twst mc #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #special forces!yuu

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sdr2lovemail · 8 months

Text

Rating KNY characters on how well they can play rhythm games!: Upper Moon Edition!

This came to me in a vision and I must share!

Kokushibo 0/10

Kokushibo can kill. He can slay hordes of demon hunters without breaking a sweat. Put a tablet in front of him? He's done.

In battle, he's quick on his feet and a fast thinker. But something about the bright shapes flying across the screen got him pressing them three years after they pass, even with six eyes.

It's a challenge to get him to even play. Saying that human games are trivial to him and does not wish to partake. Will probably get a few seconds into the song before quitting.

"This is pointless. Goodbye."

Douma 9/10

Scarily good. After the initial "shock" of seeing a tablet, Douma is clearing songs with ease.

He's got a good sense of rhythm and can keep up with the notes. He prefers games with female casts as well. They're just nicer to look at in his words.

Scratches the screen of your tablet with those nails of his. Be cautious when using it after he's done with it, you might cut yourself on the glass.

That is if you can get it out of Douma's grasp. This screen is so interesting, you can't just take it away!

"Hey, I'm still using it... Come on, just one more song!"

Akaza 2/10

He can keep up well enough, but his sense of rhythm outside of fighting is awful. He's too focused on trying to hit the buttons that he can't keep up with the beat.

Akaza will get frustrated very quickly. He'll keep trying as he keeps getting mad. Saying he'll beat the next one. He's not stopping until he beats a song, or until your tablet is in pieces. Whichever comes first.

You can offer to put the game on an easier setting, but he wants to play on an even harder setting, just to prove he's better than a scrap of metal. It's a never ending cycle of frustration.

"No! I don't need it to be easier! You know what? Make it harder. I'll show you!"

Hantengu 0/10

(Might include clones in a different post)

Bad all around. No sense of rhythm and can't keep up with the notes. Hantengu gets angry to the point of tears, which makes it even harder for him to play. Didn't even want to try at first.

While he's quick in battle, he's still an old man from the Taisho Era. The bright, flashing graphics of the game overwhelm him and he just can't focus on one thing.

Another one to scratch the screen with his nails. He'd press down hard too, leaving pretty deep scratches.

Gets too frustrated and rage quits, not even finishing a song.

"I-I don't want to do this anymore!"

Nakime 9/10

Amazing sense of rhythm and can keep up with the notes like a seasoned player. Not a fan of most of the song choices. She's a fan of traditional sounds. Modern day pop, electronic, etc. is not for her.

It's a challenge to get her to play as well. She doesn't acknowledge your asking for a while. You really gotta pester her if you want her to play.

Nakime is skilled with her biwa even with her nails. She gets a bonus point for not scratching the life out of your tablet.

"Fine...I will try your music game."

Gyokko 5/10

Thinks he's above anything you'd have to offer, even if it was from modern times. You'll have to really butter him up for him to even think about playing.

With multiple hands comes quick reflexes and the abilities to do multiple things at once. He's able to keep up with the rhythm and notes with ease.

Gyokko is docked points because he'd just be bitching the whole time. Saying how ugly the art and graphics are or how he finds the music/vocals grating against his ears. Overall allergic to fun.

"How childish! Makes sense that someone like you could be so distracted with flashing colors."

Daki 3/10

She would actually be good at the game if she didn't throw a tantrum every time she lost her combo. She has a good eye and sense of rhythm, but gets too in her head about playing. Takes forever to pick a song.

Daki would throw your tablet across the room or slam it into the floor in a fit of rage, don't expect to get it back in one piece.

There's two reactions depending on how well you play. If she doesn't like you all that much, she blow up on you in an act of jealousy. If she does like you, she begging you to tell her how to get better.

"Wah! This is stupid! I clicked that note! I hate this!"

Gyutaro 0/10

Gyutaro doesn't even want to entertain the thought of him playing such a stupid game. He says that he has much better things to do. In the small chance you do get him to play, he sucks.

His lack of skills brings an onslaught of self deprecation. Groaning about he can't even play some dumb human game.

Doesn't scratch the screen too bad but he does scratch himself, leaving bloody stains all over the tablet.

"Nehhh, I can't even keep up. How pitiful..."

Kaigaku 2/10

Proudly boasts about how well he could play and how he could beat any score you could manage to get. Is promptly humbled the second the song starts.

Kaigaku would want to play on the hardest difficulty, but gets mad when he misses a note.

His stubbornness doesn't allow him to quit. He's going to keep playing until he can get a full combo. Don't tell him that all perfect combos exist, you'll never see him again.

"Stop trying to take it from me! I'm not done yet!"

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #upper moons #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo #douma #akaza #hantengu #nakime #gyokko #daki #gyutaro #kaigaku #headcanons

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marlynnofmany · 1 year

Text

Schrödinger’s Poison

Mending the spaceship’s extra cargo net was difficult. Too many strands. I held a couple in my teeth while both hands struggled with the rest, and it wasn't enough. I was considering getting my feet involved (or maybe a crewmate) when I heard excited voices in the hallway.

