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abyssruler · 7 months

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a dummy’s guide to dating your crush, by lyney

lyney x gn!reader

lyney has loved you from the moment your childish small hands found each other for the first time and never let go. it’s just too bad that you don’t feel the same way, but that was fine, lyney has mastered the art of pretending. or — the one where lyney tries, and fails, to set up a few dates with you, and inadvertently wins your heart in the process.

childhood friends to lovers-ish, delulu lyney, one-sided crush, jealous lyney, slight neuvillette x reader

You and Lyney have always been close, even as children living beneath roof of the hearth and Father’s careful guidance. You were one of the first children to accept him and Lynette when they were still strangers in a new, unfamiliar place.

You were the first person to hold his hand apart from his sister, a brightness to your eyes as you led him to a secret nook that you claimed would be a hiding place for only you and him. You were the first person to make him laugh after a failed mission, the first person who held him as he cried silent tears that he’d tried to hide from his siblings, the first person who kissed his cheek and promised to ease the burden on his shoulders.

You’re the first person he’s loved that isn’t explicitly family, though that isn’t quite right either, because you are family. Not in the same way Lynette and Freminet are family to him, but family in the way two close friends are family—family in the way a man might consider his spouse family.

And it feels almost natural to come to such a conclusion. Like flicking on a light switch and realizing that little has changed save for the fact that he now sees so much more. After all, why shouldn’t his natural conclusion be that you two belonged together the way two spouses would?

You’ve always been close, know each others’ secrets, have each others’ backs, and so much more. It’s a relationship built from years and years of trust and affection, and really, can he be blamed for thinking that your shared history must mean something more? That it has set the foundations for a love so great it could rival romance novels? You’ve known each other since you were children, would and have killed for each other, and he imagines if he asks you if you love him, you would say yes. Never mind the specifics of whether that love was romantic or familial, what mattered was that you would say you love him.

Lyney is so far gone in his delusions and fantasies that he fails to see the glaring fact that he pointedly refuses to acknowledge, the glaring fact that everyone but him has made peace with, because you never go a day without telling everyone how much you like—

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” you call out, a smile lighting up your features as you turned away from Lyney to face the man, the myth, the legend himself.

Neuvillette, also known as the bane of Lyney’s existence.

✧

The proper, rational thing to do was to ask you out on a date, a bouquet of flowers in hand as he invited you to a high-end restaurant or to watch one of the operas showing that night. But, as Lynette would say, when has Lyney ever been rational?

So, he reserved a seat at restaurant that he heard from the grapevine was a popular spot for couples, bragging to the receptionist how he was bringing a date that night. And if he made sure to make his voice come off a little louder, to make his presence more known? Well, it certainly had nothing to do with him wanting rumors to spread of him taking you out on a date in a restaurant well-known for hosting couples. Nope.

“I believe this is your date, Monsieur Lyney?” the receptionist from before asks, a knowing look in her eyes as her gaze darted to yours and Lyney’s clasped hands. He nods in response.

“Monsieur Lyney,” you whispered to him with a teasing laugh that sent his stomach rolling pleasantly—that was, until you realized what the receptionist actually said. “Wait a minute, date?”

Lyney laughs off your confused look, pretending not to have heard the latter part of your statement.

“I hear they serve your favorite dessert here,” he says in a rather horrible attempt at changing the topic that would have had Lynette staring at him with unimpressed eyes. Thankfully, you’re not as sharp as his sister, and thus, more easily distracted by the prospect of delicious food.

Once you’re seated at the table that Lyney had made sure was facing the windows, offering a view of the vast ocean outside, he takes the time to appreciate the much better view in front of him: you with furrowed brows as you squinted at the letters on the menu, your lips jutted out in consideration, a serious look in your eyes like you’re about to decide the fate of the world instead of what you’ll have for dinner.

Lyney finds it all endearing.

He opens his mouth to ask you something—but then he promptly closes it shut when the distant baritones of a voice reaches his ears. Familiar, deep, and so very unwelcome.

Evidently, you hear it too, because the menu on your hands is forgotten in favor of a wide grin that isn’t directed at Lyney, no, you turn your head—swivel, more like—so quickly he almost fears for the state of your neck.

He doesn’t need to turn to know just who that voice belongs to, but the sheer happiness in the tone of your voice is unmistakeable as you raised a hand in greeting for the man who continues to haunt Lyney’s nightmares.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, it’s been a while since I last saw you!”

A while, yes, if six hours ago could be considered a while. Lyney would know, he’d been crouched on top of the tree that overlooked you and Neuvillette as you sat on a bench and spoke in an almost friendly manner. Freminet hadn’t been happy to be dragged into what his younger brother dubbed was a gross violation of your privacy, but it wasn’t a violation of your privacy when you were out in public where any passing stranger could see you. If you asked Lyney, he was only making sure Neuvillette didn’t do anything untoward towards you, like smiling at you, or talking to you, or just being within a hundred-meter wide vicinity of you.

Unfortunately for Lyney, the esteemed Chief Justice of Fontaine did all those things. And as if that wasn’t enough, he even grazed his fingers over your hair when a stray leaf landed on it! Truly a vile man, abusing his authority in order to get close to you and touch your hair, smiling and talking to you as if Lyney didn’t exist. Lyney, who’s known you since you were children. Lyney, who brushed your hair every morning and did everything you asked without hesitation.

Lyney, who was your soulmate!

“Lyney, you wouldn’t mind if the Monsieur sat with us, would you?”

And now Neuvillette had the gall to insert himself in, when Lyney had planned this to be a romantic date for two, not three.

He knows if he said no you wouldn’t push the issue anymore, but you’re looking at him with such hopeful eyes, even clasping your hands together to your chest, that Lyney can hardly find it in himself to say no.

For the rest of the night, he’s forced to endure watching you and Neuvillette make easy conversation while he silently stabs at his steak. He wonders which god he must have offended to make him feel like a third wheel in the date that he himself planned.

✧

It becomes a reoccurring trend.

Lyney would ask you to meet with him, either at the park or by the fountains or in the opera or merely at one of his magic shows—though he never specifically tells you that it’s a date. And before he could make any sort of move to indicate that he feels more for you than a childhood friend should, Neuvillette arrives and takes up all your attention.

It doesn’t seem to be intentional, or even a malicious act. The Chief Justice always seems pleasantly surprised to see you, and he’s never rude to Lyney. It’s just that…

“Monsieur Neuvillette, do you think these flowers would look good displayed by my window?”

The man in question seems to ponder deeply over your words, regarding the bouquet in your hands seriously as though it were a matter of life and death. Lyney remains standing behind the two of you, feeling a little out of place, as though he were the one intruding on Neuvillette’s time with you instead of the other way around.

“Yes, they would fit well with the general backdrop of Fontaine. Although personally,” Neuvillette plucks a single flower from the bundle and places it on your hair, “I think they would look best displayed like this on you.”

Lyney’s jaw drops to the floor. His eyes bulge out of their sockets. His hair begins to fall one by one until his bald head is left shining in the mid-afternoon sun.

I think they would look best displayed like this on you.

Neuvillette’s words keep repeating in his head like a particularly annoying fly buzzing around his ear, taunting him with the fact that while he may hold you freely and spend as much time with you as he can, he will never be the man who so easily captures your attention and keeps it.

You’re smiling, a bashful tint to your eyes as you looked up at Neuvillette beneath your lashes, fingers touching the petals of the flower now nestled in your hair.

It’s a sickeningly romantic scene, like something out of a play or movie or song. Lyney wants to claw his eyes out, though mostly he wants to snatch that flower off your hair and replace it with a rainbow rose, his signature flower. His.

Lyney takes a single step forward to interject, to insert himself into the conversation and make himself known, to keep you from looking at Neuvillette with those eyes that should be directed at him.

But before he can utter a single word, you move to pluck a flower from the bouquet and place it behind Neuvillette’s ear, a mirror image to the one he placed on you.

And it’s like watching something inevitable, like being a bystander to someone else’s story.

Lyney sees you laugh at something Neuvillette says in a tone too low for him to hear, but the happiness and brightness radiating off of you is unmistakable. There’s a bounce to your step as you lead Neuvillette away to whatever store has tickled your fancy, a brief glance thrown in Lyney’s way to make sure he’s still there. An afterthought at best.

As he watches you and Neuvillette parse through the menu of a cafe, the two of you standing so close that a fly would be hard-pressed to find a way between, he comes to the realization that there isn’t space left for him, that just as he thought before, he was the intruder here. The third wheel of a bicycle, the extra cog in a machine, a piece in a puzzle that doesn’t fit.

And it’s painful to acknowledge his own insignificance, but the truth has always been right in front of him, taunting him with your besotted look that isn’t directed at him.

He stands there quietly, thinking to himself that if he were in a play, this would be the prelude to the climax, the one where the unwanted third party finally leaves and allows the two lovers to be together.

So he does just that.

He bids you goodbye, claiming an excuse about promising Lynette to rehearse for their latest show. You’re sad to see him go, but it’s overshadowed by the smile that blooms on your lips when your eyes moves past him and onto Neuvillette. He watches it all with an acceptance akin to a man walking to the executioner’s block.

Lyney leaves, resignation heavy on his chest.

(He doesn’t see the sympathetic pair of eyes that follow his back as he walks away.)

✧

It had been relatively sunny outside that morning, only for a torrential downpour to begin that afternoon. It was during that sudden rainstorm that you knocked on the entrance to the house Lyney and Lynette live in, utterly drenched from the rain with a melancholic smile on your face.

Before Lyney could even begin to tell you to come in and ask you what’s wrong, you beat him to it.

“I confessed my feelings for Monsieur Neuvillette.”

And Lyney feels himself stiffen, limbs locking in place from where he’s half leaning on the doorway, half gesturing for you to enter his home.

He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised about it. He should have seen this coming from miles away—have seen this coming from miles away, he’d simply refused to believe what had always been in front of him. But for your feelings to go that deep that you’d confess…

Before he can fall down into an unending spiral of despair and self-recrimination, you once again upturn his whole word with a few measly words.

“He rejected me though.” You laugh to yourself, more self-depreciating than anything. “And… I suppose it was a bit presumptuous of me to assume that he liked me back.”

There’s a sadness to your eyes that Lyney hasn’t seen since you were children, having seen your first death. And now that same sadness is painted across your face, all because of one man who didn’t see the treasure that was right in front of him.

Lyney would have never done that to you.

But all of that matters little now, because you’re here standing in his doorsteps covered in rainwater, seeking comfort in him instead of anyone else. So, really, what else is he to do but step close and wrap you in his arms? Heedless of the fact that he’ll be getting his clothes wet.

You bury your face in his shoulder, reciprocating the embrace, your arms around him as familiar a sensation as the feeling of the wind on his cheeks and Lynette’s presence by his side. Constant. Something he will always remember.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” you murmur despondently. “He is the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and I… we are Fatui.”

Lyney feels a jolt of something zip through him at the mention of we, because yes, it has always been you and him (and Lynette and Freminet), him and you. The Magician and his most avid watcher. We, we, we.

So Lyney smiles despite your obvious heartbreak at Neuvillette’s rejection. A part of him knows he shouldn’t be thinking such things when you’re clearly upset, but it’s hard not to do so when his chest has felt the lightest it’s been in weeks.

Is he thankful that Neuvillette rejected you? No, of course not. Not when it’s brought about a melancholic sheen in your eyes and a downcast turn to your lips. But neither is he entirely against Neuvillette’s rejection of you.

He cards his fingers through your hair the same way you used to do with his, back when he still hadn’t quite mastered the art of carefully coiling his hair so that it won’t get in his face.

You eventually pull away, a look of acceptance on your face. Lyney doesn’t think much of it when he reaches out to grab your hand, it’s when you intertwine your fingers together that all thoughts and rationality promptly go out the window.

He wants you so much, and now that you’re finally here, here without anyone to hold him back, he’ll allow himself this one impulsive decision.

“Lyney, thank—”

“What do you say about lunch tomorrow? My treat,” he blurts out, only to immediately flush red when he realizes what he’s just said.

You pause, eyes blinking rapidly for a few moments before you crane your head and look at him, really look at him.

Beyond the mischievous smiles and the lenses of a childhood gone by, beyond the little acts of affection that you’d thought was common between friends—beyond everything that used to color your perception of him, stands someone who is looking at you as though you’re the only person in the entire world who matters. Not the boy who used to follow you around with wide eyes and a hesitant smile. Not the young magician who fumbled with his cards whenever you teased him.

No, this is Lyney. Just… Lyney, with his soft eyes and patient smile with the barest hint of nervousness in the corners of his lips.

And oh, how blind you must have been to miss this.

But you don’t dwell on it, on this newest revelation of Lyney and his feelings for you, because you’re you, and he’s him, and the two of you have an entire life’s worth of time to ponder over friendships and changes and love. It’s easy to place it in a back burner, to be analyzed when you aren’t so drenched in water and Lyney isn’t so deep in his own head.

So, instead of consternating over the realization that your best friend loves you, you settle for a teasing huff.

“Not even a day after I was rejected by my crush, and you’re asking me out on a date?”

Lyney only smiles wider. “Never let it be said that I’m the kind of person who wastes time.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you tell him, but there’s a grin that’s fighting to make itself seen.

“You love it.”

“Yes,” you say softly, “I do.”

It’s not romantic, the manner in which you love Lyney. But as you watch him fret about you needing to take a shower before you catch a cold, you don’t think it would be too difficult to fee the same way.

note: the truth is that neuvillette did actually reciprocate your feelings, it’s just that he realized that depriving lyney of the possibility of love feels almost selfish, and he believes that you’d be happier with lyney than with him. he’s immortal and you’re not, which solidified his decision to reject you bc he has years upon years to find love again while lyney only has a few decades with you. basically, he felt bad about stealing lyney’s crush. and yeah, it suddenly raining was a reflection of neuvi’s mood.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #gn reader #hm should this be considered neuvillette x reader too?

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sim0nril3y · 18 days

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Deployment

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: The time has come. It's his first deployment since you've become a couple. The goodbyes are difficult. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), lots of angst, talking of leaving, talking of dying, canon-typical swearing.

One more night. One more night in his arms. What if he didn’t come back? What if he got hurt? What if he went missing? Honestly, you weren’t sure that you could cope with the never knowing what happened. Please, please, let there be some type of miracle that might happen so that Simon wouldn’t have to go. Things had been going so well, it simply wasn’t fair. If only he had any other job in the world. If only he was still a butcher, or something normal like that. Why now?

“Sleep.” Even with his eyes firmly closed Simon commanded you to rest. “You have work tomorrow.” Simon sounded tired, you supposed it was 2am, he had a right to be tired. “I don’t care.” You answered with a sad and quiet tone, eyes fixed on his sleeping frame in the pitch blackness that filled the room. “The morning is going to come whether you sleep or not.”

There was silence for a moment and Simon wondered if you had actually listened and then he heard it. Sniff. Then quiet. Sniff, sniff. Then even more silence before. Hck. Sniff. Sniff. His eyes pried open, adjusting momentarily before finding your face crumbling with emotion, lips firmly frowned and trembling, eyes filling fast with tears that were trickling down your face and soaking the pillow beneath you.

“Babe.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. “Don’t… Don’t bloody cry.” Simon whispered, his own voice a little thicker than usual. “Oi, c’mere.” Then pulling you across the sheets into his arms, holding you to firmly in his strong arms. “You dozy bloody moo…” He whispered, soothingly rubbing your back in small circles as you hiccupped and sobbed into his throat. “I know, I know.”

