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#but WHO does she get into a bar fight with???
slayfics · 20 hours
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heyyy i love you’re writing!! i’ve been listening to so much nessa barrett lately and her one song “lie” made me really want to read like a bakugou x reader story line of the song i feel like you’re writing would work well with it 🥹🥹
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You see Katsuki on tv. Warnings: angst 600 words
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You watched as bubbles crackled in your now almost empty drink, the ice collapsing into itself. Lime soaked and slowly disintegrated in the liquid.
"Another one sweetheart?" The bartender asks, bringing you out of your daydream.
You nod with a faint smile, it's the biggest smile you can gather up. The bartender gets working on your drink, feeling obligated to make small talk he looks up at you again, "You here alone?" he asks, pouring a shot into a new glass.
It's a simple question. It shouldn't send you spiraling, but it does.
"Yeah," you reply shortly.
He tops the drink off with soda water and lime and slides it over to your side of the bar, "Well I'm sure that's by choice," he says giving you a courteous wink and nod.
You can't help but scoff. Of course, it's not by choice. There is someone you want to be here with.
Then as if your thoughts willed it so, breaking news broadcasts on the screen interrupting the mundane sitcom. "Pro hero Dynamite at work to subdue a villain," the live feed reads.
You can't stop the way your pupils dilate, and your fingers tighten around your glass.
The helicopter filming the scene struggles to keep up with his movements, but there he is exploding through the city effortlessly giving the villain the fight of their life.
Cops attempt to keep pedestrians at bay, but the crowd is excited to see Dynamite working in action. The group of onlookers only grows as more pull out their phones to record.
He's so famous now.
It happened overnight.
One moment it was just you and Katsuki, and now, he's a pro hero known all over.
He's not Katsuki or Kacchan anymore, he's Dynamite, and everywhere you turned people wanted to take him away from you.
And it worked?
You hadn't heard from Katsuki in over a month. Texts left on read, memes left without even an emoji.
He's busy, you told yourself. Being a pro hero was taking a lot out of him. You couldn't expect much, you had to be supportive. Yet, you couldn't shake the lingering thoughts that grew as more time passed with dead air between you two.
Had he met someone else?
Bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip, you realized your hands had begun to shake.
As famous as he was now, he had come across many new faces. Fancy galas and expensive dinner parties. Who were you to complete anymore? A small-town friend left long in the shadowed past of his new bright and shiny life.
No. Surely, he respects you enough to have let you know, right?
He's just busy.
Katsuki lets out an explosion bringing the villain down. The scene erupts into cheers. You watch eyes glued to the screen; Katsuki shoves his mask up to his forehead wiping the sweat off his face. Reporters rush to try and get lucky enough to speak to him.
Then it happens.
The universe-altering moment.
It happens fast but you see it in slow motion, every second more painful than the next.
The epitome of a beautiful woman breaks through the crowd, to run and wrap her arms around his neck. Pushing up to her tip toes to press a passionate kiss to his cheek, and he doesn't pull away. He smiles.
A guttural scream that you don't recognize as your own escapes you. Glass flies out of your hand shattering the bar TV.
Whoever she is please, let it be a lie.
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Oh man- this song did a number on me. It’s so painfully beautiful. I hope this fic was somewhat what you had in mind. It’s what came out when I sat down to type so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for this request, I missed writing some angst.
sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @renwei @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams
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toniiswrld · 1 day
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mx ☆ p.wb - 02
wonbin x fem reader
you bump into a hot guy at a band concert, but what happens when you realize the hot guy is a member of the band?
🎸 cw. foul language
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“dude where the fuck have you been? we go on in 15” shotaros already yelling before wonbin can fully walk into the room.
“probably lurking through the crowd again to find his next hookup,” seunghan chimes into the conversation, earning laughs in agreement from sohee and anton.
“ill have you all know i was going to get a drink at the bar, i’m not the slut you guys want me to be so bad” wonbin crosses his arms over his chest, trying (but failing) to beat the slut allegations.
“sure you aren’t wonbin,” eunseok rolls his eyes at the boy, knowing well enough what wonbins true intentions are whenever he’s just ‘going to the bar’
“oh don’t act like you’re better than me, eunseok. didn’t you have some girl over last night?” he scoffs, the attitude he tried so hard to hold back slipping.
“okay first of all, she’s not just ‘some girl’, we’ve been dating for a month now. a concept you wouldn’t be able to understand” oohs can be heard across the room, the rest of the boys suddenly invested in eunseok and wonbins little argument.