“Welcome back! Find anything good?”

“Yes! I met someone who wanted the expired heatpacks!”

“What, seriously?”

“You owe me a shrimp stick. Pay up.”

Good-natured grumbling followed. I was pretty sure these were the Frillian twins, who looked like fishy bodybuilders with a fashion sense that always caught me off guard. Either drapey veils and skirts, matching their own flowy fins, or strategically placed stretchy bands. No middle ground. And they were very competitive.

“What did they even want with old heatpacks? You told them they were expired, right?”

“Of course I did! You think I would cheat like that?”

The indignant one was Blip, I was pretty sure, the female of the pair — or the closest thing to female, since their species seemed to handle gender a little differently than humans did. Her brother was Blop.

“Ah, ‘course not,” he admitted. “What are they going to use them for, though?”

“Something about separating the components and putting them to other uses. But look what I got in trade! Human food that’s not expired!”

I looked up at that, mouth still full of cords, but of course the cargo bay door blocked my view. I listened, though.

“What kind is — OH, GET IT AWAY!”

“What? Why?”

I froze, just as curious.

“Do you know how many humans that stuff kills every cycle??”

“What are you talking about?” Blip demanded. “It’s food. It says so right here.”

“Don’t touch me with it! Put it in the containment chamber and get yourself scanned for poison!”

I wove quickly, rushing to finish so I didn’t lose my place; we needed all the nets, and we hadn’t been able to get a new one at the space station; this was important; but Oh man, what do they have out there?

“Humans are omnivores who eat anything! How is this deadly?” Blip was demanding when a new voice arrived.

“What’s the shouting?” asked Paint, her usual cheer dampened by worry. I could just picture her with hands clasped anxiously and her scaly tail held stiff: the very picture of lizardlike concern.

“That’s poison!”

“It’s food!”

“Poisonous food!”

Any hope I had of Paint calming things down was dashed when she asked for a closer look, then slammed into the cargo bay door in her panic to jump back. “I’ve heard of that! It killed an ambassador!”

“See? I told you—”

“We need to get you both scanned, and maybe me too,” Paint said, hyperventilating already. “Maybe the whole ship! Is it airborne? CAPTAIN! CAPTAAAIN!”

I threw the net to the floor and lunged for the door button. It banged open and startled Paint even more; she spun from where she’d been about to dash off in a streak of orange scales.

“What is it?” I demanded, making the pair of Frillians back up a step. I probably looked like some unhinged demon, slamming out of the bay like that. They were both wearing veritable clouds of neon green silks, so the surprise was at least a little bit mutual.

Blip held a jar over her shoulder, clearly torn between showing me the label and keeping it at a safe distance. I squinted, expecting alcohol or some unregulated drug.

Spaceman Spiff’s Chunky Peanut Butter, said the label.

I stared for a long moment, while everyone was silent. Then I’m afraid I startled them all by bursting into laughter.

“It’s not poisonous!” I managed to say.

“But it killed an ambassador!” Paint objected. “I read the report!”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I said, leaning against the wall for support. “The ambassador was allergic to peanuts.”

It took a bit of explaining, and I had to go over it all again when Captain Sunlight came running up, but I did get things settled.

“I can’t believe there are humans allergic to food,” Blip said. “I’ve heard of overreactions to mild toxins and venoms, but really, food? From your own planet?”

“Yup,” I said, putting out a hand for the peanut butter. “Not me, though. I like peanuts.” The jar was a hefty one, manufactured for long voyages. “We can still scan it to run through the medical systems, just in case one of you guys might react badly to it. But it’s not officially toxic.”

“Well, that is good to hear,” said Captain Sunlight, standing as tall as her little lizardy frame allowed. “How about you do that now, and anyone who came in contact with it goes along?”

Blip and Blop agreed immediately, not needing Paint’s waving hands to usher us down the hall.

I looked over my shoulder at Paint as I walked. “Once we get everybody checked out, you should try some. It’s good on toast.”

“Toasted what?” Paint asked, still shooing away.

“Bread.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I heard about that ‘pizza’ you talked people into eating on Kamm’s ship!”

“Some of them liked it!” I objected.

“Not Bopburt.”

“No, not Bopburt,” I admitted. “But this is totally different. Thanks for getting it, Blip!” I turned to wave the jar at the Frillian in the lead.

“My pleasure,” she said, and it almost sounded like she meant it.

“Want to try some once it’s safe?”

“No, I do not.”