Honestly, he’d never had to deal with this before. Of course, he’d been around other colleagues and watched how hard it’s been for them to be away from their loved once. For him, it had been a very long time since he’d been in this place before and it was never like he had someone waiting for him to come home. It added an entirely different layer of fear, there was that fear of exposing you to danger but there was always a fear of leaving you. It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he’d learned to love you, allowed himself to let someone new into his life and now there was the possibility it could be all ripped away in an instant. Simon wanted more time, but that wasn’t something he was going to be afforded.

Still, even as your tears flowed Simon just held you, strong and tight in his arms, shushing you and caressing you so gently until your body just succumbed to exhaustion. It brought him pain to think of you being apart from him in mere hours now, sobbing yourself to sleep without his strong arms and his kind words. Fuck, it had never been this hard before.

The following morning Simon was up bright and early to finish his checklist. It seemed that you were restless too and that early awakening lead to you following him around like a lost puppy, eyes watching the clock as if counting down the seconds. “Babe, I’m just going to put some fuel in the car. I’ll be back. I promise.” He’d assured when your eyes had filled with wayward tears as he nabbed his keys. “Sweetheart, can I take a piss in peace, please?” He’d begged as you chased him into the bathroom for the second time that morning. “I’m just going to get a loaf of bread from the other freezer, stay here.” He'd commanded as he unlocked the back door. “Babe, if you wanted to join me in the shower all you had to do was ask…” Simon had purred before you two fell into the steamy shower.

Later that morning you were munching down some toast, eyes fixed firmly on Simon as he made himself a strong tea. It was difficult thinking that tomorrow morning you would be going through this routine on your own. The thought alone was enough for a lump to stick awkwardly in your throat. “Right…” Simon began then, causing you to push down any of those awful feelings and focus. “I’ve left a list of numbers over there…” Turning he held his mug in hand and nodded in the direction of a lonely notepad, it was full of names and phone numbers and occupations. “Reckon they’ll be able to fix any problems you might run into, alright? I’m not gonna be able to be in contact all the time, so I need to know that if there is a problem here, or with you, or with the car that it’ll be covered.”

“Right.” You agreed gently, taking another solemn bite of toast. “Against my better judgement…” Simon continued, stepping across to sit opposite you at the kitchen table. “I’ve added you to my car insurance, use it when you need it, please don’t write it off.” There was almost teasing to his tone. “My driving isn’t that bad…” You grumbled and this only earned a smirk as he took another sip of his tea. “I’ve got all the utilities set up. The mortgage is on direct debit. I’m even paying that kid down the road to come a mow the garden whilst I’m gone, he’s happy to be making a little extra money and it’s one less thing for you to worry about, which means one less thing for me to worry about.” Simon explained.

A frown found your lips. “I’m capable of looking after myself and the house, you know…” Simon lets out a soft sigh then and replies. “I know, babe. I…” He seems to pause, as if taking a moment to find the right words. “I like to know that I’ve covered every possibility at home so I won’t have to worry when I’m out there…” Simon said it like out there was a very distant place, very cold, isolated and very far from you. “Okay?” Silently he was asking you to just trust him and give him these final few hours to make sure everything was set up in a way that gave him comfort, the comfort of knowing that you were safe at home. “Okay.”

The way that you watched the clock on the wall was like you were begging it for more time, making some kind of trade so that Simon wouldn’t need to go. Regardless of what you promised the time still came. There he stood loading his bags into the waiting cab, you stood a couple paces back wanting to give some space. “Let me drive you-” You attempted to persuade. “It’ll be too hard.” Simon answered with finality.

He closed the boot with a shunt and then turned to be looking at you. “It’ll be better to leave you here at home and then call you once I arrive on base. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. “C’mon now…” He muttered, watching as finally the emotion broke over your face, all that strength crumbled and the tears began to trickle once again. “Oi…” Simon muttered, wrapping you into his warm strong arms. Those same arms you wouldn’t feel again for month. Your last embrace. “It’ll be easier like this. I promise. Easier for you. Easier for me.” Simon whispered, squeezing you so tight in his bulging arms. “I love you.”

It was something so rare and so emotional that you actually gasped, glancing up at him through your watery eyes. “Love you too.” Your words came out less controlled, spoken through a sob. “Love you.” You added, as if to make up for the initial emotional sentiment like Simon might have not been able to hear you over the lump in your throat. “Call me-” “I will.” There was a solid promise.

Then one final kiss. It was searing, his lips pressed against your own so hard that you thought he might bruise you. You never wanted this kiss to end. You didn’t want him to climb into the cab. You didn’t want his promises or his declarations of love and devotion. No, you just wanted him…

A second later Simon detangled you from his arms and climbed into the cab. He knew that one of you had to be strong in this moment and that you were never going to be the one to walk away, so he needed to. Even if it hurt more than being fucking shot Simon needed to step away. He had duty. He had honour. Someday maybe you’d understand, or maybe you never would, but he hoped that at least you’d find some type of normality without him around…

Once he’d arrived on base Simon got back into a routine seamlessly, everyone thought of him as the emotionless and stoic ‘Ghost’. That was all that he wanted to be to these people. The less they knew about his life the better, that way he could shield you from anyone using you against him. He’d never forgive himself… however, there was one person that needed to know. Officially, he needed to speak to Price, if the worst should happen you’d need to know.

It was late. Far too late to be doing all this, but Simon knew that his Captain would still be up. Rapping his knuckles hard against his door a voice called out and in he stepped. John sat at his desk, pouring over paperwork on his desk and gifting Simon a very tired smile as he entered. “Captain.” He kept his voice firm and professional as he entered. “Lieutenant, what do you need?”

For a moment Simon stood quietly, mouth pursed as if he racked his brains for the right words. “My next of kin…” “It’s blank – like we discussed.” About to dismiss him when Simon spoke again. “I need it changed.” John seemed shocked by these words, the argument that they had over not having one and now to have him so quickly change his mind. “What do you need from me?”

John blinked, once then twice before collecting a form from his desk. “Just jot their details down…” Passing over a pen as he watched Simon began to diligently fill in the boxes. His hand-writing was just as he expected, messy and haphazard, but his mind only went to Simon’s homelife… John wondered, did he have someone special? Who was it? What were they like? How long had they known each other? What was the relationship? All these questions that John wanted to ask, but knowing Simon wouldn’t get a single answer. “If I die, tell her.” Yanked back to reality with one simple sentence. “Not some letter. No some top brass. You tell her, Captain.” Sliding the piece of paper back in his direction. “Don’t tell her how - she won’t cope with that.” John nodded. “For fuck sake, don’t show her a body if there is one. She’d never sleep again.”

“Need you to make sure she gets access to my pension. I want every fucking penny of it going to her.” Simon placed down the pen hard on the table. “My house. My car. The shirt off my dead fucking back. I want it all going to her. Okay?” There was desperation in his tone. This was a conversation they were meant to be having 6 weeks ago, with legal and suits around to sign it all off. Not the night before he was going to be put on a plane into a warzone. “Simon-” “John, please…” He didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that Simon was in anguish, his eyes were enough. “I’ll see that it happens.”

Masterlist | Ask | 10-04-2024

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delirious-donna · 2 months

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A Shaky Arrangement [Part Three]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: You've nowhere else to go, surely he wouldn't kick you out so easily? You are so very attractive after all...

pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: sibling bickering, mentions of food, SFW

Part Two | Series Masterlist | Part Four

Kento scowled.

He sat stiffly on the leather couch that occupied most of the living room space, watching as you took container after container out of a brown paper bag with a grease stain pooling at the bottom. The desire to march to the kitchen and find the surface spray and kitchen towel to wipe up any damage to his coffee table was rampant. But he didn’t. He sat still with a growing grimace.

“You think you could stop scowling at me?” you said from your spot on the floor, sitting cross-legged with your back to him. “I can feel your distaste crawling up my spine.”

“I am not scowling,” he lied mulishly.

“Yes, you are, but whatever. I did ask if you wanted to add anything to the order. You were the one to turn your nose up at Chinese takeout. I guess you’re used to the finer things in life, Mr Nanami.”

His mouth opened to respond, but he snapped it shut just as quickly. He would not get into a petty argument over his preference of cuisine. The sinking feeling of resignation reared its head once more. Could he honestly share his apartment with you for the next two weeks without you both at each other’s throats?

“Remind me again why am I even considering hosting you?” He half hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and sat forward in his seat until his elbows were braced upon his knees.

You paused. The chopsticks you were using to pile rice onto an expensive-looking plate froze in midair. At last, you twisted your neck to look around, adopting a sheepish expression.

He was right, as annoying as that fact might be.

This was his home, and he had every right to send you on your merry way, whether you had somewhere to stay or not–the latter being the case. You were sharply reminded of his stricken features when you explained your plight. How he had grabbed up the glass which you had just finished draining of whatever potent amber liquor he preferred and went looking for a refill. A large one. A large one which he swallowed in one long gulp.

Kento had the same eyes as his sister, Karin. They were rich hazel, and they had the strange ability to lighten or darken depending on their mood. They crackled like popping logs in a roaring hearth when joyful or amused and darkened to the deepest mahogany when angered or upset. This you noticed as he questioned you over and over, his fingers running ruefully through his hair and those eyes that followed your every nervous jerk or twitch became pits of darkness.

“Sorry,” you said quietly. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you into sharing something with me? I ordered way too much, there will be leftovers for days if you don’t.” It was your version of a peace offering. Anything to prevent him from backtracking on the shaky agreement you had reached.

Kento’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of leftovers crowding his fridge and the smells that might permeate into the fresh produce or homemade meals that were labelled and waiting to be eaten.

With a long sigh, he lowered himself to the floor and sat by your left elbow. “Fine. It is probably wise for me to put something other than alcohol in my stomach anyway. Serve yourself what you want and I’ll have what is left.”

“Aye, captain!”

“Don’t do that,” he scolded, rolling his eyes at your salute, but there was no heat in the words. If anything, he was amused and you smiled knowingly to yourself as you began to dig into the meal.

He must be truly mad to be entertaining this prospect, but there was something he liked about you, even if he tried his best to deny it. You pushed back against him. It was refreshing. Kento enjoyed your quick wit and the ease with which you conversed with him. Sure, it was often at his expense but it was enjoyable in a way it never had been before.

As the youngest ever senior partner at work, he commanded respect from all. The junior partners and even those on the governing board often bowed their heads in reverence when in his presence. Yet it wasn’t so long ago that he had been a fresh-faced college graduate eager to reach his current lofty heights and he wondered absently if you possessed the same drive and determination. You certainly weren’t easily intimidated.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Mr Nanami?”

So lost in thought, Kento almost missed your question. It took him a moment to process and when it finally hit home, he nearly choked on his bite of peking duck.

“Excuse me?” he spluttered, banging a fist on his chest to clear the blockage in his throat.

Your cheeks warmed in amusement, impishly shrugging whilst you toyed with the remnants on your plate. It had been on your mind for a little while now. Your host was handsome—a thought you kept coming back to no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

“I said, do you have a girlfriend?” you repeated.

“I don’t see what business that is of yours.”

He busied himself with rolling back the sleeves of his pristine white button up. Your lips quirked before you blew out a puff of air.

“Come on. It’s a simple question, no? Since you’ve agreed to give me a place to stay, surely I should know if I might run into someone else whilst I’m here.”

You had a point, and that bugged him. He was about to answer when you went on, nudging your elbow into his side and he caught a whiff of his body wash on your skin.

“Boyfriend then?” You baited him, though there would be no shame in it if he were more inclined towards his own sex. Other than perhaps the briefest disappointment. No! Shut that down now, you thought to yourself.

“Neither. If you must know.” He levelled an unimpressed stare in your direction and wiped his hands on a napkin.

How annoying the flare of hope that illuminated in your chest upon hearing his answer was. It had no place here, and you did your best to flatten your features into neutrality. You failed.

“I do, however, have a cleaner that visits each morning for a few hours to keep the place how I like it. I will alert Mrs McGarden that I have a guest so that she doesn’t enter your room without consent.” He nodded his head as if that was the end of the matter, trying and failing not to notice how you chewed your lip as if you were deep in thought. Cute.

“Speaking of rooms…” you trailed off as the first wave of tiredness hit you square in the face. It was early by your standards but the day had been filled with ups and downs like nothing you’d experienced before. “Where will I be sleeping?”

It was an innocent enough question, or you had meant it that way, but the lull that Kento left hanging over you both felt thick with something tangible but unknown. Right now your suitcase was still spread open wide on what you now knew to be his bed and you surely wouldn’t be sleeping there.

Before he could answer, his phone rang from the kitchen island, shrill and loud. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, hurriedly moving for the device and slipping down the hallway until he was out of sight.

“I can explain! Don’t yell.” The familiar voice said the second the phone was to his ear. Karin had finally braved his wrath and called back.

“I’ll give you two minutes.”

“Kento! I am not one of your underlings. Not that it matters, shut up. What was I saying?” Karin hissed through the phone and even without seeing her he knew that she was pushing hair out of her face as she always did when she was flustered or annoyed.

He sighed and silently counted to three. “Two. Minutes. Explain.”

“You’re meant to be out of the country, why aren’t you? I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” she hurried on, not waiting for an answer. Kento had long since known when not to interrupt his sister in full flow. “Mrs McGarden assured me that she would keep silent and I was only trying to help out a friend. She tried to refuse my offer. Said she’d find a couch or two to sleep on instead, can you imagine? You haven’t… kicked her out, have you?”

“I was firmly coerced into taking a vacation instead of attending the conference hence my presence. It seems I need to have words with Mrs McGarden as to where her loyalties lie, and no, I have not kicked your friend out,” he answered the questions in the order they were given, turning on the spot in his bedroom. “Though I have been sorely tempted,” he lied.

Karin audibly harrumphed. “Don’t lie, Kento, it’s not a good trait.”

“Who says I’m lying?”

“Oh, whatever. I don’t have time for your little temper tantrum. Y’know… I think she might be a good influence on you, relax you a little. You’re on vacation so maybe spend some time with your guest? She is very dear to me and I’ve got a lot of explaining to do since I never mentioned you to her.”

Kento could hear the genuine worry in her voice and it cooled some of the fires of his anger. His shoulders slumped and half-heartedly he agreed, even if he didn’t have any intention to do as Karin suggested. He would keep to himself and hope that you did the same.

He returned to the living room but found it empty. Glancing to the side he found you in the kitchen washing up the plates and humming. For a moment he simply stood and watched. Considering he had only just met you, he didn’t mind seeing you in his space and the words of his sister echoed in his mind.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he stated, finally making his presence known once more.

Smiling, you shrugged him off. “It was the least I could do, don’t worry about it.”

“Uh, Karin sends her apologies for the mixup. She assures me that she will make it up to you and explain everything when you see her next. Shall we pick a room for you now?”

Your chin jutted out, a wrinkle forming between your eyebrows at the mention of his sister. Kento could tell that Karin was going to be in for hell, and rightly so, when you reunited.

“Yes please, I’m pretty tired after… well, you know,” you stammered with an awkward laugh.

He did indeed know, though he would rather forget. Instead, he held out his arm for you to step ahead of him and followed you discreetly towards the two bedrooms that you could choose from.

The first was on the right and nearest to the living space, this was the room that Karin occupied when she visited and her mark was firmly stamped upon the interior. Kento watched from just outside the doorway as you tried and failed not to wince at the baby blue walls and the mountains of overstuffed pillows piled atop a cream bedspread with lace and frills.

In the corner stood her old dollhouse, untouched and in pristine condition thanks to a certain cleaner with whom he still needed to have several words with. You froze before it, curiosity lighting in your eyes and slowly you bent to inspect through the windows where the tiny families resided.