“okay mr loverboy, not my fault i don’t wanna be tired down at 22”
“you’re going to let the right girl slip through your fingers if you keep fucking around, wonbin” eunseok doesn’t want to fight, but he is getting tired of his friends bullshit. the amount of girls he’s taken home within the last year was insane, he’s seen some really nice girls lose themselves in wonbin, changing their whole personalities for him, all for him to push them to the side for someone else. wonbin would one day realize his actions have consequences and he’s stopping himself from experiencing romance.
“you guys can argue later, we go on in 5” shotaro sighs as he gathers himself and the rest of the boys to get ready to get on stage. everyone does a quick touchup on their outfits and hair, wonbin keeping his arms crossed up until they get on stage.
eunseok doesn’t know anything, wonbin grumbles to himself as he picks up his bass, squinting as the stage lights turn on and he shakes his thoughts once he hears the uproar from the crowd.
he couldn’t worry about romance when the feeling he got from being on stage was something nothing could ever compare to. he didn’t want to be tied down when he had a crowd to please, and he has endless girls falling at his feet, so why would he stop that to be with just one person?
throughout the show, his mind kept going to the girl he bumped into at the bar. she was so beautiful, her skin glowed in the dim venue lighting and she had this vibe to her that was almost intimidating, but he didn’t want her to walk away. it was alluring, the way you didn’t throw yourself at him like everyone else who likes him, because they knew him already, they know he’s famous. what if once you figured out that he’s part of the band and you lose interest?
he tries to look for you in the crowd, he spots you for a brief moment but your eyes are focused on someone else, and when his eyes travel across the crowd he isn’t able to find you again.
he wishes he had gotten your name, only knowing you by princess, the name he had given you. so all he could do now was hope you would come to more shows, and hope that he would be able to get you alone.
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m.list | previous | next
a/n: short little chapter from wonbins pov… actual juicy stuff coming in the next chapter i promise 🫣
taglist: @starwonb1n @drinktaro @kyusqult @murariki @helovalley @miyawakiblossoms @nishimuraii @snoopyana @blooqz @bunni @b-riize @daegale @sunwoosberrie @rosesfortaro
reply to the masterlist or send in an ask to be added to the taglist !
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arolesbianism · 4 months
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Thinking abt my dst swap au again it's so messed up that I can't just talk about hypothetical character kits 24/7 and actually have to make a plot that some characters are more or less relevant in because all I wanna do is talk about Wilba and Wortox kits cause they're silly goofy goobers
#rat rambles#starve posting#they are swapped with eachother btw#wilba's kit is much Much more krampus themed than wortox (which is a low bar since he had no krampus stuff but still dhdndgd)#basically her whole kit is built around her being klaus's daughter#she is completely immune to the negative effects of a hight naughty meter and gets a free present each winter as her passives#and she has her own crafting station which is her lil tinkerers table where she can craft some festive themed items and deer stuff#she can have up to two gem infused deer followers at a time and other deer dont run from her#I do think itd be kind of fun to give her an enraged form too to mirror her werepig form in canon but idk it might be a bit much#also when she does fight klaus the amount of krampus summoned mid fight increases based on her highest amount of naughty points that year#the main reason this matters is that due to her being spoiled by her dad she cant rly do krampus farming by herself#but this is somewhat balanced by the fact that once she gets one she can tinker with it at her crafting station and unlock a recipe#so this both acts as her dad punishing her for fighting him and as a way to make it a smidge easier to get that initial krampus sack#as for wortox hes kind of two characters built into one#but both are simpler since hes now a og ds dlc character (although tbf current in game wortox is even simpler but thats due to change)#theres normal piggy wortox who has fun criminal gimics and during the aporkalypse he gets sorta possesed ~oooo~#outside of the aporkalypse hes attacked on sight by guards but passively has the theiving hat effect and it can further stack with the hat#he also can craft a lock picker to break into shops at night and a thieves sack which is like a krampus sack but held in the hand slot#he also wont be stolen from by other theives and can in fact trade with them for thieves stash maps#during the aporkalypse most enemies will become passive towards him and if he kills the he becomes the total ruller of all pigs#he can extort shops for whatever resources he wants and can kill or steal from whoever#but he has a pretty constant heavy negative sanity drain and lower max stats in general#also the chaos herald is still a potential issue although it wont immediately agro onto wortox#oh but if the aporkalyse is ended then his kingly status is revoked as the being that is seen as the ruler is no longer possesing wortox#I just thought that it was odd that no one in the hamlet dlc was given any aporkalypse related gimmics considering its so easy to ignore#I think itd be fun to have a character that incentivices engaging with it more even if its a risk to do so
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riality-check · 8 months
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Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.