“Your loss.”

~~~

The ongoing adventures of backstory for this book! More to come.

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sassycheesecake · 3 months

Text

A/N: I have been really into dark romance and shit, ever since I got that TikTok recommendation. I hereby present yakuza!Shinsuke Kita x Reader. Part 1/2

‘Shit. Shit. Shit! I am late!’, you curse yourself as you almost bolt out of the train, as soon as it stops and its doors open.

You accidentally ran into a lot of people, shouting quick apologies over your shoulder, still running to your workplace.

Thank the heavens for your stamina.

Finally arriving at the Tokyo Ambulance Rescue Station, you quickly run inside and each of your coworkers stops what they are doing to look at you.

Huffing and almost wheezing like you’re having an asthma attack, you step inside and head to the female locker room without looking at any of your coworkers.

Already feeling disgusted by your sweaty state, you change into your paramedic uniform nonetheless.

Now in fresh clothes, you trot your way to one of the ambulance vehicles, seeing your friend Makima checking the equipment in the backpacks and making sure everything is filled up.

Gulping in nervousness, you approach slowly.

“Glad you decided to show up. Almost done.” Makima tells you in a deadly calm voice. Makima is one of those people who despise being late, whether it's herself or someone she is waiting on. She is only a few years older than you but still your superior. Great, this is just your first month after graduating but you were so tired last night that you forgot to put on your damn alarm for the next morning.

Not that this is an excuse, but your showing up is all that matters right?

With shaking footsteps, you make your way into the vehicle and start apologizing in a rant.

“Makima I am so so sorry, I promise it will never happen again!”, you frantically explain yourself, still out of breath.

The long-haired redhead briefly looks at you before bursting out laughing and you don’t know if this makes you feel better or worse.

Giggling, she closes up the i.v. medication backpack and storages it back underneath the cabinet of the bandages.

“(Y/N) don’t worry about it really, shit happens to all of us. No one is perfect and everyone here at the station was late once. Even me.” Makima explains and you can feel yourself being able to breathe easier already.

Just when you were about to reply to her, your beeper went off with a loud annoying peeping voice.

You run to the rack, where your black jacket with your name and the words T.A.R.S. are stitched into, and hop into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

Reading the screen at the front, you groan at the message that the fire station has sent you.

‘PATIENT PROB OD, TROUBLE BREATHING, UNCONSCIOUS, UNRESPONSIVE ‘

It’s probably the troublesome homeless teenager Denji again. You have met Denji twice now. Once beaten up badly and lying knocked out cold in an alley where he was found by a couple of passengers. The other time you found him almost bleeding to death due to a deep stab wound in his thigh, which he explained he simply got mugged.

Nonetheless, you press the buttons for the siren and the blue lights, while Makima steps on the gas to rush to the scene.

The rush and adrenaline are running through your system, making your heart bounce in excitement. Saving lives in acute situations is your thing! It’s a working environment that always comes with new foreign things and patients. Each day is different, which is exactly what your brain needs. Even if you have to drive through the massive city of Tokyo, the different kinds of people and the stories you get to tell your parents sometimes, are worth their shocking and even disgusting expressions sometimes.

Once you were called to a restaurant, in which a patient had an allergic reaction and went into a nonlethal anaphylactic shock.

The patient told you that his date was so horrible, that he purposely ate onions, even though he is allergic to them.

All just to get away from her.

Shaking your head, the logic of men never ceases to amaze you.

Arriving at the scene, you see two people leaning over a young guy that is laying on the sidewalk. He is already turned to his side, making sure in case he needs to throw up, he doesn’t choke on his vomit. Mentally thanking these people for performing the stable lateral position on the unconscious boy.

You grab the mobile vital monitor and the backpack that includes material for giving an I.V. including meds and an infusion.

Before Makima grabs the breathing and the medical suction pump, she turns off the siren but leaves the blue lights on. Pressing the lock on the car keys, the ambulance is securely locked. Unfortunately, people tend to break into ambulance vehicles and proceed to steal the medications.

Both women are rushing to the patient, quickly going through the ABCDE approach, and they manage to load him onto the stretcher after making sure he didn’t overdose. His heart is beating abnormally fast, his blood pressure is at 75/40 and when you shine a small flashlight to take a look at his eyes, his pupils are dilated.

There’s no doubt about it, that Denji got his hands on cocaine.

After giving him Adrenaline and Naloxone, his condition stabilises and Denji begins to stir.

Blinking his eyes open, a bright light immediately greets him and Denji swears he died.

He feels incredibly nauseous and his head is spinning like he just went on countless rides on a spinning wheel.

You hover over Denji’s pale figure, a vomiting bag already in your right hand.

“Denji? Can you hear me?” You ask him in a concerned voice.

When Denji was about to answer, he rapidly sits up and snatches the bag out of your hand, and hurls right into it.

Rubbing his back in a comforting manner, you sit beside him on the stretcher.

Makima is giving a quick report to their station boss, before joining you in the vehicle.

The sight of Denji vomiting disgusts Makima, deciding to wait outside because she can’t stand the smell or sight of someone throwing up.

“Denji, I think we should really take you to the hospital, you’re only 16 years old, where did you even get this stuff?” You ask him in a worried voice.