Before he could speak, you whirled around and brushed past with a soft apology for coming so close to him. Again, he could smell his body wash on you and he liked it even more this time.

“I don’t think this room will do,” you mused with downcast eyes.

“Not fond of dolls?” he guessed in what was more meant to be a joke but your guilty expression told him he had hit the nail on the head.

“There is another room, but… it’s next to my own. I hope you won’t mind?” Kento stalked forward and tilted his head in the direction of the room next to his.

You trotted after him and away from the prying eyes of the dolls in their fancy house, vowing silently not to enter that room again. You reached for him, anxious fingers clinging to the shirt encasing his bicep and tugging like a frightened child might do. It was his turn to freeze, his stare fixed on where you held him until he found your eyes and questioned the gesture without a word.

“You won’t tell her, will you? I just…” You shook your head and feigned a smile, you were being silly after all. “Nightmares as a child, that’s all.”

“My lips are sealed.” He smiled kindly until your hand fell away. “Now, come inside and see if this will do.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t, although he didn’t expect you were an overly demanding house guest even with the little he knew about you. He wasn’t above giving you his bed if it were necessary but it would be a last resort.

This room was decorated in soft pastel shades that were far less bright than the blue of Karin’s. The bed was turned down with what appeared to be an identical grey duvet to the one in the master bedroom.

There was a small vanity set opposite the window and a writing desk in the far corner. Everything was neutral in here, wiped clean as if it had never been occupied and it made you feel safe and warm.

“It’s perfect.”

Sitting on the corner of the bed, you glanced at Kento who stood respectfully in the door. He wasn’t looking at you, instead his eyes were wandering as if he were checking everything was clean enough. His frame filled the doorway, shoulders broad and imposing. Except you didn’t find him imposing, and that was the problem.

He must be at least five years older than you, not that you cared, you were a young woman not a teenager. You were reminded of how long you had gone without a boyfriend or even a lover. One night stands and casual situationships were never your thing so it had been some time since you had last felt an attraction like you did now.

This whole day felt like a fever dream.

You needed to rein in your train of thoughts but it was hard when Kento took a step deeper inside and the air seemed suddenly thick like syrup. His hands were deep in his pockets and finally he blew out a breath, making it easier for you to breathe too.

“If you’re sure. I’ll go grab your suitcase and bag for you,” he offered quietly.

It had to be your imagination but it seemed like he was struggling as much as you were. Although likely for a different reason. You were an unexpected guest and he very much seemed the type of person who was set in routine. You nodded your thanks and let him slip away.

“He is your best friend’s brother, get your act together woman! Stop lusting over him,” you scolded yourself in a hushed whisper.

It was going to be a long two weeks, that was for sure.

#delirious writes #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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oikasugayama · 4 months

Note

Late happy new year!! First of all, I just wanna say that I LOOOOOOOVED ur akutagawa nsfw alphabet!! It was really in character imo especially cuz I've started simping for him a lot lately. Can I request an nsfw alphabet for Dazai??

Happy New Year!! Thank you, I'm so glad you liked it and I find it very satisfying that you thought it was in character!!! Hopefully I can do Dazai's NSFW alphabet the same justice :D

Dazai honestly kind of fucking sucks at aftercare. It's not that he neglects you or pushes you away or anything, but he does the bare minimum because he's already in shut-down mode after using all his energy to fuck you nice and good. He'll cross his ankles and lay back with his hands behind his head, grinning up at the ceiling and you'll have to roll over and cling to his side and tell him to hold you. He does it happily, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “You were so good for me,” he whispers. “I can't wait to do that again.” It's nice but it's about all he does, letting you both fall asleep sweat-sticky and covered in cum. The showers in the morning are incredible, but the stains on the bedsheets are annoying.

His favorite body part is your tits. He likes that they fill his hand nicely. He likes playing with your nipples and making you whine. He likes just holding them and squishing them. He likes that he can look at them at absolutely any point in the day and they’re just pretty and nice and he can’t help it, he’s just a man, he likes boobies. He especially loves when you’re cuddling and you let him hold your boobs just for fun.

He’s an expert at making you cum on his tongue. He loves lapping it up and slurping it out of you and sucking it off his fingers. He doesn’t play that “it’s okay if I don’t cum” shit. You’re going to cum, especially if your past partners haven’t made you. He’s obsessive about his goal and he will pull out all the stops to make it happen. And when you go down on him, he sure likes when you swallow his cum but he won’t make you because he likes it just as much splattered across your face.

His dirty talk game is unparalleled. He’s a fucking demon. Part of what makes it so intense is that he’ll start it absolutely anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you’re at work, in public, with friends, on the phone, or at home in peace. If he wants to turn you on, or if he wants to fuck with you, he’ll use his low, calm voice and lean in so, so close. He’ll crowd into your space, slowly pull your hair back from your shoulder, tuck it behind your ear, and say something like “I bet Kunikida could use a lesson on how to eat pussy. Why don’t I spread you out on the table so we can teach him?”

He doesn’t talk about how experienced he is, but based on how skilled he is, there’s a good chance he’s had a lot of practice. He never confirms whether that’s the case, or if he’s just picked up all his tips and tricks through his vast study of human anatomy. If you expressed that it truly bothered you to not know, he’d confess that he’s actually not been with that many people and that yeah, he knows what to do because he studied extensively, but if you don’t ask he won’t tell. He likes to keep the suave facade.

His favorite position is pretzel (cartoon depiction). You both like how deep he can get in doggy, but he wants to see your face. Watching your reactions to what he does to you is his favorite part of fucking, so he found another position. You lay on your side with one leg in the air, he straddles your lower leg and fucks you from there--he loves it, he likes holding your leg and kissing it while getting balls deep and watching your eyes roll back as he fucks the deepest part of you.

He absolutely can be goofy in bed. Sometimes he’ll randomly stop all movement and start laughing, and you have to ask what happened, and he can have a range of weird ass responses. One notable one was “I don’t know why but in my head I just called my dick ‘my little dinky’ and now I can’t stop laughing.” He genuinely collapses on top of you laughing about that one and eventually once the laughing has subsided his hips lazily start humping you again and it’s so ridiculous and you just have unserious silly-talk sex after that.

Dazai honestly kind of hates hand-jobs. It’s not that he doesn’t like your hands--they are nice and soft and he likes holding them or having them roam over other parts of his body!-- but if he’s getting pleasure on his dick he wants it wet. Your mouth, your pussy, or even your ass if you’re into anal. He wants his dick in something tight and wet that he can cum deep inside.

He absolutely loves fucking in inappropriate locations, hence why he dirty talks with you anywhere he so pleases. He honestly needs a partner who’s a bit more respectful of appropriate sexual spaces than he is otherwise he’d do something ridiculous like sneak you into Chuuya’s office and fuck you over his desk just to piss off his old partner if he catches you in there. Actually, he’d really like to do that, now that it’s on his mind…

He jacks off a lot :/ He hasn’t had a partner in a long time and as much as he flirts with people he’s not actually very successful in pulling one night stands. This is why when he has a partner he wants to cum inside of them rather than because of their hand-- he’s so fucking sick of his own hand. If he has to jack off one more fucking time he might launch himself off the roof. Please for the love of god let him cum inside.

He definitely has some kinks. He likes sensation play, he likes edging and orgasm denial, he can absolutely get into impact play if you want him to spank you. He doesn’t want to be degraded or talked down to because no matter how much it’s reaffirmed that it’s only words during sex, his brain tends to hold onto it and obsess over it. He doesn’t really like to degrade you either for the same reason; for his own mental health he needs the verbal focus to be filthy rather than insulting.

When he realizes he loves you, the way he fucks you changes. At first you’re having fun, he’s blowing your back out every night, he’s eating you out for so long and so intensely that you’re sensitive and sore for hours. When he realizes he’s in love with you, he lays you down gently, making out with you slowly and sensually. His hands move very delicately, tickling you and teasing you. He fucks you missionary this time, staying as close to your body as he can. His thrusts are slow and measured and he keeps kissing you, kissing your neck, occasionally moving down to suck on your tits before coming back up to say you feel so good and “fuck, thank you,” and when he cums he might accidentally whimper that he loves you.

His sexual motivation is mutual pleasure. He has a high sex drive once sex is a habit for him again (i.e. when he doesn’t have to masturbate to get his rocks off). He wants you every day and he gets whiny if he can’t have it. (The best time to dom him is when one of you has been away for a few days and he’s desperate to get his hands on you--push him down, tell him to shut up and do what you say, and he’s putty in your hands). Like mentioned before, he doesn’t play with that “you don’t have to make me cum” shit. He! Will! Make! You! Cum! Or! He! Will! Die!

Also as mentioned, Dazai says NO to most degradation. Once you point out that calling you a dirty little whore and a cock slut technically counts as degradation he’s like “okay, well that’s fine,” but he never allows anything like “you’re useless unless you’re being fucked,” because his brain stops after “useless” and it just makes him feel bad. Almost anything else he’d try. He’d honestly be turned on if you dragged the tip of a knife around his body (without cutting him). He’d think it’s hot to watch you fuck someone else (but he’d have to be tied up otherwise he’d get jealous and rip that other person off of you). He doesn’t want to fuck anyone besides you unless it’s as a threesome+. You have to be involved.

Dazai fucking LOVES GIVING YOU ORAL. Again, he has studied human anatomy immensely. He knows exactly what to do to make you cum. He knows how to move his tongue, where to move it, how fast, how long. He knows how to finger you at the same time to double or even triple your pleasure. He could literally eat you out until his lips wrinkled up from being against your wet pussy for so long. He definitely gets hard from eating you out and could rut against the bed and nut in his pants from making you cum.

He has no pace preference; he very much goes for what the day demands. Sometimes you’re grumpy or cranky and he’s pent-up and feels like brat taming and he gets you into bed and fucks the absolute shit out of you. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed with how much he loves you and he takes such sweet, slow care of you. It all depends on how you’re both feeling!!

Dazai will never turn down a quickie, though it always leaves him wanting more. If you both work at the ADA he’ll coincidentally run out of pens and offer to go get more from the supply closet at the same time that you leave the office to go to the bathroom--and then he’ll follow you in, lock the door behind you, and fuck you against the sink, hoping none of the other girls need the toilet for the next 15 minutes.

He definitely will take sexual risks. He’ll fuck you at work, he’ll ask you for a blowjob any time you pass a random alleyway, he’ll put your hand on his crotch under the table at dinner, he’ll try to finger you under your dress in the back of a car as someone drives you home. He’s a little horndog. He’ll also take the risk of cumming inside you even if you’re not on birth control--he insists you’ll find a way together to take care of any consequences but please please please let him cum inside it feel so good he wants it in you it’s so hot please let him please please please.

Dazai has a lot of stamina, thus why he can eat you out for hours at a time. He could start teasing you or making you cum in the morning and still drag orgasms out of you by the end of the night. It’s about pacing. He’ll have you bounce on his fingers, cum on his tongue, then he’ll fuck you doggy in front of a mirror and after cuddling you while idly playing with your nipples for almost an hour he’ll be hard again and have you ride him, and on and on and on and on…

What doesn’t turn Dazai on? He’s a simple man. You could walk into the room, flash him your tits, and his dick will literally spring to life. Just look at him and say “I want to have sex. Do you?” and his balls twitch. He likes when you’re confident and when you pretend to be a sweet little innocent thing for him to wreck. He likes you in clothes and out of them. He thinks it’s hot when you say something smart. He thinks it’s hot when you use your ability. He’s so smitten by everything you do.

He can be unfair as fuck in bed. It’s not even funny. Yes, his policy is that you will cum by the time he’s done, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to cum fast, or even as many times as he does. He’ll edge you for literal hours meanwhile he’s cum so many times he’s literally shooting blanks. He’ll edge you for so long and so intensely that when he finally says “okay, you can cum” and he flicks his tongue over your clit, you bust almost instantly. He was the Port Mafia’s best interrogator, remember? He knows how to make someone squirm and now he uses it to sexually torment you.

Volume: HIGH. He’s loud in bed and he wants you to be too. If his neighbors (sorry, Kunikida and Ranpo!!) aren’t sending him angry texts to shut the fuck up or buy them noise-cancelling headphones as an apology, he must not be doing a good enough job and he needs to up the ante! He doesn’t try to be loud, he just lets his body do whatever it wants, and what it wants is to moan and shout and yell. He makes you do it, too, telling you that his neighbors can’t hear it (lies). He loves when you scream after he’s edged you for so long. He wants your screams of pleasure to drown out all the memories of screams of torture that he used to cause.

The most out of pocket sexual wild-card that Dazai pulls on you is *dramatic drumroll* fucking you in Chuuya’s office. Yeah, after he mentioned it that one time he couldn’t stop thinking about it and so he dragged you to the PM buildings, snuck inside with you, found Chuuya’s executive office and started absolutely going to town on you. You’re honestly kind of scared shitless, but he reminds you that if he falls, the PM goes with him, and you calm down a little…until the office door opens, and Chuuya starts screaming at Dazai for being in here and also What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you were kidding!! Wait, what? Turns out Dazai not only told Chuuya he was going to fuck you in his office, but he invited Chuuya to join and Chuuya jokingly said “yeah, if you can manage to sneak into my office with some hot babe I’ll tag team her with you,” and shit, here you are (o_o) [i wrote it, click here to read]

Dazai likes watching x-rated videos with you to get ideas. Sometimes the best way to find new positions or find new roleplay ideas is to watch porn together, sooooo… You know he never does work at home, so whenever he has his laptop out it’s gotta be time to cuddle against his side and watch porn like normal people watch reality TV. “Ohh, this one’s labeled ‘sex education’ and it’s called ‘top 10 best sex positions’.” “Do you wanna try wife-cheating-on-husband roleplay?” “I can pretend to be a plumber coming to fix your sink and you can coerce me into sex for payment?”

If you ask Dazai why he’s so obsessed with sex and why it seems to be the only thing he thinks about or wants to do with you, he’ll do some serious self-reflection. He just really desperately yearns for you, and for closeness to you, and he doesn’t really know how to fulfill that so he resorts to sex because the climax of an orgasm definitely gives him a wave of good feelings. Turns out, he likes sitting with you and having deep, serious conversations as well. He feels weird opening up about dark things in his past, but when you do it because you trust him, he realizes he trusts you too and tells you things he’s never told anyone. He learns that he can be close to you without sex (but he’s still a horndog, he still needs it).

Dazai likes fucking you to sleep. He likes imagining the little zZzZz floating out of your mouth when you’re still spread out on the bed, naked, sweat still drying on your skin, pussy still glistening with cum and wetness as your exhausted body makes you sleep after finally cumming after hours of play. He always tries to tell you that if you close your eyes after you cum, you’re going to fall asleep, but you never heed his warning and it happens all the time. He just lays with you and takes a little power nap <3

#ask answered #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #technically also chuuya headcanons #technically also chuuya x reader

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jellieland · 1 year

Text

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

#once he's sure that the thing he's decided to pretend was not grian is gone #martyn goes back to falling #and wishes he still felt enough grief to be able to cry.#limited life smp #life series #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing #i finally managed to finish this. it took me. a while.#they're narrative foils to the point of absurdity is the thing #they're incredibly similar and also completely different #it's fascinating

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luffyvace · 3 months

Text

MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3

Bathing together is SUPER FUN

and messy

you have lots (too many) bubbles

and yes bath toys

even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-

like sticks-

let him tell it they’re swords

he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care

even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀

so he canonly bathes once a week right??

with you !! He can bathe at any time!

why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆

you turn it into a game! an adventure!

so now he looks forward to bath time ;3

luffy splashes water everywhere

I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️

it takes you FOREVER to clean up

but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH

”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”

actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋

tell him sanji’s making food!!

ez way to get him out 😎

The final boss tho??

is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up

especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️

Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉

unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)

your not getting any help buddy..

he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️

but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)

which leads me to…!