But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.
Steve very much did not need to know that.
With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.
He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.
Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.
So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.
“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.
“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.
The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.
A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.
And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.
“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”
“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”
“We already have the axe!”
“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”
“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”
Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.
“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”
“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.
“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”
“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”
“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.
“You gotta give him context.”
“No, I don’t, Jeff.”
The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.
“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.
“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”
“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”
Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”
Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.
Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"
"Anna," she says.
"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"
"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."
"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.
Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."
"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."
Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.
"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.
Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”
“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.
Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.
It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.
It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.
Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-
Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.
Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.
He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"
She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.
Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"
"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.
"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.
"Like dancing?"
"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."
"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"
Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.
"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."
"Sorry," Eddie whispers.
"Don't be."
Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."
"Anna," Steve cautions.
"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.
Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"
"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.
Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.
By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.
Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.
When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.
"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"
"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but you-"
"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.
"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.
Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.
Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.
"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."
"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"
"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"
Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."
The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.
Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.
Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.
He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.
He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.
Whatever that means.
Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.
He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.
It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.
It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.
Shit.
(Part 2 is alive!!)
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charliemwrites · 3 months
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A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:
(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)
The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.
Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.
Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.
Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)
And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.
Which is about the time the real issue starts.
The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”
And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.
It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.
Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.
The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.
As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.
“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”
“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”
“This is between us men.”
You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.
You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.
When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.
“Would you like a go, luv?”
You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”
“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.
So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…
“Well would you look at that,” he muses.
You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.
“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”
So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.
“Serves you right,” you tease.
By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”
Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.
“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”
“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.
You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”
“Count on it.”
You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.
He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…
Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.
The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”
They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.
“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.
Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.
But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.
Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.
But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.
Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!
They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.
Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.
All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.
He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.
When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.
And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.
And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.
“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.
“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.
But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.
Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.
When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.
With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.
And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.
They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)
They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)
And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.
Then there’s the base.
They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.
Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.
Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.
You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.
When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.
But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.
At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.
You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.
A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.
You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.
Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.
You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.
Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.
You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.
“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.
“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.
“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”
You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”
Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.
“What now?” you ask quietly.
“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”
“Oh…
“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”
3K notes · View notes
animeshotsh · 3 months
Text
Chains | Husk x SisOverlord!Reader / Yandere!Alastor x Reader |
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Summary: Its been years since you saw your brother...
Warnings: Alastor its a warning himself | Yandere!Alastor | Overlord!Reader | Canon Violence | Grammar Mistakes |
No one expected the doors of the Hotel to burst Open that afternoon. Vaggie was the first to react, being ready to fight whever decided to attack that day (it was becoming something normal).
Charlie on her part was jumping towards the stranger, ready to shake hands and introduce herself.
"Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, im Charlie, whats your na-" Before Charlie could finish two voices sounded in the back.
"(Y/N)?"
"(Y/N) MY DEAR!!"
Husk and Alastor voices echoed in the looby, the only response their got were a set of flashing sharp poker cards being directed at the radio Demon and Husk.
"ITS HAS BEEN 12 YEARS AND THATS ALL YOU GONNA SAY?" You screamed at both men.
Husk looked away, shame over his cat face. Long time ago you two used to rule. The brother and sister duo, the ones who could destroy everyone. That was till Husk destroyed himself, giving his soul to the radio Demon. Leaving you behind.
Alastor was amused by your anger. He knew you hated him, he was the one who took your brothers soul after all. And he never felt remorse because of it, he was almost happy he did it. It was the only way he got to see you, ever if you only showed him hate.
He would take whatever from you.
"Wait...are you Husk's gilfriend?" Charlie still not catching up asked, getting the most bizarre look from you.
"Hell no, im his sister" You responded making the princess blush and apologie too much. "Its fine, I know he does not talk a lot about me"
Charlie could hear the sadness in your voice. She took a moment to see you, and now she saw how similar Husk and you were. Cat face a pair of wings, the colors were different and so were your eyes, but there was something that just connected you two.
"This is (Y/N), The Casino Demon, you bet against her and you lose your Soul" Alastor explained appearing besides you. "She and Husk used to rule together"
"Yeah, well thats in the past now" You responded to Alastor both of you killing each other with your eyes.
The tension was broken by Husk, "why are you here?"
"Im here because you are here and because I want to redeem myself" You responded with your head high, not looking at the obvious smirk from Alastor or the questioning look from Husk.