“It’s none of your business, let me out! I need to go!” Denji snaps at you, beginning to stand up.

You know you shouldn’t fight someone who just woke up from a drug rush, so you let him stand up.

Standing on wobbly legs, he places his hand against the vehicle wall to stabilize his balance.

Breathing heavily out of his mouth, he was about to open the vehicle door when Makima already beat him to it.

Surprised that he is up, she moves to the side to let him step out of the vehicle.

Denji almost falls flat on his face and his pale face makes you even more worried about him.

“Denji, are you sure you’re okay? Do you want us to call anyone?”

“Stop acting like you fucking care about me. I am just a street rat. I don’t need your pity! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He angrily spits at you, like a moody teenager that got his phone taken away.

Makima and you are watching him walk away, still unbalanced but both of you leave him be.

“You’re welcome by the way for not letting you die today!” Makima yells after him. Denji shows his middle finger up in response and continues to stomp away.

Sighing in defeat, Makima and you get back into the vehicle and you are making your way back to the station.

Giving the report that the patient refused to cooperate and come with you, you drive back.

The clock strikes 22:00 and Makima and you are finally free to change after the night shift has arrived.

Farewelling Makima goodbye, you begin to walk to the train station.

Having your headphones in your ear, you scroll through your Spotify playlist and choose ‘Glitter and Gold’.

You had a really busy day and barely had a chance to go to the bathroom.

Entering the women’s restroom, you look up from your phone, and the sight before you freezes immediately.

Right in front of you stands a very tall guy with sandy-blonde hair, he has to be at least 6’1 and he is holding a lot of tissues against his arm, blood soaking each tissue.

The stranger holds a painful expression while putting pressure on his arm.

His muscled body is leaning against the sink, the blood on his upper arm dripping down right into it.

Brown eyes rapidly look in your direction, his face shining with curiosity.

Chuckling nervously, he starts talking with his deep voice.

“Don’t scream, don't call for anyone. Just got a little scratch on my arm.”

Blinking a few times at his wound, you slowly step towards him.

Your approach is making him tense, his non-injured arm moving to his side, where he holds a dagger in case you want to attack him.

“Your wound looks pretty bad. Don’t worry I am a paramedic, I can take care of that if you want to.”

The blonde-haired giant looks at you for a few seconds, making sure you’re not lying.

After a few moments of tense silence, he nods unsurely.

Breathing out slowly, you awkwardly glance at the door and at him a few times.

“Uhm. Just follow me then, I need to take a proper look at it. I have my materials at home so come home with me so I can patch you up properly.” You explain to him.

His eyes watch you carefully, hesitantly he nods and puts his maroon jacket back on.

“Do you have a belt or something on you?” You ask him as you both exit the public restroom.

The tall stranger nods and takes off his belt to hand it to you.

Grasping the belt you begin to tie it around his arm, so the wound hopefully stops the bleeding until you both arrive at your place.

Wincing at the tightness, he thanks you quietly.

As you both begin to enter the train, which is thankfully empty around this time on a weekday, you ask him what happened to his arm.

“Not that's yer business anyway, so I’d rather not say.” He avoids your curious look.

“But that wound is pretty deep! You need to go to the hospital and get that stitched up probably.” You try to reason with him.

“I am serious. Drop it.” He snaps at you with an angry frown.

Accepting his request, you decide to drop it.

With nervous hands, you glance down at the metro floor and wait in silence to arrive at your destination.

Ten uncomfortable minutes later, you both arrive at the subway station that is close to your apartment.

Unlocking the door with your key, you enter inside and wait for him.

The blonde hesitates for a few seconds, glancing down the hallway nervously before deciding that you’re not a threat, and enters as well.

Gently closing the door, you urge him to follow you into your bathroom where your medical kit lies underneath the sink.

You direct him to sit on the edge of the bathtub and he complies without question.

“I need to see your wound properly in order to clean it up.” You tell him while putting on medical gloves and setting the necessary materials like the stitching materials, disinfectant wipes, and fluid, and scissors.

He winces while rolling up his sleeve to present you with his injury.

You start by taking a wet washcloth and gently dabbing it around the area, quietly apologizing whenever he hisses and flinches away from the touch.

As you are now able to see the injury better, you see that it’s actually a bullet wound, hence the bleeding was so heavy.

Shocked that he has this kind of injury, you remember that he doesn’t want to talk about how he got it.

“Lift your arm please, I need to know if the bullet is still in the muscle tissue.“

He gives you an incredulous look since lifting his arm would only worsen his pain. Nonetheless, he complies.

Quickly looking around his arm you don’t see an exit wound, closing your eyes in pity for the stranger, you know what you are going to say next, definitely won’t be easy.

“Let me guess. That thing is still in there.” He looks to the ceiling of your bathroom with a tight smile.

“U-Uhm yes. I told you to go to a hospital. It needs to be surgically removed. I really recommend it Mr….”, you drift off as you don’t recall knowing his name.

He looks at you and realizes he’s never introduced himself to you properly.

“Name’s Atsumu Miya, ya can call me Atsumu.”

Later on, Atsumu enters the familiar door of the headquarters of the ‘Fox Den’ and lets out a heavy sigh.

The pent-up frustration from the fight with Karasuno, the pain, and the treatment that he had to bite through with you is making his body insanely tired from exhaustion.