Cleaning together !!

which turns into a game too :P

well, more like a competition-

Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning

even with meat on the line 🤭

‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘

- according to luffy

so yes! You propose a competition!

and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!

now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏

you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜

he may have won the battle but you won the war

eating together can also sometimes be a competition

now you can win by playing it smart like Uta

or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying

but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..

and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..

Luffy stealing your food!!!

😦😦

no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️

it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂

if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed

with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind

and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍

however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that

thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)

If your more carefree like luffy

i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once

oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet

dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..

but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not

if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama

he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍

he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth

especially as his s/o

if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent

and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!

and that you can at least hold over until he gets there

then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!

he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous

if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!

he just wants to know your safe :)

Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.

he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality

and even then he doesn’t judge that!

point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.

he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!

Luffy loves you.

He simply does.

and there’s no explaining why.

These were short but sweet<3

to which i hope you enjoyed them💗

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luneariaa · 3 months

Text

ღ || you are loved.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : kento nanami x reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 1k+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : the memories of the previous events that ever happened in your life disrupts your whole thoughts. being the amazing husband he is, he comforts you during one of your bad days.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : reader having a pretty rough childhood, nanami is your husband here, men in family have shown to be giving a bad influence but none too explicit, disturbed mindset, not much proof-read, and basically just family issues. plot going nowhere near the end ig lmao.

✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : as someone who also had a pretty rough childhood and a rather chaotic family, i just decided to write and post it out in order to feel some sort of relief thru this. i'm so sorry to those who can relate; sending lots of love and hugs for y'all!! i'm so proud of you guys for able to make it through this day! 💛🌻

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 💫

To others, your family might be seen as a happy one; having positive, peaceful maintaining relationships. But no one really knows for sure, on what truly happens within that place you called home itself.

What is the purpose of it all, if not to retain a healthy, loving relationship between family members? Each one should’ve practised themselves to strengthen their familial bonds with one another.

But instead, whatever you have wished for– it’s all for nothing.

Growing up in a rather chaotic household does leave your mind dazed at times. You would sometimes even find yourself to be so confused, and believed that most people couldn’t be trusted the way they are. And it’s not by your choice, sadly, you can't help it.

Especially men, in general. You would’ve loved to believe that it’s just some sort of a generational issue, but you don’t even know yourself anymore.

As a result of all the chaos that’s been happening for all those possible years, you’ve grown to be a quite introverted person– reclused, even, not really fond of the idea of opening up to others. It’s so hard for you to do so, especially when it’s already one of your habits that you’ve been doing for so long.

Initially, you even feared the idea of marriage as well, believing that you won’t ever meet the love of your life at all; along with the thought of you not being good enough to be someone’s wife.

But that changed when Kento Nanami came into your life some years later. Although you’re still struggling with your own habits, whether good or bad ones, Nanami always tries his best to help you with whatever he can.

You don’t even remember how and why did you agreed with having a serious relationship with him. Perhaps, you’ve seen something in him– or even, on what he gave you, provided you something that you’ve been missing from in your life itself.

Sure, you can be quite closed off at times, even when it’s unintentional, but he always and always will try to guide you with doing the actual, right thing.

Nanami treats you with pure, utmost respect that comes off as so natural to him; never once yelling or using any harshness at you, especially with his own words. Even when you somehow are being stubborn or so right at that moment, he would always be patient with you, and even give you some space if you needed it.

He’s so sweet and loving, mature, responsible.. The list just keeps going on and on. Heck, he even remembers every single detail that you may have told him, your favourites, your habits, and so on.

Nanami was never the one to rush into things. He takes his tender time with it, especially when it ever comes to you.

He would always speak directly and bluntly; not intending to sugarcoat his words in a way, yet his words never did hurt your feelings. There’s just something about his honesty that draws you in further. It leaves you confused sometimes– was it even the way he talks to you?

But just by his own presence, whether his way of speaking or his actions itself; something about it heals your inner self. It soothes your soul wonderfully, like a warm sunlight coming out from the clouds after the rain occurred. You feel safe and comfortable around him over time.

The time being spent between the two of you is never lacking or dull– with both of your personalities, which are quite the opposite from one another, complements and balances out each other so, so well. And this is due to how you both work on your relationship together as well.

Never once does it feel forced; the deep relationship bond between you both flows ever so gently like the river, and in order for the water to continue flowing without any disturbances, it needs the mere effort from you two.

Despite everything, there’s a part of you that feels so out of place. Perhaps, there’s a side that you believed to be unlovable, and that you’re just not enough. Of course, you wouldn’t even bother to tell him since you didn’t want to potentially burden him with your own problems.

But it’s Nanami that you’re talking about– and he’s the type to notice every single change in your expression. He can always tell if something is causing your own mind to be restless.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Nanami’s soft tone broke your temporary state of trance, stepping inside within their shared bedroom and gradually approaching your form. You didn’t even realize that you’ve been standing and staring in front of the mirror for several passing moments now.

The thoughts of self-doubt and questioning about your whole existence disappears in mere seconds.

He gently wraps his strong arms around your unmoving form; resting his chin on your shoulder while gazing back straight at your own reflection in the mirror. A small smile appears upon your lips, and didn’t even make any attempt to remove himself from you since it feels so nice at the very moment.

“Nothing.”

His touch alone is enough to soothe your own possibly hurting soul– calming and any trace of hurriedness not in sight, yet your brief answer doesn’t really ease his worries. He knows.

“I know you, darling, I know that’s a lie. You’ve been staring at yourself for the past few minutes.” Nanami didn’t even try to hide his true emotions at this point, keeping his hold around you. He didn’t have to. “Is there anything bothering you? Please tell me, I’m here to listen.”

You’re completely aware that there’s no point in lying to your beloved, so with no choice, you decided to tell him all of your pent-up troubles.

“I just don’t feel special. It’s just one of those days, you know..”

Talking it out is always one of your biggest fears and struggles, and he understands on how hard it is for you to do it every time. Instead of forcing you to speak even further, he slowly turns you around, just to give you a proper embrace.

One that you really, really needed.

“Sometimes–” your words came out more choked out if anything due to the tears you’ve been holding back. “--I wondered what made you choose me as your wife. I’m nothing more special than just a damaged person who needs to heal and move on. But it’s hard.”

“I’m beyond happy with it, truly I do. It’s just that.. My unwanted thoughts could get in the way at times, and I just feel so troubled with myself in general. I don’t feel I deserve someone like you, and you deserve someone far more better.”

“I’m just so grateful for having you in my life– I truly do. You healed something in me, you really did. I’m just worried that whatever I do will never be enough.”

Nanami falls silent at first, which makes you worried for a while there, afraid that you might overstep with your own words of admittance. His mind is racing for a second there, contemplating each word of truth that he has to tell you.

“Darling, I chose you; I chose you out of everyone else because I wanted to.” He still couldn’t understand as much as how you could see yourself in that way. Nanami is never mad, but deep down, he’s genuinely sad at how you view yourself.

Nanami gently uses one of his hands to lift your chin up, completely making sure that you return the gaze that he’s currently giving you. “I don’t care what anyone says. You are everything that I ever wished for, and your little imperfections are what made you so perfect to me.”

“And I never intend to pick anyone else in a crowd of people– I will always choose you. If anyone ever tells you or me that you’re not special, then they’re wrong. I will prove them otherwise, I promise you.”

His gaze never once faltered from yours, wanting to make sure that you’re listening and focusing on every word he says. Your eyes alone have an effect on him, simply captivating in every sense.

It did have an effect on you– feeling yourself getting on the brink of tears, yet still trying your hardest to not have a mental breakdown in front of your beloved. Not yet.

You keep repeating, and repeating on each word that he says internally. His honest yet sweet statement has left you in a tongue-tied state. You are still not used to it sometimes, even forgetting that this man ahead of you clearly loves you dearly and possibly more than himself.

Your husband took quick notice of this, and simply held your form closer to his. The least he could do is to provide some needed comfort, and how he very much wished that he’s able to get rid of any trace of sadness that existed within you.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you..”

His voice is so soft, not once hinting any irritation whatsoever as he comforts you. You really cherish him, more than words could ever describe– even wishing that you’re able to repay his efforts.

Nanami will always guide you back, and slowly try to make you drift away from any traces of negativity that you’re facing. Of course, it’s not easy, but he’s willing to try it together with you.

Always so gentle and protective in his own way; it wouldn’t matter on how old you both are getting. The love he has for you shall remain and live on as long as he’s breathing, and he will always shield you from any potential harm from the world itself.

“Even beyond the flaws that you believed to have possessed, you are still worth everything that this world has to offer. Those little flaws are what made you, you.”

He keeps on telling you the words that he always wanted to tell you; one that is filled with complete honesty and love within it. To simply remind you on how much your existence meant to him, and it successfully pushed your emotions further to the edge– unable to contain your tears any longer.

Yet still, he continues on with his own words– all the while placing several feathery kisses onto each part of your face that he could reach. The feeling itself is quite overwhelming, yet comfortingly so, knowing that you are truly being loved by someone special.

The past that you have endured may stay with you for as long as you live, but Nanami is willing to help; willing to create a better future instead for the both of you. For your mere sake.

“I will always love you; every single inch of you, and even your flaws. I will make sure of it– always reminding you of that.”

#aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you

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hana-no-seiiki · 8 months

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a little more on midnight darling yans (go check out the tag for them - they’re all basically college based ones) but with a professor! reader.

professor! reader who’s on the younger side. actually the youngest prof in their region and very accomplished for their age.

the only problem is that they’re an absolute whore and regularly sleeps with every faculty member. and i mean every faculty member.

(janitor got his back blown too)

they haven’t crossed the line and done the deed with a student yet but from the amount of ppts they get which include increasingly detailed and accurate tid bits about them and their escapades (+ pp) makes them think they kind of have to at this point to maintain peace and prosperity.

there’s definitely a club just named after them. perhaps a new building funded by one of the more affluent students.

…

maybe even a course just named [y/n]ology

they have to switch up their routines everyday otherwise the swarms of people gets worse than it already is. it’s normal to see a bunch of students and faculty hanging around the classroom theyre in (and if your classroom has a window like mine does in uni there are literally people whose face are smooshed against the glass just staring at you)

the uni definitely uses you in a lot of their marketing. it works a bit too well on the first year and almost little to no students have other subjects as their first choice. tons of em try to shift to your area regularly. it’s pure chaos.

when classes are cancelled there are literally hundreds if not thousands of people rioting just to let it continue so they can see you again.

you get free food and transportation every day. people already know where you live whether you were careful about it or not. but you often use some yans to combat the ones that try to take you in your home.

as for the food, people often scramble to have a thing they either bought or cooked in your mouth. you used to eat those until you fed one to your co-worker who in turn got drugged.

also cause there have been cases of semen and god forbid period blood being found in your food offerings.

life is going good. you plan on going to teach abroad soon. you don’t know how well your uni will take it however…

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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

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Chapter 9: I Promise

Summary: You agree to go to the Laredo Sheriff's Department's annual summer picnic. When Javi's co-workers bring up an unexpected topic of conversation, Javi begins to learn more about your life before Laredo.

Word Count: 11.5K (Is it bad I'm impressed with myself that this isn't longer?!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), shower sex, period sex, creampie, praise, masturbation (f), talk of drug use/overdose, grief/loss, PTSD (reader has a panic attack), drinking/alcohol (reader also gets a lil tipsy), mentions of food/eating, Javi's co-workers being assholes (not Carter and Miller, we love them), Javi being protective of you, Javi just wanting to give you every ounce of his love because he cares about you more than life itself

A/N: Okay y'all. I had to do it. I want nothing more for Osita and Javi to live in a world of sunshine and rainbows where they are nothing but happy all the time, but, sigh, that is not how life works. Osita's got some things Javi needs to learn about her past, and it's happening, whether we like it or not. This chapter really does have it all- pool parties, trauma, Jell-O shots, Javi talking about babies (I'm screaming too, it's okay), you name it, it's probably in there. Also, Osita's brother Patrick is inspired by sweet Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier because UGH. ALRIGHT, STRAP IN YOUR SEATBELTS AND ENJOY THE RIDE!!!

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“C’mon, Peña, you gotta come, you’re like, the only guy in our whole department who hasn’t RSVP’d yet.”

“Seriously, man. It actually is a good time. Free food, free booze, hanging out at Morris’s pool all day? All the other guys bring their wives and girlfriends, too, so you can even bring your girl, if you want.”

It had been almost two weeks since the flier for the annual Laredo Sheriff's Department Picnic landed on Javi’s desk. It had also been about two weeks that Agent Carter and Agent Miller had spent every day harassing Javi about coming to the party, claiming it to be one of their favorite days of the summer ever since they started working for the department a few years back.

“Yeah? And who are you two idiots bringing?” Javi scoffed, shuffling through the folders on his desk as Carter and Miller leaned in the doorway to his office.

“Low blow there, Peña, but okay.” Carter grimaced as he put his hands on his hips. “Listen, just think about it, okay?

“Just RSVP before tomorrow or Barb is gonna lose her mind if she doesn’t know exactly how much Potato Salad to make. I told her that you’d tell her by then, and I don’t need another reason to be on her shitlist.” Javi and Carter shook their heads at Miller, not understanding how he was constantly finding ways to piss off the receptionists in the front office.

“Fine. I’ll let her know by tomorrow.” Javi responded, not looking up from his paperwork. “Now, don’t you idiots have anything better to do than stand in my office?”

Carter and Miller gave each other a quick high five, finally working at least a somewhat definitive answer out of their boss before they headed back to their desks, finally giving Javi a moment of peace.

Javi sighed as he pulled the brightly colored flier out of his desk drawer, staring at it for a few seconds before setting it down on top of one of the manilla folders, running his hands through his hair. Social gatherings had never been his thing. To be honest, he really hated them. During his time in Colombia, the best he could normally muster was occasionally getting a drink at the bar, dreading the small talk, politics and ass kissing of every conversation. All he really wanted to do was sit by himself and drink enough to ease the pain and misery he felt with each day that passed in that God forsaken country. But he had to remind himself that this wasn’t Colombia anymore. His days of drowning his loneliness in liquor were behind him. Even when the sting of his time away haunted him, he had to remind himself of the life he now had in front of him.

You.

He had you. You had taken his world and turned it around. When he looked at you, he saw a life of everything he had ever wanted and never thought he’d have. You’d given him a chance at a future. If you’d asked him a little over a month and a half ago if he ever saw himself settling down, he would have probably laughed in your face. But now? The thought of you as his wife? A mom? To his children? A family that the two of you would build together? He’d marry you today and give you a football team’s worth of kids, if that’s what you wanted.

Fuck, he hoped that’s what you wanted.

He would have let himself play out the rest of that fantasy in his head for as long as he could, if it wasn’t for the grumble in his stomach, loud enough to snap him out of his daydreaming. Javi looked up at the clock, realizing he had worked his way almost an hour past his lunch. Lately, he’d had the luxury of spending practically every night at your apartment, you insisting that you wake up with him every morning and make him breakfast and lunch before he went off to work. Even though he had stayed over last night, he practically had to force you to stay in bed this morning, trying to tell him that your headache wasn’t even that bad after you practically winced in pain when he turned on the light to get himself ready. He’d promised you that he’d be just fine going out to get lunch today, and that he’d call during his break to check in on you.