Charlie quickly took your hand, guiding you towards a desk to check you in, she ramble about the hotel, the guests and things they did in here.
You kind of feel bad for her, you could see her passion but the only reason you were in here was because of Husk. Ever since Alastor took his soul it ended being a game of finding him. Alastor would make Husk's soul appear and since you two were connected as brother and sister you would fly there only to find him gone and a smirking Radio Demon.
But this time, his soul had been in one place for a long time. So you decided to use this chance to be by your brothers side.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
Later that same night you went to the bar, Husk tried to ignore you, cleaning glasses but ended facing you. No one dared to speak first, silent tears fell from your eyes, slowly your hands reached his, his fluffy hair welcoming you.
"I have missed you so much" You said smiling at him. Husk felt his heart break, he knew how Alastor played with you using him. He had tried many times to make you hate him, but you never did. You also never fought Alastor knowing he would use Husk to get you.
"Lets have a drink for the old days"
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
After many drinks you went back to your room. So many years apart...Husk and you had so much to catch on.
"You know you cant have him back"
The radio Demon appear behind you, you ignored him not wanting to fall for his games.
"Not without a deal at least"
"And what would that deal be?" You asked not looking back at the Demon.
In a flash he got closer to you, not touching you but you could feel his breath down your neck.
"Your soul for his, be mine for the eternity and free him" Hell, you could feel the psycho smile and listen the radio laughts.
"Goodnight Alastor"
You left him alone outside your room. Alastor smiled to himself, hands behind his back he started to walk to his own room.
"Just a bit more" he whispered his body turning to his full Demon form.
"Just a bit more to be mine"
1K notes · View notes
seeingivy · 4 months
Text
pretty girl
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.
**part of my best friends (older brother) fic
--
when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home. 
and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow. 
it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for. 
sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji. 
“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face. 
right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet. 
“move over.” he responds, irritated. 
the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.
yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away. 
“‘gumi, cm’here.” 
“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air. 
he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again. 
“look yuuji. it’s us.” 
“where?” 
“the two stars next to each other.” 
sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag. 
it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information. 
“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be. 
sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find. 
he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it. 
he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last. 
“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?” 
he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile. 
“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.” 
“i’m not leaving.” 
maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again. 
that makes two of them. 
when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them. 
“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks. 
she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible. 
“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs. 
“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans. 
well, she’s certainly not ugly. 
“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option. 
sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you. 
sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears. 
it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned. 
which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag. 
but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned. 
you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face. 
“sukuna, you-you’re here.” 
sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you. 
“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you. 
you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.
“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile. 
the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.
sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers. 
“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour. 
“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.
you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine. 
“do i even want to ask?” he sneers. 
“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond. 
sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.
sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention. 
“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face. 
sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it. 
--
sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out. 
megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake. 
“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs. 
“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next. 
when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start. 
“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-” 
“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.” 
it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks. 
“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks. 
“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.” 
“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?” 
“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?” 
“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him. 
he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki. 
when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision. 
he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom. 
“can i use the bathroom?” you ask. 
“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice. 
“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door. 
albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough. 
that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day. 
he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason. 
“what the hell is your problem?” he asks. 
“huh?” 
“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.” 
you sniffle. 
“do you really want to know?” you whisper. 
“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.” 
you sigh. 
“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” 
sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues. 
“in english this time?” he asks. 
“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state. 
“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks. 
you sigh. 
“maybe.” you murmur. 
sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile. 
“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur. 
“for what?” 
he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him. 
“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.” 
sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips. 
there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek. 
“did you need something?” you ask. 
“sleep in my bed.” 
“huh?” 
“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters. 
the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top. 
thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD 
it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect. 
that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you. 
--
the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.
you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you. 
“where’s yuuji?” you ask.
“still at megumi’s.” 
sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks. 
sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.
“what’s this?” 
“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.” 
“who did you go with?” sukuna asks. 
“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state. 
“so you ordered it yourself?” 
“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum. 
“always the bows huh?” 
sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush. 
he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade. 
but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask. 
“you left it at my house.” he states. 
“so…so you put it on your keys?” 
“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.” 
you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours. 
“it’s mine now.” he states. 
“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers. 
sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin. 
“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper. 
“do you like him?” sukuna asks. 
“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper. 
“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?” 
“i-i’m not. you just-”
sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin. 
“relax.” 
you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.