Nonetheless, he needs to give a report to his boss, the leader of the Inarizaki gang of Hyogo.

Atsumu walks down the hallway that has multiple doors connected to it and since it’s awfully quiet, Atsumu guesses that most members are either asleep or away on missions.

Entering the lift at the end of the hallway, he presses the ‘5’ button for the conference rooms and where also the office of his boss.

Swinging back and forth on his heels, Atsumu waits until the elevator stops and continues his path to the room of the leader of Inarizaki.

Once he arrives at his destination, he knocks first, before entering.

“Hey Kita, 'm back from the mission." The blonde says when he steps into the office.

A man who has silver hair with black tips in it, is sitting at the desk and he briefly looks up from his laptop with a stoic face, before looking down again, continuing to type something down.

Ignoring the warm greeting of his boss, Atsumu plops down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and puts his arms behind his head to stretch.

Unfortunately, he completely forgot about the injury on his arm, immediately putting the injured arm down again with a winced hiss.

The head of the gang looks at his trusted friend before a slight frown of concern decorates his face.

“What happened?“ he asks in a calm voice.

“Oh, you know the usual. Just some fuckers from Karasuno in our territory and one of them fucking shot me.“ Atsumu explains while gently rubbing over his arm, feeling the wrapped bandage from you underneath his jacket.

His frown deepens at the mention of their rival gang, the Karasuno crows, but listens quietly.

“Do you need medical attention? Do you want me to send Ginjima or Riseki up?“ He continues to question him.

“Nah, I am good Kita. Got stitched up by this cute girl that I met while I was bleedin‘ out like a pig in a women’s restroom by the train station.“ Atsumu pulls his sleeve to reveal the bandage.

Kita glances at the bandage on his friend‘s arm, a mix between concern and anger but also suspicion haunts his face.

He slowly gets up from his chair and rounds his table with slow steps, making his way toward the older twin.

The injured man looks at him with curious eyes while raising his eyebrow in confusion.

The silver-haired man stares at one of his most trusted right-hand man with a neutral expression and puts his arms behind his back.

“Tell me more about this mysterious medic girl.“ He demands.

Atsumu grins mischievously at his boss and begins to tell him about his fight to the encounter of meeting you.

Yawning, you stretched out your exhausted limbs and climbed into your comforting blue soft blankets. The feeling of your head hitting the cushy pillow makes you sigh in bliss. It was a long day, first the rowdy patients, then getting vomited on by a drunk homeless person that almost overdosed, and then there was the injured blonde-haired stranger you met tonight. You’re not going to lie, it was a whole mountain of stupid to just invite a stranger over to your apartment. Anxiously, you remember, that he mentioned he didn’t want to go to the hospital to get patched up because he needs to stay anonymous.

The only question is…

Why does he need to do that?

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone vibrates with a message. You curiously pick it up to see what the notification is.

Eyes widening in shock and also a concern, you glance at your screen.

Unknown number

‘Thank you for taking care of my friend. I would like to repay you some time for your kind service’

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyū!!#hq x reader #hq fluff #inarizaki #shinsuke kita #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke #yakuza!au #yakuza #haikyuu mafia

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blackswan446 · 2 months

Text

worth it. - five

→ pairing: yan!knj x reader

→ wc: 2657

→ cws: drugging, scars, mentions of murder/body disposal

→ notes: i procrastinated this so long and i don't even like it but i just want to get it done 🫠🫠 guyssss im so sorry this story was not planned out in the slightest and i feel like it's so boring and lame and run-of-the-mill but i hope you guys enjoy anyways! truly sorry for publishing this bullcrap but look out for more (and better) work in the future. <3 oh and also if you somehow enjoyed this pls like reblog and comment because it makes my dayyyy!! okay love ya enjoy

for the first time in days, you finally felt peace.

when you were shut up in your room, rotting in your bed, jumping at every slam of a car door, and falling farther and farther into the murky depths of your own anxiety, jiwon had tried to make you leave. everyday, he'd sit outside your bedroom, and plead for you to get some fresh air with him, to go for a walk, or to just sit outside in the sunshine.

every day, he'd show up, and beseech you, and stay outside your room, and every day, you'd ignore him. it was starting to become more of an expectation than a chance, that was, until he came back with a new proposal.

one day, after many long days of jiwon's lone voice echoing off the walls of your house and being met with silence, he came to the door with a suggestion that piqued your interest. "what if namjoon went out with us? he said he wouldn't mind. maybe you'd feel better being around more people."

on one hand, you didn't really want to go out yet, you were still too shaken up by the incident to even stomach the thought of facing other people. on the other hand, you felt kind of...obligated. namjoon was offering his free time to hang out with a kid he's only known for a month and his hideaway sister. who would want to do that? he probably just felt bad, you thought. he probably felt like he had to do it. yet when jiwon assured you that it was his idea, and his idea alone, it only set in stone the compulsion you felt towards the whole scheme.

so, you agreed, albeit very reluctantly. it was only when the three of you planned out where to go, and you saw the genuine expression on namjoon's face, did you start looking forward to it. the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how kind he was. he always made a point to ask about your day, and listen to your thoughts, and he even brought over some cookies he made himself, because "you're going through a hard time and you deserve them"(although you couldn't eat them, because you were allergic to the ingredients, it's the thought that counts!)