Pulling back up to the parking lot of the station after stopping at Alejandro’s Deli to pick up a sandwich (and extra chips and a cookie for you when he came home), Javi opened up his cell phone to call you, taking a bite of his lunch while the dial tone rang.

“Hi, Jav.” Your voice instantly spreading a smile across his face.

“Hey, Osita. You feelin’ any better?”

“Yeah, a little I guess. I’m an idiot, I should have known this was gonna happen.”

Javi scrunched his face in confusion. “What? How were you supposed to know you were gonna have a headache this morning?”

“I uh…” You paused for a second, letting out a huff of nervous laughter. “I uh, I totally forgot I started my period today. I always get really bad headaches when they first start, and considering it happens every month, you’d think I’d remember, but apparently not. Makes sense why I cried at that commercial of the dog getting adopted yesterday.” You both laughed, it now making a lot more sense to Javi why you had seemed a little off the past few days. “I um… I know you were gonna come over after work today, but, um, don’t feel like you have to.”

He paused, trying to read the tone in your voice. “What do you mean? Do you not want me to come over?”

“No, I do, sorry, it’s just- If you’re weirded out by it cause you think it’s gross or whatever, I understand-”

“Hermosa.” He interjected, cutting you off.

“Yeah?”

“It’s not gross, and I’m not weirded out by it. It’s totally normal, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m still planning on coming over tonight unless you tell me otherwise. I’ll pick up dinner and we can hang out and watch a movie together, sound good?”

“O-okay.” He could practically hear the relief in your voice through the other end of the phone.

“I gotta head back in to work, but I’ll call you when I’m leaving and you can tell me what you want for dinner and if you need me to pick anything else up for you, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Javi. You’re the best. Have a good rest of your day. I love you.”

“I love you too, Osita. Bye.”

I love you. God, it never got old.

Knock, knock, knock.

You were glad to hear the familiar tapping of Javi’s knuckles against your apartment door, the promise of his presence bringing you joy in what otherwise had been a pretty miserable day, considering how terrible you felt.

“It’s unlocked!” You yelled from the couch, curled way too deep in your blanket with your heating pad to bother getting up.

“Baby, you really shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, makes me nervous when you’re here all by yourself.” Javi grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door before setting down all the things he was carrying in his hands on the kitchen table.

“Sorry, Mr. Safety. You know I normally do, I really just didn’t want to get up if I didn’t have to.” You replied sheepishly. Even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, it didn’t take you long to figure out that Javi was incredibly overprotective of you. He knew how stubborn you were, and that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, but that didn’t stop him from double checking all the locks in your apartment before you went to bed, or making sure that you told him if you going out somewhere so he didn’t worry if he called your apartment and you didn’t pick up. Was it a little much? Yes. But did it absolutely melt your heart knowing he cared so much about you? Also yes.

You popped your head over the couch to see Javi in the kitchen with 2 different grocery bags, a pizza, a McDonalds’ bag, and flowers. “Javi, what the hell did you get?” You laughed as he stood at the table, unpacking the items.

“Well, I got two different types of tampons because I wasn’t sure which ones you prefer, a box of Midol, a Twix bar, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, a bag of potato chips- the wavy kind because apparently those ones taste better, pizza for us for dinner and McDonalds french fries for you, because even though you said you only wanted pizza on the phone, you still brought up the french fries like 4 goddamn times. And flowers, just because.”

When Javi had called to tell you he was leaving work and asked what you wanted for dinner or if there was anything else he could pick up for you, your only answer was that you just wanted pizza and that maybe fries also sounded good, but not to worry about it. You hadn’t asked him to get you anything else, and yet, he showed up to your apartment with all of your favorite snacks, pain meds, flowers and tampons. It didn’t help that you were already emotional, feeling yourself on the brink of tears realizing just how much Javi cared about you. Jesus, this man was too good to you.

“Jav, you didn’t have to get all this. Thank you. God, I love you.”

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything you need, just let me know, okay? I love you, too. You hungry?”

“Absolutely. Tell that to the sleeve of Oreos I already crushed earlier today.” You both snickered as Javi put away the rest of the groceries and changed out of his work clothes before bringing you both over a plate of pizza to the couch, yours with extra fries. “Thanks for still wanting to come over tonight.” You said gently, shuffling over to snuggle next to Javi on the couch, leaning against his shoulder as you took a bite of your dinner.

“Osita, you don’t need to thank me. I just want to be here for you, whatever it is that you need. I just feel bad you have to go through all this shit.”

“Just another one of the wonderful perks of being a woman!” You rolled your eyes, sarcastically, taking a bite of your fries. “To be honest, there is a tiny bit of me that was relieved today. Not that I don’t trust it or that I don’t take it religiously, but phew, my birth control has really been working overtime this past month, so I’m glad to know you didn't beat it. ” You both quietly laughed to yourselves, Javi swallowing before taking another bite of his pizza. He was quiet for a moment, but you could practically hear the wheels turning in his brain, like he was calculating his words before he spoke. Little did you know, at that moment, his head was flooded with his thoughts from earlier today, imagining the life you two could have together, if you’d let him. Maybe there was a subconscious part of his brain that wished he had beaten your birth control, because you were both a little unprepared for the next sentence that came stumbling out of his mouth.

“Would you, uh, do you, um, not right now, but do you… Do you ever want kids?” He looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath before turning back to you, anxiously waiting for your response.

Oh fuck me. As if you weren’t already enough of a hormonal mess, the thought of Javi as a dad? Little baby Peñas? Oh God, you could practically feel your ovaries bursting at the seams. You’d be blatantly lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about it, but hearing him be the first one to say it out loud? Oh boy. You fought with everything in you to not burst out in an ear to ear grin, trying to mentally compose yourself before answering the question. “Um, yeah, I do. I always have. Like you said, not right now, but yes. I- I do. Do you? Want kids?” You looked over at Javi, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, his cheeks red and face flustered.

“I um, I used to, before Lorraine and Colombia, and uh, those both kinda fucked me up for a while. I just kinda figured it wasn’t in the cards for me anymore.” His gaze shifted towards the ground again, staring there for a moment before shifting back to you, his sweet brown eyes locking with yours, the softest smile gently spreading across his lips. “I didn’t think I would anymore, but uh, things are… things are different now. I do, too. I definitely do.”

“Okay. Good to know.” You didn’t even bother trying to hide your smile this time, the best you could do was bite down on your tongue inside your mouth to try and keep you from grinning like a complete idiot. You nestled closer into Javi, pressing your head against his chest, smirking to yourself at how fast you could feel his heart racing as you leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, placing a long, soft kiss on the top of your head as you both sat there for a moment in blissful silence.

“Sooooooo, what movie do you want to watch?” You asked, trying as hard as you could to not spontaneously combust from the conversation the two of you just had.

“Your pick, Osita.”

“Return of the Jedi?” You smirked, knowing how much Javi had been dying to watch it since you showed him The Empire Strikes Back a few weeks ago.

“I was hoping that’d be the one you’d pick.” He got up excitedly, shuffling through the VHS tapes under your TV before pushing it into the VHS player and hitting play. He repositioned himself on the couch so you could lay your head down on his thigh as he rubbed your back. “So, don’t feel like you have to, but uh, the department is throwing their annual picnic thing next weekend. I’m not sure if I wanna go, but if I did, would you wanna come with me? Sounds like it’s kind of a big thing, Miller and Carter have been on my ass about it since I’m supposed to RSVP by tomorrow.”

“Well number one, I think you should go, if Carter and Miller are being that big of a pain in the ass about it, it has to be at least a little fun, right? I’ve never met them, but from what you’ve told me, they seem like they enjoy having a good time. Number two, I would absolutely love to come with you. I think it would be really nice to meet your co-workers. Or I guess, technically re-meet some of them if they came to present at school before you did.”

“You mean you didn’t purposely trip into them to get their attention, too?” He chuckled, thinking back to the first time you had met.

“Oh shut up, I did not trip on purpose!” You playfully nudged the leg you were resting your head on. “I just happened to be very lucky that you were incredibly handsome and charming, and were nice enough not to let me fall and embarrass myself in front of the entire 3rd grade.”

“Whatever you say, Osita.”

“Oh just shhhh and watch the movie, you meanie.”

About halfway through the film, belly full of pizza, french fries and half the Twix bar Javi had gotten you, you could feel yourself getting sleepy. You were now laying on top of Javi, your face on his chest and his arm on top of your back, fingers running back and forth across your shoulder blades. You felt so warm and comfortable pressed up against him, it wasn’t long before you could feel your lids beginning to droop, your blinks becoming slow and heavy before your eyes finally closed, shortly followed by the sounds of your soft snores against Javi’s chest. It had become very apparent to Javi that no matter what movie or TV show you picked to watch, if you were cuddled up against him, you were out like a light in no time. To be honest, he didn’t even care. There were few things in the world he loved more than you lying against him, falling asleep wrapped in his embrace. He truly hoped he’d get to spend the rest of his life explaining the second half of every movie you missed while you were fast asleep in his arms.

Mmmmmhmmmm, Javi…

Oh, fuck, babyyyy

It feels so good….

Ahhhhhhhh, please-

“Ahg! Fuck!” You shot up in your bed, grasping at your sheets, your breathing heavy and labored as your eyes sprung open, greeted by the darkness of your bedroom. You paused for a moment, grounding yourself, shaking your head as you scrunched your face tightly before opening your eyes once more, looking over to find Javi still sound asleep next to you.

Fuck, it was a dream. A good one at that, holy shit.

You ran your hands through your hair, taking a few more deep breaths as you found yourself now wide awake, and very horny. You peeked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, finding that it was still a good thirty minutes before Javi usually got up for work. If you weren’t on your period, you probably would have just woken up Javi to help relieve how worked up you had gotten from your dream- It wouldn’t have been the first time, and he certainly wouldn’t have been mad about it. But this was the first time you had been on your period since you started dating him. For as amazing as he was, there was one fact that you weren’t going to put past him. He was still a guy. Every guy that you had dated before him had all felt the same, and you assumed he would too- That he would wait for your period to be finished before wanting anything to do with, well, down there. That left you with two choices.

Be an absolute horny mess until he left for work and then take care of yourself, which would probably still be another 2 to 3 hours from now.

Take an extra early shower and take care of yourself before he wakes up

Yeah, it was gonna have to be option two.

Very quietly sneaking yourself out of bed, praying that Javi didn’t wake up for at least a little while longer, you tiptoed out of the bedroom, gently closing the bathroom door behind you as you turned on the shower. Besides it being fairly spacious for an apartment, another huge perk of your bathroom was the detachable shower head installed in your shower. Considering how much fun you and Javi have had together in the past month and a half, it had been a while since it had been put to use for its non-intended purposes. Once the water was warm enough, you stepped over the ledge of the tub, giving yourself a quick rinse before grabbing the shower head off the wall and bringing it between your legs. The jets of warm water splashing against your already throbbing clit were enough to at least start to ease some of the ache that was pooling in between your thighs, even though you desperately wished it was Javi who was helping you to relieve your neediness. You closed your eyes, reaching back for the memory of your dream that had woken you up just a few minutes ago, picturing Javi bending you over your couch as he plowed into you, over and over. You began to fidget the shower head in your hand, the water spraying back and forth against your sensitive nerves, feeling the heat begin to pool in your belly.

“Mhmmmm, fuck, Javi…” You whispered to yourself, the image of him fucking you deeply and intensely overtaking your brain. You could feel yourself edging closer to you high, your breathing becoming deeper as you imagined him whispering those filthy, sweet nothings into your ear that he knew made you absolutely crumble. You were so consumed by the thought, that you hadn’t heard Javi get out of bed, had definitely not heard him as he opened the bathroom door, and were absolutely unaware of the fact he was now also wide awake and coming to check on why you were showering at 6:00 AM.

“Hey, baby, is everything o- Oh.” He stopped himself midway through opening the shower curtain, realizing what he had just walked in on.

“AH, Jesus Christ, Javi!” You screeched, dropping the shower head to the ground as you grabbed at the cool tiles of your shower wall to try and keep you from falling over. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” You panted, trying to catch your breath, scrambling to put the shower head back up in its rightful position.

“Sorry, I uh, I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed and heard the shower on, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His face now a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

“No, yeah, um, I’m fine, just um, you know, just, uh…”

Think you idiot, think! You have to at least try to come up with a reason before you die of embarrassment.

“Baby, it’s okay, talk to me. What’s going on?” Those stupid puppy dog eyes. When he looked at you like he was right now, no secret was going to be left untold.

“Fuck. No, I’m fine, it’s just…. Fuck this is so embarrassing. I just, I had this dream and I woke up really horny, but I knew you weren’t gonna wanna do anything because I was on my period so I figured that-”

“Hermosa…” He chuckled, taking off his boxers and tossing them on the floor before stepping into the shower with you. “When I told you if you needed anything, I meant it. This included.” He stepped closer to you, reaching down to grab your ass and nip at your neck leaving you stunned, trying to think of what to say next.

“But, it’s just that, I just figured… Every other guy I’ve been with-” He placed a long, hot kiss on your neck before mouthing at your jaw, and whispering in your ear, the rasp of his voice making you shutter.

“Well I’m not every other guy you’ve been with, am I? If you want it, sweet girl, you’ll get it. All you have to do is ask.” His hand snaked down your front, reaching under to rub his fingers against your already painfully sensitive clit, as you let out a pitiful whimper.

“Javi…”

“Just ask, baby. Ask me and I’ll give it to you.” He began to trace his fingers in slow, lazy circles around your mound, savoring every second of how already worked up you were.

“Javi, I want you to fuck me. Please I want you to fuck me so bad.” You burried your head into the crook of Javi’s shoulder as you moaned.

“There you go, Osita. That’s all you had to do. Hands on the wall, pretty girl.” You quickly complied, turning around so your arms pressed up against the tile, your back arched towards Javi as the warm spray of the shower hit your body. Javi stood behind you, one hand resting on your hip as he used his feet to nudge your legs open just a little further, the other stroking himself before feeling his tip slide against your folds. “Jesus, fuck me, you’re already so wet, Hermosa. What were you dreaming about that’s got you so worked up, huh?” He groaned, collecting your juices along his cock as he traced his length along your heat.

“You, Javi. Fuck, I dreamed that you were fucking me and bending me over the couch, God, it felt so good.” You babbled, your brain short circuiting as he continued to run up and down you, your cunt clenching around nothing as you desperately waited for him to fill you.

“Christ, Osita. Gonna have to save that one for later, aren’t we? How do you want it, baby? Wanna make sure you feel good.” He nipped at your shoulder as you could feel him lining himself up with your entrance.

“Hard. Fuck, I want you to fuck me so hard, please.” You were almost on your knees begging at this point, you needed him so badly.

“You sure that’s what you want, sweet girl?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he finally pushed into you, taking you no time to adjust to his size with how worked up you already were. You finally felt him bottom out, his pelvis pressed against your ass, as he waited for you to respond.

“Yes, yes, I need you Javi, I need you so bad.” Those were the last words you could find before you felt him pull all the way out before pounding back into you, making you cry out as you felt him brush against your cervix, every inch of him splitting you open. He quickly set his pace, fast and deep as he snapped into, each thrust making you whimper from the sweet stretch of how he filled you. The walls of the bathroom were rapidly covered with the obscene sounds of your moans and skin smacking against each other, drowning out the noise of the running water from the shower head above you.