“okay. you-”
“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers. 
“which guy?” 
“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.” 
you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 
“nothing. he-” 
sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp. 
“tell me what he said.” 
“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble. 
“things like?” 
“like you know. the usual stuff.” 
“that you’re ugly?” he asks. 
it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand. 
“do you believe him?” he asks. 
“no.” you respond. 
sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him. 
“are you lying to me?” 
“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back. 
when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away. 
“don’t be a tease, sukuna.” 
he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his. 
he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return. 
you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips. 
“needy?” 
“please. i want to-” 
sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.  
except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears. 
“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug. 
sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you. 
you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck. 
“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?” 
sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink. 
“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks. 
you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding. 
“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.” 
you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you. 
“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks. 
“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you. 
“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room. 
sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair. 
“whose your neighbor?” 
“jealous, princess?” he asks. 
you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest. 
“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-” 
“you are not a lackey.” he whispers. 
you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed. 
“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur. 
“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks. 
“dunno. you-” 
he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin. 
“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” 
“oh?” 
“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.” 
you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.
--
next part linked here
an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.
taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks
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bby-deerling · 4 months
Text
one piece men: when you're jealous
ft. zoro, sanji, law
a bit suggestive, so nsfw warnings apply! will likely do a part two with more characters soon!
masterlist
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zoro
the two of you keep to yourselves, tucked into the corner of a bar. his presence alone runs off any hopeful suitors looking to court you, but curiously, someone ends up buying him a drink. taking him swiftly downing the gifted alcohol as a sign to approach, a woman sits on the bar stool to the left of him; you expect him to simply ignore her, but the two of them get into an animated discussion about swordsmanship, and she starts to throw in subtle touches...
he's the type to be oblivious to the flirting of others; when he's drinking, he's friendlier than usual, and thinks of the interaction as nothing more than a simple conversation. he never considers anyone besides you in a romantic light, so the thought that he's being flirted with honestly never crosses his mind.
making a passive-aggressive comment under your breath comparing him to sanji makes the pieces click in his mind, and he realizes this woman's intentions aren't innocent, and those touches weren't just drunken accidents.
if you're the type to go quiet and sulk instead, he'll notice fairly quickly; seeing your expression makes him realize he's been ignoring you. he might not immediately put it together that you're jealous, but once he does, he's amused that you're being so mousy and cute about it.
in either case, after having his fun teasing you for being jealous, devilish smirk on his face, he takes you back to the sunny and reminds you of just how devoted he is to you, leaving your head spinning and wondering why you even got so worked up in the first place.
sanji
you feel invisible in the middle of the crowded market; despite the fact that you're traveling with your normally loving and doting boyfriend, he's spellbound by everything but you, throwing himself at any woman that moves. you're not sure whether the fact that he's repeatedly striking out is a comfort, or a further twist of the knife in your gut. all you know is that half of you wants to strangle him right now, and the other wants to cry.
you're going to have to drag him by the ear away from these women to get him to stop flirting and ogling. to be fair, you knew his behavior around other women was a fatal flaw of his, but he usually had the sense to at least tone it down.
if you're one to be more assertive, the two of you might just end up in an embarrassing argument in public; he argues that he was simply appreciating their beauty, and you argue that his excuse makes you feel even worse, which quickly shuts him up and leaves him groveling at your feet, prepared to serve any punishment you deem fit for him.
a silent, mopey approach works better to get through to him. seeing he's upset you and driven you nearly to tears shatters his heart and he switches up so fast, pulling you aside and feeding you all kinds of promises he will try his best to keep moving forward.
behind closed doors back on the sunny, he takes his time unraveling you, whispering hushed vows of devotion and love into your ear, determined to strike out the sins of his bad behavior. sanji may have a weak spot for pretty women, but he only loves you.
law
you're keeping your distance from law; the two of you are giving each other a mutual cold shoulder after a spat earlier in the day. usually, women who approach trafalgar law with hope and yearning in their hearts are ignored and turned away without a single word; law doesn't waste time on idle conversation that he views unworthy of his time... however, uncharacteristically, he's leaning in towards another woman at the bar, engaged in conversation, laying on the charm, and slowly leaning towards her to the point that shachi slings an apologetic arm around your shoulders and tries to console you.
watch out with this one... if you're currently in the middle of a fight, he will flirt back with someone else just to get on your nerves and try to goad you into apologizing first, even if your disagreement was his fault. he's also trying to procure messy, passionate make up sex from you. the flood of heightened emotions mixed with pleasure is addictive for him.