all was well, until the day of your long-awaited outing, when you woke up to a feverish jiwon, plagued by what seemed to be some sort of food poisoning. "don't worry about me, [name]," he shouted from inside the bathroom, "i still want you to go out. you'll still have fun, i promise." the sounds of him vomiting followed shortly after, and you found yourself sitting on your bed and staring at the wall mindlessly, wondering if you should even go. would namjoon still want to go if it were just the two of you? should you cancel? would he cancel first?

grabbing your phone and biting your nails anxiously, you searched for the contact you had saved as 'namjoon', and took a deep breathing before hitting the 'call' button. putting the phone up to your ear, he picked up surprisingly fast, the phone not even ringing a full time.

"hello?" he said, voice calm and casual.

"hey, so, i have some bad news. jiwon's really sick right now, and he won't be able to go today." you said sadly, bracing yourself for him to call off the plans.

"oh, that sucks. but we can still go, can't we?" he asked, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

surprised, and with excitement running through your veins, you searched for a response. "i..uh, yeah. yes, we can. are you sure you don't mind?"

he chuckled fondly, his deep voice ringing in your ears. "do i mind? i should be asking you that!" all you could do was laugh in response, his willingness to go regardless of the situation still slightly shocking you. "of course i don't mind, silly. trust me, i'm more than happy to go with you, as long as you don't mind either."

you smiled at his eagerness and good attitude. "alright, that sounds good. see you later, then." you concluded, body flooding with relief and a spark of excitement burning in your stomach.

all of those events led to now, where you were sitting comfortably on a dock overlooking the inky waters of the ocean, legs dangling off the side and namjoon right next to you. the day was just great, and was nowhere near as awkward as you were anticipating it to be. you started off with checking out some dusty antique shops and second-hand clothing stores, then you grabbed lunch at your favorite place to eat before going to see a new movie that had released last week, and wound down by grabbing some ice cream and heading to relax by the beach. all the while, namjoon was right there, being an absolute gentleman. he didn't complain about anything, didn't let you carry your own bags or open your own door, and didn't let the conversation die down and become bland. all in all, it was the textbook definition of a perfect day.

as for namjoon, he had been on cloud nine since the second he woke up. everything had went just perfectly. everything from his scheme with the cookies (which had effectively kept your brother out of the way - who knew using expired ingredients would work so well!), to the conversations, even the weather, was flawless. and as the day drew to a close, and the sun sank below the horizon and was replaced by it's mysterious counterpart, he knew that you thought the same thing. which is why he felt so confident moving onto the final - and best - part of the day.

letting out a sigh, and turning to look at your relaxed figure, namjoon set out in his mind what he was going to say. "today was..the best day i've had in years. you're a special person, [name]; you're like nobody i've ever met before." his words made your heart race, and you glanced down at the clapping waves below your shoes.

"it was amazing. i can't thank you enough, for everything. i needed this day." you blushed, mind replaying the day over in your head like a romance movie. "i..." he started, stopping as if he were carefully considering his next words, "sorry, i've never really said anything like this before. it's just..." he continued shyly, "you are - i think - you're the type of person i'd like to spend forever with."

at this point, your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your stomach had turned to full-on pigeons, flapping around violently. your eyes met his, and before you could respond, he took his hand in yours gently and kept talking. "come on, [name], think about it. think about everything that happened today. wasn't it amazing? just think. that could be our future. every day, spent together, just like this. doesn't it sound beautiful?" he explained, the look in his eyes falling somewhere between enamored and desperate.

taking a minute to consider your response, namjoon watched you the whole time, his...loving...gaze not faltering for a second. "namjoon, i...i definitely think there's something here, a connection, or something. but we've only hung out alone once. shouldn't we give it more time?" you suggested, eyes downcast and looking at your hand wrapped in his.

this part wasn't in his script. it wasn't part of the narrative he had set in his head for this. no, this was the part where you'd agree, and then he'd take you away from this shitty little town, and you'd live happily ever after. just what went wrong?

namjoon chuckled, a weird look of relief coming across the place. "oh, princess, you don't get it, do you?" he said fondly, heart swelling at your confused face. "that's my fault. i should have been more clear with you. let me try again." he said, shifting to have both his hands on your shoulders, holding you with a grip as strong as iron.

"i. love you. okay? i love you, more than i've loved anything before and more than i'll love anything else, ever. alright? do you understand now?" he laughed. your brows knitted together at his erratic behavior and random profession of love. you shook your head. "no, you don't love me, namjoon. not yet, you don't. we haven't known each other for long enough..."

he scoffed, like the words you were saying were nothing but bitter, poisonous lies. "i don't love you? that's a ridiculous thing to say, darling, of course i love you! if i didn't love you, do you think i'd do this?" he said as he released the grip on your shoulders. if only you had listened to the voice that told you to run while you could.