“Is this what you want, baby? Taking my dick like the good girl you are, letting me fuck you like this?” He gritted his words through his teeth as he rammed into you at a punishing pace, leaving you an absolute mess. His fingertips dug further into the soft flesh of your hips before freeing one of his hands to wrap around your front, thumbing at your clit.

“Javiiiii, yes, fuckkkk, fuck.” You whined. The way he was pounding into you was making your vision go white, leaving you barely hanging by a thread as he wrapped his hand around your chest, pulling you to stand as he palmed at your breast. You could feel the tingle at the base of your spine building, your pussy beginning to flutter as his fingers ran faster and faster over your clit, his cock driving into, filling you completely. You could feel your legs begin to shake as sweet nothings fell from your lips, falling apart underneath him. “Fuck, Javi, I’m gonna, Ohmygodohmygodahhhhhhh.” You screamed out as you came undone, hitting your high with a rush of pleasure, Javi’s grasp around you the only thing keeping you from falling to the shower floor. With only a few more thrusts deep inside you, Javi followed suit, grunting as he spilled deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his seed covered every inch of your walls. Catching his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, as you gasped at the loss, legs shaking as Javi released his grasp around you.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You swallowed as you sat down on the edge of the tub, laughing to yourself. “You fucked me so good I don’t think my legs work anymore.” Javi joined in your laugher, extending out his hand to pull you back up to stand, cupping your face as he engulfed you in a deep, tender kiss.

“Then my work here is done.”

He winked at you as you rolled your eyes and playfully poked at his chest before he was peppering your wet body with the soft sweet pecks of his lips, spending the rest of your shower in a much better mood than when you entered it.

“Are you sure people are actually wearing bathing suits to this thing, or am I gonna show up looking like an idiot?” You shouted from your bedroom at Javi, who had been waiting for you in the kitchen after packing up the pasta salad you had offered to bring to the Sheriff’s Department Picnic today.

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m sure. It says it on the flier- pool party, bring a swimsuit. I’m also in my bathing suit as we speak, so I can guarantee you will not be the only one there in one.” He laughed to himself as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“Well that’s different, you just look like you’re wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I swear, guys have it so easy” You grumbled to yourself, finally deciding on a bikini before throwing it on and slipping on a coverup as you headed down the hallway. “You ready?” You asked, grabbing the bag of towels you had packed by the front door.

“Really? I don’t get to see before we leave?” He raised an eyebrow at you, seeming disappointed by the coverup you had put on over your swimsuit.

“Yes, really. We’re already 45 minutes late after you spilled all of our breakfast on the floor after deciding you needed to fuck me on the kitchen counter this morning. Knowing you, Javi, we’re gonna be another 45 minutes late if you see me in this bathing suit before we leave. Let’s go, you horn dog.” You laughed as you shook your head, grabbing your things as you opened the door to leave.

“I didn’t hear you complaining… And we’d only be another 10 minutes late, I could make it fast.” He winked, grabbing the cooler he’d packed before locking and closing your apartment door behind you.

From the amount of cars lining the street leading up to the Morris household where the annual picnic was being hosted, you were convinced you could have shown up 2 hours late and no one would have noticed. The impressive house was nestled on a corner lot at the end of the subdivision street, lined with other large homes in the newly built neighborhood. You and Javi were both relieved to find that the beverage cooler was one of the first things you found as you walked on to the large lot behind the house, already bustling with people, music blasting from the speakers by the pool.

“Jesus, they weren’t kidding when they said this was a big deal, huh?” You looked up at Javi as he handed you one of the beers he had grabbed.

“Fuck, I guess not.” He grimaced, taking a sip of his own drink before an older, broadly built man with salt and pepper hair approached Javi, outstretching his hand towards him.

“Peña, good to see you. Glad you could make it.” You had a feeling it was Dean Morris, Javi’s boss and the host of the party, based on what Javi had told you about him, though his face looked semi-familiar to you.

“Thanks for the invite. Beautiful house. Uh, Morris, this is my girlfriend-” Morris cut Javi off before he could finish the rest of his sentence, re-extending his hand out to you as you reciprocated.

“Ah yes, I believe we’ve actually met before. I think I’ve had the pleasure of already meeting you one of the times the department had to come down to Alma Pierce. That’s a tough gig, if I do say so myself. Hard to keep those kids focused.” The wires clicked in your brain, remembering that Morris was the one who had made 80 3rd graders cry after talking about watching people get murdered by the cartel during his presentation. You politely smiled, pulling away from his handshake.

“Yeah, it definitely is a lot of work to keep their attention. Thank God for summer vacation.”

“Well, I definitely would have paid a lot more attention in school if a pretty lady like you would have been my teacher. Bet those little boys love being in your class. And their dads, too. Isn’t that right, Peña?” He let out a harsh and brash laugh, taking a hand and patting it on Javi’s back. “Daniels, you old bastard, is that you?” He shouted at one of the newcomers entering the party. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a buddy who just showed up whose balls I need to bust.” He nodded to both of you as he sauntered off, leaving Javi with a horrified look on his face.

“Well, he seems absolutely charming.” You grimaced your face before taking another, much longer sip of your beer.

“Jesus, Osita, I’m so sorry. I should have said something, he’s my boss and I-”

“What are you talking about? I love when men do that to me.” Your voiced oozed with sarcasm, absolutely hating everything about how so many men felt entitled to degrade you about your profession as a backhanded compliment to try and tell you that you were attractive.

“You get that a lot?” Javi’s face now looking more concerned.

“Way more than you’d think was socially acceptable. Not the first time I’ve heard it, and to be quite honest with you, I’m sure it won’t be the last today.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long swig of your drink as you watched Javi’s jaw clench, his thumb rubbing along the tops of his fingers as they balled up in a fist.

“Listen, if if any of these other bastards try to say shit to you, I have no problem putting them in their fucking place.”

Your face went flush as you felt your heart pound a little heavier in your chest. You’d really have no problem handling yourself in telling any man to kindly fuck off if they were bothering you, but something about the way Javi’s protective instincts seemed to kick into overdrive had you feeling hot and bothered.

“Cool your jets, killer. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need you to put anyone in their place.” You giggled, mocking him as you pressed up on to your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.

“I know you can, Osita, just- some of the guys I work with are assholes who have no interest in being respectful. You absolutely are fucking sexy as hell, but you’re smart and funny and kind and you deserve to be treated that way.” He looked out around the crowd of people in the backyard before looking back down at you, sympathetically.

“Thanks, Javi. I promise, I’ll be okay. The hockey player in me has no problem picking a fight if I need to.” You nudged Javi as you continued to walk further into the crowd. As you looked over the sea of people, you noticed two men frantically waving at Javi over by the pool, the taller, lankier one giving Javi an overexaggerated thumbs up as he looked in your direction, the shorter, stockier man next to him looking like he was rapidly nodding in agreement.

“Looks like you’ve got a little fan club over there.” You laughed, giving a big thumbs up back to the two as Javi palmed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” He whispered to himself as he saw Carter and Miller trying to flag him down in the crowd.

“Carter and Miller?” You asked, still laughing at the pair and Javi’s embarrassment as he nodded his head. “Well, too late to escape now, let’s go say hi. At least that way we can be by the pool.” You grabbed Javi’s hand as you headed through the crowd.

“Peña! So glad you came, man! We were hoping we’d see you! This your girl?” Carter smirked, raising his eyebrows at Javi as he gestured towards you.

“I’ve actually never met him before, he’s kidnapping me and holding me at ransom to come to his party. No, I’m just kidding, yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you both, Javi’s told me a lot about you.” You smiled, reaching out to shake both of their hands as they laughed.

“She’s fuckin’ funny, Peña. I already like her more than you.” You laughed as Miller elbowed Carter in the gut, causing him to drop his beer, spilling it down his shirt as it fell to the ground.

“Way to go, ya fuckin’ doofus.” Carter groaned, peeling off his shirt. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ pool and then you’re getting me a new beer.”

You were relieved to see that there were actually a fair amount of people in the pool, and it wasn’t a pool party where everyone stood awkwardly around the edge of the water without actually ever getting in. “Hey, I have to go drop off this pasta salad anyways, why don’t I grab you another one and then I’m about to get in the pool too. I love the heat but it feels like the surface of the sun out here. Does that work, Jav?” You asked, setting down your things before striping yourself of your coverup, revealing the light green, strappy bikini you had on underneath. You weren’t someone who was usually overconfident in themselves, but you did know that this particular bathing suit made you feel pretty damn good. As the 3 men turned around in response, Javi’s jaw just about dropped to the ground as he saw your swimsuit. “Javi?” You asked again, looking back up and the 3 who were all speechless, staring at you.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, that sounds great, Hermosa.” Javi responded, his mouth still hanging slightly open as he looked you up and down.

You grabbed the pasta salad from the cooler, walking over to Javi and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before whispering in his ear. “Told you we would have been another 45 minutes late if you saw me before you left. Keep it in your pants, Peña, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” You gave his earlobe a quick nip before pulling away, giving him a wink as you walked over to the other end of the pool to set down your food.

“Fuck me.” Javi muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you as you walked away.

Javi turned behind him to see Miller and Carter quite literally biting their tongues, taking every ounce of willpower they had stored inside them to not ogle at you as you walked away.

“I’ll say it once and then I’ll shut up about it, I promise, so please don’t kill me, but Jesus Christ, Peña, you are one lucky man.” Miller looked at Javi as Carter nodded rapidly in agreement.

At that moment, Javi wasn’t even mad, because those two idiots were absolutely right. He was a lucky man, indeed.

You were glad to see that Javi, Carter and Miller were already in the pool when you returned, your arms full of 4 beers and 4 Jell-O shots sitting on top of them. You tossed the drinks to each of the boys before sliding off the ledge into the water to join them. “I don’t know who Kevin is, but he very adamantly insisted that I take all of these Jell-O shots. The Laredo Sheriff's Department definitely seems like they enjoy having a good time.” You laughed as you popped the lid off your little container, slurping down the mixture and grimacing at the terrible vodka aftertaste it left behind. “Jesus, these are strong.”

“Told you it was fun!” Miller said, motioning at you for one of the Jell-O shots. He took his, also scrunching his face after. “Yeah, knowing Kevin these must be double, probably triple the normal strength.” Carter followed suit, as you passed off the last one to Javi.

“I’m good, Osita.” Javi smiled at you as he held up his beer.

“You sure?” You gestured at him, waving the little plastic container at his face.

“Yes, I’m sure. I told you I’d drive home. Either way, those look fucking disgusting. Plus, I have yet to see you drunk and was promised some obnoxious singing after you’ve had enough to drink.” He leaned over, kissing you on the head before you stepped back crossing your arms at him.

“Only if you’re lucky, Peña.” You winked as you slurped down his Jell-O shot, sticking out your tongue in disgust after you finished. “Uck, I think that one was worse than the first.”

It didn’t take long for you to make good on your promise of a drunken sing-alongs to Javi, already feeling decently intoxicated after your two beers and Jell-O shots. You were all giggles and smiles, feeling especially flirty Javi considering how hot he looked, all tanned and toned, the broadness of his shirtless shoulders practically taking you out at the sight of them. Javi was glad he was sober enough to keep his composure with the way you were dancing around him, seeming like you were finding any excuse to touch him and drive him absolutely crazy. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t fill him with a little sense of pride, that even as his co-workers stared at you long enough for Javi to shoot them a very subtle I swear if you keep looking at her like that, I’ll kill you look, you still looked at him like he was the only one there at that party, like there was no one else in the world you’d rather be with than him. After one of the speakers had finished blaring “Tubthumping”, who you had drunkley insisted to Javi was sung by “The Chub Chubs”, making you crack up in hysterics every time you said the name, you hopped out of the pool, telling Javi you were going to piss your pants if you didn’t go pee right this second. Javi insisted that he go with you to help you find the bathroom, not because you weren’t more than capable of doing it on your own, but because he didn’t trust a single one of any of his fucking co-workers with the way they had been looking at you, who were now equally, if not more drunk than you were.

Javi wrapped you up in your towel before taking your hand and leading you through the crowded patio and into the house, where you found the bathroom, tucked around the corner of the kitchen. “I’ll wait right here for you, okay?” He said, giving you a sweet smile as you opened the door.

“You better be, you’re not allowed to disappear on me, or I will be very sad that I don’t get to stare at your handsome face the rest of the night.” You crossed your arms at him, poking his bare chest as you giggled to yourself.

“Go pee, you dork.” He laughed as he shook his head, gently pushing you into the bathroom, very amused by your drunken state.

As he closed the door behind you, he couldn’t help but keep laughing to himself as he listened to you singing along to “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls over the sound of you flushing the toilet, now pressing his ear against the door as he heard you talking to yourself as you washed your hands.

“You know what I wanna be?” You pointed to yourself in the mirror, giggling at yourself as you wiped your hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “I wanna be Javi’s wife. Oh my GOD, I love him so much. I wanna have that man’s babies, cause ho-ly shit. Jesus, he’s gonna be such a hot dad. Like, the kind of dad that comes in a parent teacher conferences and all the teachers go that's a hot dad, and I can be like, he's my hot dad. Wait, not like my- ew not like my father, that's not what I meant, but you know, you're the one talking to yourself. Okay, pull it together ya drunk ass, that’s a long way off, but a girl can dream. Go get back out there and find your sexy ass boyfriend, dummy.”

That was the second time today Javi found himself with his jaw practically on the floor, trying his best to compose himself as you stumbled out the doorway. “What are you smiling at?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, leaning against the doorframe, cheeks red and grin wide.

“You have a good talk in there, Osita?” He smirked as you stood there in shock, just about ready to die from embarrassment.

“Did… did you hear what I said in there? Please tell me you didn’t hear what I said in there. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my goddddd.” You buried your face in your hands, unable to bring yourself to even look at Javi.

“You really think about all that stuff, hermosa? All that stuff you said?” Even with your hands covering your painfully scrunched face, you could feel his sweet brown eyes practically burning a hole into you, leaving all of your secrets exposed.

“Of course I do. All the time. I know I’m drunk, but my pants are not on fire because I am not lying. And I’m not even wearing any pants. Wait, that doesn’t make sense…” drunkenly lost in thought, Javi reached down, grabbing a handful of your ass before tilting his chin up towards you, his thumb stroking along the line of your jaw.

“Jesus Christ, I love you so fucking much, you know that?”

“I do, because you tell me all the time and I love you very, very, very, very lots of verys much too.” You giggled, smiling up at him. He leaned into you, planting a soft kiss on your lips, his mouth sweet and tender against yours as they met. He grabbed your hand, locking his fingers between yours as he led you back through the house, his eyes glued on you as you shuffled your way through the crowd.

“Peña, I was hoping I’d see you again!” Javi stopped abruptly as a large hand grasped around his shoulder, making him turn around to see the group of men standing around the kitchen table you were just about to pass. Morris’s gruff voice had you both freezing in your tracks, already bracing yourself for whatever stupid, inappropriate comment he had up his sleeve. “Listen, I was hoping to talk to you about something, just the two of us. Do you have a few?”

Javi looked at you with remorse, knowing there was really no polite way to say no to his boss who was already practically dragging him away from you. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Javi replied. “Just if it could be quick, okay? I don’t, I don’t wanna leave her here all by herself.” He gestured, nodding his head in your direction.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, I wouldn’t wanna be away from such a pretty woman for too long either. Besides, she’s in good hands with these fine gentlemen, right boys?” He looked at the rest of the men still gathered around the kitchen table. You could almost feel Javi burning a hole with his eyes into each one of them, giving a look that said, you say or do anything stupid and I’ll fucking end you. It seemed everyone at the table picked up on the message as Javi gave you one last sympathetic smile before Morris dragged him away into the living room.

“So, you Peña’s girl?” One of the dark haired men asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Uh, yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet all of you!” You tried to muster some courage, looking at the group of men now staring at you, feeling drastically more sober from the awkwardly uncomfortable circumstances you now found yourself in.

“I’m Hernandez,” the man pointed at himself, “that’s Callahan,” he pointed at a taller, blonde man, “this is Richards,” a stockier man waved at you, “and this is Estrada.” Another dark haired man raised his drink at you as you tried to smile, waving back at them. You introduced yourself, the men silently laughing to themselves, as Hernandez spoke again. “Almost couldn’t fucking believe it when we found out Peña had a girlfriend, never though I’d live to see the day, that’s for fucking sure.”

You pretended to laugh along with them, not really sure what he meant by the comment, but definitely knowing it didn’t make you feel great. “So um, what do you think Morris is talking to him about?” You asked, trying to see if the group had any insight why Javi’s boss was so insistent on speaking with him.

“Oh, Mexico, 100%.” Estrada responded quickly, the other men nodding in agreement. “Gettin’ so fuckin’ bad down there, Morris has been on the phone with the DEA every other fuckin’ day trying to get Peña to go.”

You could instantly feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. They wanted to send Javi down to Mexico? They couldn’t just do that, right? There was no way he would go back to something like that, would he?

“Fuckin’ DEA big shot Peña, Morris trusts him because of all the shit in Colombia. I heard it’s a goddamn mess across the border and they’re starting to get desperate.”

“Couldn’t pay me enough money in the fucking world to go back to doing that shit, but I don’t know, sounds like Peña’s done enough fucked up shit to last him a lifetime, so what’s a little more, right?”

It was like you had become invisible, the way they were talking about Javi in front of you. What the hell were they talking about? What had he done that was so bad? Was he ever planning on telling you? You could feel how fast your heart was pounding, your palms beginning to sweat as panic crept through you.

“Someone’s gotta fucking do it. Richards and I were running the numbers the other day and the amount of coke they’ve got coming across the border now is fucking insane.” Callahan shook his head, setting his now empty beer bottle on the table amongst the large pile that had seemed to accumulate between them.

“Listen, you guys already know how I feel about this shit.” Hernandez sighed, shaking his head. “The cartel is obviously a fucking problem, but it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for all the dumbass crackheads out there snortin’ this shit off the streets like it’s no one’s business.”

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. Your hands began to tremble, your mouth painfully dry as you tried to swallow, frantically looking around for Javi, desperate to find a way out of this conversation as you felt your anxiety skyrocket. You knew where this conversation was going. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t go through another conversation like this. Not again. Your brain was flashing images in your head as you heard your ears begin to ring, everything around you feeling like it was moving in slow motion.

“He’s got a fuckin’ point. There wouldn’t be such a market for it if people weren’t so desperate to get their hands on it. Don’t these dumb motherfuckers realize how stupid they have to be to use that shit?” The men all laughed, their smug looks burning a hole in your chest as you felt your throat tighten with each breath. You tried with everything you had in you to fight the tears welling in your eyes, praying they’d stop or that you could find some way out of the conversation before you collapsed over the brink of full blown panic.

“It is sad, the death count from that shit’s higher than it's ever been.” Richards chimed in, trying to bring some rationale to the discussion.

“Honestly,” Hernandez spoke, breaking from his laughter, taking a swig of his beer, “and I hate to fucking say it, I do, but if these junkie bastards know better, it’s what they fuckin’ deserve.”

That was it. Your brain snapped, sending you into full blown distress as you felt like the room was collapsing in on you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, pounding in your ears, as your body went numb, taking every ounce of strength in you not to fall to the floor in full blown hysterics. You couldn’t listen to this conversation anymore, not able to wait however long it would take for Javi to come back, you made up some half coherent excuse to the group that you needed to go get something from the car, desperate for someplace alone, away from everyone. You stumbled through the crowded house through the front door, trying so desperately to pull yourself together until you were back outside, away from anyone’s concerned looks and questioning glances. As you stepped off the front porch, the concrete sidewalk pinching against your bare feet and hot Texas sun pounding down on your skin, you burst into tears. Each sob was painful, your chest tightening with every breath you took as your mind raced at a million miles per minute.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve it. You tried so hard to help him. Was it my fault? Did I not do enough? Where’s Javi’s car? Where’s Javi? Please don’t let Javi leave. He can’t leave. I can’t do it again, I can’t do it, please, fuck, I can’t do it.

Some way or another, you had managed to make it down the street to Javi’s truck, desperately shaking at the locked door handles before falling to the ground, legs curled up against your chest in a ball as you leaned against his tire, letting your fear and panic consume you whole.

Back inside, Javi had finished his conversation with Morris, frustrated and annoyed he had taken up so much of his time with something he had absolutely no interest in. As he got back to the table where you were supposed to be, his defenses went up instantly, trying to find you. “Where the fuck is she?” Javi demanded, looking at the group of men talking amongst themselves at the table.

“What?” Hernandez asked, barely looking at Javi.

“My girlfriend, you fucker, where the hell is she?”

“Jesus, calm down Peña. I don’t know, she said something about going out to the car.” Hernandez turned back to face the rest of his friends as Javi began storming his way through the party, pushing past people as he bursted through the front door, practically running down the street towards his car. His heart stopped when he found you, curled on the ground in a sobbing heap against his truck. In an instant, he was on the ground with you, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around you, his heart racing almost as fast as yours.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Osita, talk to me, are you okay? What happened?” His words were desperate and frantic as they fell from his lips, pulling you tighter in his embrace as you tried so hard to catch your breath, to get even just one word out as you sobbed against the soft skin of his chest. “Breathe baby, just breathe. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here.” He took his hand, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you closer, the presence of his touch helping your mind to slow down for a moment, trying your best to stop your shallow, shaky breathing. “There you go, Osita. It’s okay, baby, deep breaths. Just breathe, I promise I’m right here, it’s okay.” You could feel him trying to slow down his own breathing, taking long, deep inhales and exhales as you rested against him, your face wet and messy buried in the crook of his neck as he held you.

He’s here. Javi’s right here. He’s here.

You repeated the words over and over again in your brain until you could feel the strain in your chest begin to ease, forcing yourself to take one deep breath after another, slowly starting to find relief from the panic that was flowing through you. Javi said nothing, just holding you as he breathed with you, squeezing you as hard as he could, like he was afraid if he let go, you would float away. After a few more minutes, you finally lifted your head off Javi’s chest, your eyes red and puffy as your cheeks glistened from the wet flow of your tears. Javi cusped your face so gently, his brown doe eyes heartbroken as he looked at the state of pain and fear he had found you in. “Baby, are you okay?” His words were shaky too, like he was pleading for something, anything, to know that you were alright. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, gulping down the tears you still were fighting against as you slowly nodded your head. “Osita, please talk to me. Please.”

You weren’t even sure if you were going to be able to form a coherent thought. Tears streamed back down your face, your lips quivering and hands shaking as the wall that separated Javi from what you were about to tell him came crumbling down. It felt like your brain was short circuiting, your words beginning to flow out of you like a faucet who couldn’t be turned off.

“They said, they said, they wanted you to go to Mexico. To go back like you did in Colombia, because of how bad things were there. But you can’t go back Javi, please I can’t lose you, I can’t lose someone again. It was like they were blaming him, like it was all his fault, it wasn’t his fault, it was my fault, I did everything I could, but he came back and he wasn’t the same. Please, Javi, you can’t go, I can’t do it again, I can’t do it, I can’t watch someone I love leave and come back a different person and let it ruin their life. Please Javi, you can’t leave me like Patrick, I can’t do it again.”

Oh. Oh, Fuck.

You fell back into Javi’s arms as the thoughts in your brain kept flowing from your mouth, sobbing between each sentence pressed against the tear stained skin of his chest.

“I tried to do everything I could. When he came back from his second tour in Iraq he wasn’t the same. He couldn’t talk about what he’d seen or what he’d done. I knew he was hurting so bad. I came home one day and I saw him doing coke on the bathroom sink, and he swore to me he would stop and get help if I didn’t tell anyone. He said he just needed something to help him forget. I kept my promise. I didn’t tell anyone. Not my brothers, not my parents. I drove him to NA meetings, I tried to find him rehabs but he wouldn’t fucking stop. I just wanted him to stop. I just wanted my brother back. I finally had to say something, I had to tell my family because I couldn’t do it anymore. He found out and we got into such a big fight, we yelled and screamed at each other and I told him I hated him. I told him I hated him for what he’d done. I hated him because he wasn’t the brother I had before. I hated him because he wouldn’t stop. And that was the last thing I ever said to him. His friends found him in his apartment the next morning. He overdosed. He was just gone. It was like he just disappeared. I can’t have you disappear, Javi. I can’t. Please. I can’t.”

Javi sat there silently as you sobbed in his arms. There were no words he could think of that could help. Nothing that he could say or do that could even attempt to patch the gushing wound that you had just ripped open for him. You had left yourself out in the open, bleeding and exposed as he sat there, helpless. He wished he could do something, anything, to take away just an ounce of the hurt and the pain you felt. But for now, all he could do was hold you, let you cry. Be there for you as you let the tears of pain and grief and hurt release from your body. The next words that came out of his mouth weren’t the words he should have said, but the only ones his brain could muster. “Baby… Why didn’t… Why didn’t you tell me?”

You looked up at him, your eyes begging for forgiveness through their red and swollen tears. “I couldn’t, Javi, how could I? It’s your job. You’ve spent your whole life fighting to stop what happened to my brother. And now he’s gone. There’s nothing that you could have done. There’s nothing anyone like you could have done. It’s the fucking truth and it sucks. How am I supposed to let you live with that? I can’t be the one to add anymore to what you’ve been through. It’s my fault. It’s my fault that he’s gone. I tried so hard. I tried so hard, Javi. I’m so sorry, Javi, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me.”

He could practically feel his heart break in two seeing you hurt so badly. It broke him to see you blame yourself, to think you tried to hide this part of your life away to keep him safe. He hugged you so tightly, like he was trying to free you from the pain you had carried, make you feel safe and loved and to know that he meant it. He grabbed your face, using his thumb to wipe your tears, praying that you believed what he had to say. “It wasn’t your fault. Baby, please, it wasn’t. You did everything you could. I could never be mad at you. I’m so sorry, Osita. I love you. I love you so much. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fucking quit before they make me go back. I’m not leaving you.”

“You promise?”

“Of course I do. I promise.”

You let him hold you for just a few moments longer, saying nothing as you sat in the silence of his promise. You knew he meant it. You had never trusted someone like you had trusted him. In his words, in his eyes, in the way he held you like nothing else in the world mattered except for you. You knew Javier Peña meant every last word. You knew he’d keep his promise.

You sat up a little taller, wiping your face with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself, terrified to see the snotty, wet mess you’d become. “I don’t um… I don’t really wanna go back to the party, if that’s okay.” You spoke, words embarrassed and shaky as you stared sheepishly at the ground. Javi shook his head, only laughing to himself out of pure shock.

“Osita, you were thinking about trying to go back there? Baby, I’m taking you home. Whatever you need, I’m yours.” His words made you shed a few more tears, this time a small smile spreading across your face as he helped you up off the ground, pulling you in for a long, tight hug, resting his nose among the soft waves of your hair.

“Javi?” You whispered against the warmth of his chest.

“Yes, Osita?”

“Can we get ice cream on the way home?”

“Of course, Hermosa. Of course we can get ice cream. I’ll drive you all the way back to Chicago for ice cream, if that’s what you need.” You let out a soft giggle as you hugged him just a little tighter before pulling away to look up at him.

“Texas ice cream will do just fine.”

“I’m gonna go grab our stuff and then we can head out okay? Are you gonna be okay waiting by the truck?”

“I’ll be okay. Thanks, Jav.” He gave you a quick kiss on the head before running back to the house, returning quickly with your bags as he unlocked the door and helped you up into his truck. You sat in silence on the drive to Eva’s, one of your favorite ice cream places Javi had taken you to, ever since he had made good on his claim that they did, in fact, have the best cookies and cream ice cream you’d ever have. After ordering for the both of you, Javi brought your ice creams over to your favorite spot, a little park bench that sat in front of the small creek that ran behind the building.

“Cookies and cream for you.” He said, handing you over your ice cream. “Chocolate and sprinkles for me.” He finished, sitting down next to you on the bench as you laughed to yourself. “If you’re gonna say something, just say it, Osita.” He smirked, knowing exactly what was on your mind.

“I can’t believe that you try to deny that you have the biggest sweet tooth out of anyone I’ve ever met. Sprinkles?” You looked over at his cone, snickering at the little rainbow flecks covering the ice cream.

“Whatever.” He smiled, taking a big lick out of his cone as he put his arm on the back of the bench, draping it over your shoulder. He paused as he looked over at you, just staring at your ice cream, lost in your own thoughts. “Hey.” He whispered gently, causing you to shift your gaze up at him. “I know it hurts. It never stops hurting, even when people tell you it should. We don’t have to talk about it anymore right now, but if you ever want to, I’m here okay?” You nodded, wiping away the tears welling behind your eyes.

“Okay.” You sat there for another moment after finally taking a lick of your cookies and cream, watching the sun glisten along the babble of the creek ahead of you. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Javi ran his thumb back and forth against your arm, drawing circles on your soft skin.

“Anything. Literally anything.” You shook your head, trying to force yourself to let out a small huff of laughter.

Javi grinned, taking another lick of his ice cream before he spoke. “I’m glad you made good on your drunk sing-along promise today. You’re right, it’s even worse than normal.” You let out a genuine laugh, nudging him as you finally let a smile creep across your face.

“I tried to warn you. I blame those Jell-O shots.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes at Javi.

“It was cute. Almost as good as your bathroom pep talk.” He chuckled as you looked at him in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, taking another lick around the base of the cone to keep it from dripping.

“Do you really not remember? I took you in to use the bathroom and you were talking to yourself in the mirror when you were washing your hands?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t- OH. OH NO. I’m so sorry, I was really drunk. You were not supposed to hear that. How did you hear that?!” You could feel how hot your face was as your cheeks turned bright red, burying your head in the free hand you weren’t using to hold your ice cream.

“You were practically yelling to yourself in the bathroom, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, biting down on his lip. “Do you remember what you said?”

“Of course I remember, why do you think I’m so embarrassed?” You replied, scrunching your face, looking down at the ground.

“Why are you so embarrassed, Osita?” You looked up at him, surprised by how genuine he was, his voice soft and sweet, a smile peeking out of the corner of his lips.

“Because… Because I shouldn’t have just, like, said that out loud. I don’t… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you heard me say things that I want and you don’t. It was stupid, I’m sorry.” You looked back down at the ground, wishing you could repeatedly kick your past drunken self for letting Javi hear your rambles.

“It’s not stupid. I want those things, too. God, I want those things, too.”

You raised your head back up as Javi rubbed his hand along your back, making heat creep through your face, blushing, as you felt a smile stretch from one side of your face to another. You ran your tongue along the top of your teeth as you took a deep breath in, exhaling and leaning your head against Javi’s shoulder.

“You promise?” Your voice was low and quiet, almost soft enough to have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been listening. Soft enough to have gone unanswered if what he had said wasn’t really true.

“I promise.”