he yanked at the long sleeve of his black jacket, pulling the cuff to his elbow and bringing his shirt sleeve with it. "this hurt like a bitch, [name], but for you, i'd go through hell and back." he sighed, before turning his exposed wrist to you. and on there, marking his clear skin, were the letters of your initials, scarred on his flesh like a carving made into a wooden table. he smiled as he showed you the mangled letters; he smiled sickly, like he was proud of what he did.

the air was sucked out of your lungs, the glow of moonlight on the water blurring as your head started to spin. a wave of nausea hit your body, and everything in your stomach threatened to come right back up in that moment. "do you believe me now? because if you don't there's something else i want to tell you." he prodded, picking up your chin and roughly turning your head to look at him. "you want to know, don't you? i know you do, i know it'll nag you, and eat away at your brain if you don't." he smirked, the sick smile still plastered on his face.

"don't worry, darling, i'll tell you anyways. i'll still tell you, because i love you." he said, releasing the grip from your jaw and moving his head close to your ear, so the sinner could confess his wrongdoings under the cover of a whisper.

"i killed daekwan, and i fucking loved it."

he leaned back from your ear and smiled proudly. "and i'm going to tell you all about it, alright? don't you want to know how i did it? don't worry, sweetheart, i'll tell you. just look at me, okay?" he said, pushing your chin up to force his maniacal gaze onto your own terrified one.

"so first, i knocked him out, with a big brick to the head. then i dragged him into this alley, right? a creepy old alley where nobody else would dare to go - look at me, baby - and i just went at him with a huge bat, and i'll spare you the gory details, but he looked more like a piece of meat than a human being when i was done with h-look at me. i'm trying to tell you something. and then, alright, i threw him in a big bucket with a bunch of chemicals, and watched him fizzle away into a big bunch of nothing, and then-fuck, look at me. pay attention. then i dumped him out." he paused, waiting to see if you would ask the question, not just any question, but the question he knew was banging on the walls of your brain, screaming to be let out. when you responded with nothing but a scared stare into the water, he knew he had to make it easier for you.

"you want to know where he is?" he finally finished, asking the question like an excited child asks about the whereabouts of a mystical creature. his deep brown eyes still searched for your own, and no matter how many times you tried to look away from the acidic burn of his gaze, the chill that ran down your spine whenever he commanded you to look at him was enough to make you tremble in fear and meet his eyes once again, even if it were only for a minute.

"he's right in front of us."

the words took a minute to process, the meaning behind his cryptic confession not reaching your brain right away. the truth, when it finally hit you, did so like a ton of bricks. clasping your hand over your mouth in shock, the tears that were brimming in your eyes fell heavily and continuously, matching the stormy waves of emotions crashing through your body.

curling up into a closed up form; knees to your chest, arms resting on top of them and head buried in your elbows, you felt his arms wrap around your crying figure. you swatted him away, shouting some variation of "don't touch me". you saw out of the corner of your eye how his arms reeled back gently, resting awkwardly on the dock. one of his hands reached slowly into his left coat pocket.

he sighed. "[name], listen to me. i know you're scared, and surprised, and upset, and i get it. but i did it for a reason, hm? you get that? i did it because i love you. everything i do, is because i love you. you need to understand that. as soon as you do, you won't be afraid anymore. i promise." he explained softly, contrasting sharply with the psychotic and unhinged tone he took earlier when describing his heinous actions.

"i'm telling you this-" he said, swiftly looping his free arm around your shoulder with a tight grasp-too tight for you to break free from, "because what's about to happen probably won't help your nerves. so just stay nice and calm for me, alright? nice and still. i won't hurt you, sweetheart."

with that, namjoon pulled your trembling figure close to him and turned you to lean against his chest, his brawny frame partially shielding your tear-stained face from the sudden chill in the wind. he removed his other hand from the depths of his pocket, only now, it was holding something. a flash of white caught your eye-which only sent you further into your panic.

namjoon stilled your shaky arms and shoulders by moving his hand from its spot on your arm to around the front of your shoulders, pressing you further into his chest. by now, garish sobs were escaping from your lips; what a shame there was nobody else there to hear them. to see you, and swoop in like a superhero.

too bad.

"you're going to have to be quiet, princess, alright? sooner or later someone's going to hear you. besides, the crying won't get you anywhere. your fate was sealed the moment that blade hit my arm." he warned, his tone of voice doing more than enough to tell you that he wasn't amused or affected by your cries.

"i'm going to give you something now, and you're going to get really tired, alright? don't be scared, darling. you're just going to go to sleep for a little while. you'll wake up, and everything will be alright. remember, i'm doing this because i love you. got that?"

before you could flail your arms, or kick your feet, or make any (futile) attempt to wriggle out of his suffocating grip, you saw a familiar flash of white, and felt yourself inhale a sweet-smelling odor that sent a chill through your veins. as the grip on this reality nightmare you found yourself in, the last thing you saw, through blurry vision and a dark night sky, was the face of your unrequited lover, the one whose vines wrapped around the stone walls of your tower, and before you could stop it, fully consumed it, blocking out the windows and locking the door.