You sat there quietly, the promise of his words dancing in the air between you. There were few people in this world that you trusted. It hadn’t taken long for Javier Peña to come into your life and become the one person in this world you now trusted the most. He had made you a promise- and you knew damn well that he’d keep it.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413

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vigilskeep · 5 months

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can you talk about misinterpretations of wynne and zevran's dynamic??? i'm chewing on your analysis

i think it’s a very basic case of people simply taking what is said at face value, in a way that comes up a lot with your classic zevran misinterpretations and uhhh oversimplifications. zevran and wynne’s banters are full of his classic exaggerated flirtations. all of their banters hinge on this joke and they’re very funny. but i’m always mildly stunned when i see people taking that as... zevran actually literally just being horny AGSHSKKSKS

i don’t think people give zevran enough credit for how clever he is at dancing around the other companions. nobody ever really gets one up on him. i can think of one specific instance in banter where i do think something gets under his skin, which i think oghren of all people manages essentially by accident the one time he’s actually not really trying

anyway: wynne opens their first banter with “you must know that murder is wrong, i assume.” it’s very wynne; she makes a judgement and announces it as fact. zevran is slightly stunned by this and also how funny it is: “i’m sorry... are you speaking to me?” with this incredible disbelieving pause because, like, he’s the party assassin. but he’s also playing for time quickly on how to react to this out of nowhere. wynne then explains the simple narrative she’s constructed that joining the party is due to a crisis of conscience on zevran’s part about being an assassin. and zevran immediately jumps into exaggerated agreement, and once he gets a better idea, the first of his flirtations with her, until she gives up in exasperation. it’s an evasion tactic zevran is very, very good at and has been doing to you, the player, since his first appearance on screen. he wants to play on the characters he performs when they’re useful shields, whether it’s the victim or the flirt or what have you. but also always with that ironic air that he’s clearly doing a bit; there’s the charm of letting you in on a private joke, but also he needs everything to be a faintly ridiculous game to him, so he doesn’t have to be affected

zevran keeps this joke up for the full extent of his banters with wynne through the whole game, because he finds it wildly entertaining, of course, and because he has no interest in ever inviting the conversation she wants. he so badly doesn’t want to deal with her asking this that he decides to run this bit into the GROUND, and starts doing it pre-emptively to ward her off even after she stops trying to instigate the conversation. bc wynne may be a good way off the mark, and, ironically for someone wanting zevran to take this seriously, not able to imagine that his life and feelings may be more complex than assumed (absolutely classic spirit behaviour once again), but she is needling at his reasons for leaving the crows, which is the last thing wants to be honest with anyone about

making the assumption that zevran is flirting with wynne out of genuine interest is, to me, the same mistake as thinking zevran when you first meet the warden is flirting out of genuine interest. this is how he knows to stay alive. if he let his guard down, he’d be dead; if he wasn’t charming, he’d be dead; and if he ever stopped to dwell instead of being the “eternal optimist”, always instinctually grasping at one more chance to live another day, he’d be very, very dead. he’s not going to casually discuss vulnerabilities for someone else’s peace of mind and he definitely doesn’t have the kind of insecurity to need to explain himself to people who don’t know him or what they’re talking about. so, rogue evasion abilities activate! it’s time for him to dodge! which is what he spends the entire series of banters doing. but also he’s just still finding it funny throughout. she just gives him so much ammunition. it’s like taking candy from a baby. zevran loves an old and terrible joke repeated for several months solid, they age like wine to him

i also think wynne’s comments are a light jab at how zevran does get read by players. he’s not ashamed of being an assassin. there’s this great line in one of his dialogues with the warden that asks why he shouldn’t continue to do what he’s good at when so few have come by his skills “honestly”, as he believes he has. there’s a tendency to characterise him and characters like him as, ah, the guilt-ridden victim in need of a pure-hearted saviour to show him the light, etc etc, but that’s never been who he is. there’s no ending where he suddenly quits being an assassin lmao

#zevran arainai #wynne #hope this makes sense aha i just remembered i got this ask and had to scribble smth before i forget again #wynnes banters are so elite ive said this before but everyone else gets levelled up a notch with her #anyway its just the usual point about zevran: sex is the distraction. the character who is about sex is literally alistair

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nicksnosering · 4 months

Text

I Hate Myself For Loving You

~Toxic Chris Sturniolo One Shot~

TW: toxic! chris, marijuana, no aftercare, chris is a dick

This is my first story I've ever posted on tumblr, so pls be nice!

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me: hey, you coming over tonight?

read at 9:06pm

It’s been 4 hours since I sent that text, and almost 2 since it was marked as ‘read’. I bit my lip, sighing as the internal debate on whether I should double text or not was practically eating me alive. Grabbing my phone that I’d been trying too hard to ignore off of my nightstand, I swiped it open and decided fuck it.

me: christopher. stop ignoring me.

The response came through almost immediately.

DO NOT ANSWER: why?

I rolled my eyes, pushing aside my pride as I sent my next message.

me: just come over.

DO NOT ANSWER: i’m busy.

me: doing what, fucking ur other bitches?

DO NOT ANSWER: yeppppp

me: ok 👌🏼

I groan out of frustration, throwing my phone back onto my nightstand. God, he’s infuriating. We’ve been fucking for close to five months now, and every time it seemed like there was any sort of breakthrough, like maybe he actually liked me or cared about me, we went right back to where we started. I press play on the remote, but my mind is spinning far too fast for me to actually focus on the TV.

I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. If he’s going to treat me like an option instead of a priority, he can go fuck himself. I grab my phone off of my nightstand again, hovering over his name before shaking my head and pressing ‘Block Contact’. Just like that, five months down the drain.

I ignore the aching feeling in my chest, like I’m about to be ripped open from the inside, snuggling further in my sheets and letting the warmth envelop me before slowly drifting off to sleep.

The peacefulness of being unconscious didn’t last long.

I woke to the sound of my front door being pounded on so hard, the hinges sounded like they were about to fly off. I turn and check the time on my phone blearily, the screen reading 2:13am. I pull the covers off and pad over to the door, rubbing my eye as I unlock it. The door immediately opens, and I look up to find Chris staring at me, eyes slightly red and hair messy. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are narrowed, briefly looking me up and down before brushing past me and walking straight into my living room.

“Get out, Chris,” I say tiredly, vaguely gesturing toward the open door I’m still holding.

“Nah, I’m good,” he responds, falling back onto my couch and kicking his feet up, resting them on the coffee table. His hands go into his hoodie pocket, and I watch as he pulls out a preroll and a lighter.

“I’m serious. Get the fuck out,” I say, slightly more aggressively, ignoring the way my heart squeezes in my chest. I watch as he flicks the lighter and the end of the preroll turns a bright red. He takes a hit, inhaling deeply and looking back up at me.

“So am I,” he breathes out. “You’re not going to block me and expect me not to fucking show up expecting an explanation.”

I shut the door and sit down next to him on the couch, turning to him. His hand immediately goes to wrap around my waist, and I hate myself for the way I want to curl into it. Even with me being as mad as I am, he still looks insanely hot, his sleepy eyes tracing over my figure in my pajamas. He knows I love when he wears that stupid fucking black hoodie.

I push his hand off of me, scooting a little further away and wrapping my arms around myself.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?” I ask.

He smirks, throwing an arm around the back of the couch before shrugging. “You love it.”

“No, I fucking don’t,” I growl, watching as he takes another hit. “And open a window or something, Jesus.” He knows how much I hate it when he smokes in my apartment. The smell lingers for a few days and all it does is remind me of him, of how much I can’t stand myself when he leaves after letting him in, again and again.

He leans forward, placing his hand on my thigh and rubbing it softly before blowing the smoke directly in my face. I stare at him, unimpressed, and he chuckles. “Come on, ma. Don’t be upset. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Do you really expect me to forgive you for being an asshole just because you’re here now? At 2 in the fucking morning?” I glare at him. Goosebumps emerge on my thigh as his fingers continue to rub small circles into it, and I shiver.

His lips curl upwards as he takes another hit. “Your body sure seems to,” he says cockily, putting out the preroll and wrapping his arms around my waist. My body does betray me this time, and I lean into him as his fingers trace my hipbone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight,” he whispers lowly.

“Yeah, I’m sure I was the first thing on your mind when you were balls deep in another girl,” I huff.

He laughs. “Okay, she was first. But you were second.” His hand comes up to my jaw, cupping it softly and forcing me to look at him. “Stop acting like you hate me. We both know how this night is going to end,” he says, leaning in and capturing my lips with his own.

I whine as I try to pull back, but his hand on my jaw stays firm, holding my mouth against his. His other hand slowly slides up my thigh until he finds the waistband of my thong, and his finger hooks underneath before letting it go, resulting in it slapping harshly against my hip. I yelp and pull back, and he chuckles as his fingers rub the red mark softly.

“God, you know how hard it gets me when your cheeks are all flushed like that,” he mumbles, dipping his head down and beginning to suck on the skin directly above my collar bone. I let a small moan slip, and grit my teeth at how little willpower I have when it comes to this man.

“Chris, stop,” I whisper, but it sounds too breathy for my own liking. He pulls off of my neck, admiring the mark his teeth made briefly, before looking back into my eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, grabbing my hips to pull me onto his waist. My thighs rest on either side of his and he grinds up into me, his hard erection rubbing against me through my paper-thin pajama shorts. I groan, letting my head fall onto his shoulder, and his fingers dig in, grinding me against him roughly. A small whimper leaves my mouth, slicing through the silence in the room. I wince, stilling my hips, trying to regain the last semblance of composure I have.

My heart squeezes in my chest as I look down at him beneath me, my brain flooding with every toxic memory of us together. The time he kicked me out of his car, leaving me stranded on the side of the road after an intense screaming match. The time he called me a fucking bitch in front of his friends, laughing in my face. The time he swore he didn’t go and fuck that girl I hated in my biology class, promising he wouldn’t do that to me.

That one hurt the most, considering I had to find out from my own sister 2 grades below me.

But with the bad came the good, such as the mind-blowing orgasms and the way his mouth fit against mine and the way his fingers fit into me just right, crooking and teasing and pumping exactly the way he knew I liked. Like he knew my body better than I did.

With my jaw set, I place my hands on his chest, steam practically blowing from my nostrils. I hated myself for this, and he knew that, and I knew he knew that. Any attempts I have at stopping this now are futile. My body needs him.

“Fuck you,” I breathe heavily, rolling my hips against his. My mouth trails to his jaw, his neck, down his chest, and a low moan escapes him as his fingers find their way to the waistband of my shorts, slipping down the front and past my thong to gently rub at my entrance, before plunging two fingers deep inside without any warning. My hips jolt forward, meeting his fingers where they connect to his hand before he starts curling them inward, and… my last shred of self control has completely dissipated.

I feel his chest rumble with laughter as a few small moans leave my lips. “If you insist,” he whispers, thumb finding my clit and giving it a few lazy circles. My head falls forward onto his chest and I can’t stop myself from biting into his shoulder to quiet my moans.

His other hand tangles its way into my hair, yanking my head back and forcing our gazes to lock.

“You can cum if you want to, but you know I’m getting inside that cunt one way or another.” His thumb speeds up across my clit and I can feel my body shaking, getting close to plummeting over the edge.

My eyes flutter shut, and I’m quickly rewarded with another sharp tug on my scalp. “Look at me,” he commands. And when my eyes meet his, I feel the waves washing over me, convulsing as he speeds up his fingers, mercilessly working me through my orgasm.

I slump forward into his chest, and he pulls his fingers out quickly, leaving me empty in more ways than one. He wraps his arms around my waist and stands up, carrying me to my bedroom and tossing me onto the bed carelessly.

He pulls his hoodie over his head, tossing it into the corner of my room, and strides back over to the edge of the bed. His stature towers over me, and my mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts, not a single one of them protesting this any longer.

I’ve accepted what this is.

More than that, I’ve given up.

I’m irrevocably in love with him, regardless of his feelings toward me, and I can’t bring myself to care about the hurt it’ll bring. The hurt it has brought. All I can think about in this moment is getting him inside of me, and I try to disregard the niggling feelings in the back of my mind about how I’ll feel after.

There is no after. There’s only now.

My hand shakes slightly with anticipation as I reach up, tugging at his belt buckle and popping it open. I slide his pants and boxers down in one motion, and my legs spread on their own accord as he leans over me, lining himself up.

“I love you.”

It’s nothing I haven’t said before, but each time I do, I hope for a different outcome. Something other than the eye roll he always gives me, huffing and silencing me with a palm over my lips. Each time, I hope the sting is lessened, that he cracks and shows me the soft side of him I know has to be in there.

And if that’s the definition of insanity, then I should’ve been locked up months ago.

He scoffs, pushing inside of me to the hilt in one quick thrust. “I know,” he responds, hand coming up to wrap around my throat and prevent any further confessions from coming out.

My moans are unstoppable as he pounds into me with brutal thrust after thrust, only caring about working towards his own orgasm. I thrust back against him, rolling my hips to meet his each time he’s fully inside, thinking that maybe… maybe if I’m good, maybe if I’m better than that other bitch he fucked tonight, he won’t run off like he always does.

Maybe he’ll want a round two. Maybe he’ll stick around for another joint. Maybe he’ll cuddle me after.

Maybe he’ll stay.

I push the thoughts aside, trying instead to focus on the intense amount of pleasure coursing through my veins and lighting up every nerve ending in my body.

His chain rocks back and forth, slapping his chest in time with his thrusts, and I watch as his tongue darts out to lick away a stray bead of sweat trailing down his face.

His grunts are filling the room, mixing with my own to create a beautiful melody I want to record and play on a loop forever. His curls are falling in his eyes and his stomach tenses with each snap forward of his hips, and he consumes all of my senses as my body shakes and writhes beneath him, pleading for him to slow down and begging for more in the same breath.

I whine when he pulls out to just the tip, and his eyes stay glued to mine as he slams back in, causing me to let out a loud gasp. A smirk settles on his lips as he repeats his actions, and I feel my body coming completely undone, succumbing wholly to him.

“Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” he muses, panting heavily. He releases his hold on my throat, gripping the back of my calf instead and wrapping it around his waist, moaning at the pleasure the new angle brings. “So needy and wet every time. Like you were made for me.”

And I was. There is no one else.

It’s just him.

I can feel his thrusts getting sloppier, and I watch his eyelids droop as he continues his conquest over me, every muscle tensing before I feel his release inside of me, hot and heavy, marking me as his. Claiming me.

He groans loudly as he works his way through it, not sparing a single drop. I wrap my other leg around him and pull him as close as I can, not wanting to to let him go and be forced to accept it’s over.

When he’s finished, he drops down onto me for a moment, and I take my opportunity to brush my fingers through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. We lay like that for a while, but it’s far too short for my liking when he peels himself away and stands up.

My eyes follow as he goes over to where he threw his hoodie, pulling it back over his head before grabbing his boxers and doing the same.

All I can do is watch helplessly, begging with my eyes for him to stay. To get back into bed and hold me, kiss my shoulder and whisper that it’s always been me too.

He chuckles as he buckles his belt, situating it on his hips before looking back at me. “That was probably one of our best ones yet.”

“Yeah,” I respond emptily. I sit up and wrap the blanket around myself, feeling far too exposed now, both physically and emotionally.

“Alright, ma. See you later,” he says, messing with his hair absentmindedly before deciding its okay, and I watch as he grips the handle of my bedroom door, swinging it open.

“Chris?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“Stay.”

He looks taken aback for a moment, but regains his composure quickly as he chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I’m good.”

And with that, he’s gone, and I feel my heart shatter a little bit more as I’m left alone, sticky and sweaty and naked, with nothing but the smell of weed lingering in my apartment to keep me company.

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PT 2

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #toxic chris #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturn #matthew sturnio

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