taglist: @teugiie

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #kim namjoon x reader #yandere x reader

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suffersinfandom · 4 months

Text

So. Magic.

[Text of an AO3 comment, cropped to leave out the writer: "I finally got a chance to finish S2 (unspoiled!) and came directly to this document after to devour its contents. But by the very first chapter I was taken aback by the concept that anyone in the world thinks Izzy's death is permanent. Did we even watch the same show? You can ignore literally every excellent piece of analysis here if you want - the fact remains that Buttons turned into a bird, through magic, in the third(?) episode, it never got mentioned again beyond maybe one throwaway line, and then that bird returns to Izzy's grave marker in the very last scene (other than the end stinger). There is zero reason for that to happen other than foreshadowing for Izzy/Buttons/magic/resurrection stuff to occur in S3 (if it hasn't already). What, do they think that Buttons was just super sad and paying his respects? I have like less than zero media analysis skills, I noticed basically nothing of what you pointed out in this entire document on my own, and yet I STILL picked up that there's more going on here."]

The thing is.

IS magic real in the world of OFMD?

I believe in my heart of hearts that Buttons is a seawitch who transmogrified himself into a seagull and I believe that cunty suit was cursed as heck, but I don't think that magic is strictly, technically, literally meant to be understood as real in OFMD.

(I know there are a few posts about the show's magic, so apologies if I rehash a half-remembered idea. Feel free to leave a link if you have any of those posts handy!)

OFMD's world is full of little magic. The Caribbean is easily traversed; people can find each other with no real issues (or avoid detection when that suits the story better); time and space are all hand-wavey. The world operates on vibes and convenience. If something needs to happen for the story's sake, it just does. Don't worry about it.

The show's big magic works the same way: we can analyze and try to parse out how stuff happens, but we're not asked to. Is the suit cursed or is Frenchie just allergic to peanuts? Did Stede bring Ed back to life or was Ed in a head injury-induced coma? Did Buttons turn into a bird or did an addled Ed lose track of Buttons in the woods? It doesn't matter, don't worry about it! What matters is that Stede (kind of) learned a lesson about listening to his crew and respecting their beliefs. What matters is that Stede's presence gave Ed the push he needed to save himself. What matters is the message behind Buttons' transformation: people can change.

The show's magic has some rules. When it comes to the big magic, there's always a logical out -- a way to explain it away and keep the story more-or-less grounded in reality. OFMD isn't going to give us some big, literal, onscreen magic act. It's not going to tell us that the Gravy Basket is an actual metaphysical location that souls swing by and anyone can be called back from. It's not going to show Izzy mystically resurrected after we saw him die a bloody death right in front of us.

Let's look at Buttons' transmogrification.

It's important that Ed is the only witness to his change because Ed is explicitly set up as an unreliable POV character in S2E4. We are told, in three different ways, that we can't trust what he sees (and what we see through him).

First: Roach, the closest thing we have to a medical professional, says that Ed is half-dead and brain-scrambled. His mind isn't right.

Second: Buttons says that Ed has one foot in the Gravy Basket and isn't entirely present. (Side note, but I don't think that Buttons using the term "gravy basket" is meant to establish it as an actual place. I believe this line is just meant to set up Ed as witness to the transformation; we don't need to read too much into Buttons, the character who Knows Things when convenient, saying it. Or, if you want to ground this in reality, you can assume that Buttons has talked about the Gravy Basket before and Ed subconsciously picked up on it.)

Third: Ed refers to a rabbit as a wolf, confirming that, yeah, he's having some issues with reality. Like, we don't really think that Ed can't identify a rabbit, right? I know the guy spends his time primarily on the ocean, but he's a genius who does, sometimes, set foot on land.

So Ed's out of it, and not even he has eyes on Buttons when the transformation is meant to occur. One minute we have a chanting Buttons, the next we have a seagull flapping around his transmogrification vessel. We all know that seagull is Buttons and he's off to make sweet love to the sea, but also... do we?

What matters is that Ed believes he saw a man turn into a bird so he could better love the sea. That's it! Ed, someone who desperately needed proof that people can change -- that he and Stede can change -- has that proof and can truly start healing. It's beautiful and I love it, ten out of ten, five stars, no notes.

If we're lucky enough to get a season three with Ewen Bremner in it, I fully expect a butt-naked Buttons to show up with absolutely no explanation. Maybe we get a few little wink-wink nudge-nudge moments hinting to his time as a seagull, but straight confirmation that magic is real would break the rules the show has established.

Anyway. All of this is really just my way of saying that Izzy's dead and it'd be extremely fucking weird and world-breaking if he crawled out of his grave thanks to bird magic.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #ish #me typing things #buttons #edward teach #magic #i hope this makes a lick of sense #or barring that someone states my idea better than i did in the notes #alt title: IZZY IS DEAD AND HE'S GONNA STAY THAT WAY #featuring tangents about #the narrative purpose of ed's gravy basket moment #and how lucius' “death” is different

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