if he notices that he's only making you more upset with his behavior, and not in the way that makes you want to crawl into bed with him, he switches gears and sits next to you in silence, still too prideful to say even the simplest "i'm sorry" to you, even after he has unequivocally made things worse. however, after fifteen minutes of you refusing to even glance at him, he relents and has an adult conversation with you, about both his behavior and your fight earlier.
if you take the bait, approach him angrily and run off the woman at the bar with heated words, it takes a lot of self-restraint for law to hide the smug grin fighting to grace his features. a smooth talker when he wants to be, he knows exactly which buttons to push to get you cooled down enough to head back to the polar tang with him.
in both cases, law usually gets what he wants: the two of you working your frustrations out on each other underneath layers of sheets, the stupid fight from before long forgotten.
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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months
Text
Cod Men with Drunk!Reader
Requested: Yes [Can I request cod men with fem reader who is drunk with friends and when he goes to pick her up, she’s like refusing and saying she has a bf and starts blabbering about how much she loves him and she doesn’t even recognise him 😭]
Warnings: Reader is actually mostly GN cause I couldn’t find any way to casually mention them being fem, there is one Königin (german word for Queen) mention though, Drunk people behavior, Violence, Cops get called, Reader gets lots of kisses but nothing more than that
Ghost
Ghost is more than a little amused when you squirm in his hold as he picks you up, vehemently fighting him with your limbs what were weak from your drunk state, blabbering on and on about how you already have a boyfriend that you love with all your heart. It warms the empty black pit where his heart once resides, making the cracked edges of his soul pulse with life. Even like this, you still wanted him? Still didn’t want anyone but him? It didn’t even matter that you were so inebriated that you didn’t recognize him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your wide eyed expression, your mouth hanging open, made him chuckle.
And he promptly had to dodge your open hand trying to slap at him as you cried about how your boyfriend was gonna beat him up for that.
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Soap
Soap can’t help but laugh at you as he slings you over his shoulder, adoring the squeak that you let out when he does so, his hand smacking your ass rather harshly, telling you that he’ll just have to fight your boyfriend then. He asks if your boyfriend is stronger than him, more handsome, braver, as he drags you to the car, forcefully buckling you into the backseat, his grin only widening when you say that he is. He’s certain he’s never been more in love than in this moment, nuzzling his nose to yours affectionately before putting on the child locks to the back doors and taking you home. (He was a little less amused when he got pulled over by the police on the way home because you somehow found a pen and some paper in the backseat and used it to ask a nearby driver to call the cops)
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König
König finds it quite endearing but it’s also a bit nerve wracking, worried that people around you will get the wrong intention as he tries to quietly escort you to the car as you insist that you have a boyfriend that you already love, trying to sneak past him back into the bar. The words warm his heart but people are starting to look at him suspiciously so he shushes you softly.
“Königin, please. You’re making a scene.” He tells you softly, his big hands cupping your face as you stare at him with confusion before loudly demanding to know why he knows the nickname he always calls you. König sighs, knowing this was going to be a long trip home.
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Alejandro
Alejandro just laughs, pulling you into his lap right there at the bar, pressing kisses all over your face as he remarks on how lucky your boyfriend is to have such a beautiful and loyal partner. Your flustered and defiant look only amuses him more and he presses extra kisses to your cheeks before nibbling at your ears, standing up with you in his arms. “You’re really adorable, Amor!” He tells you, carrying your writhing body all the way to the car, buckling you in securely, kissing your lips softly before getting secured himself. Thankfully you fell asleep on the way home so he didn’t have to drag you kicking and screaming into the house.
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Krueger
Krueger is a mix between exhausted and amused as you try to fight him at the bar, crying about how you can’t go home with him because you have a boyfriend already and you love him. It’s cute but people are starting to look distressed and he even thinks he sees some people on the phone starting to call the police, his gruff and blank face does the situation no favors. No amount of reassurances seem to quell you so eventually he just tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marches to the door. One guy actually tries to block the door, thinking you were in danger, and Krueger tries to get around him but the man is insistent and the both of them are getting more agitated as time passes so he eventually just clocks the man in the face, knocking him out cold before dragging you home.
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Keegan
“That so?” Keegan hums when you try to push him away while claiming that you already have a boyfriend, a smirk on his face as he leans into your face, snickering at how your nose scrunches up so cutely. “I think I could take him in a fight.” He says, only growing more giddy with how you vehemently deny it, telling him how your boyfriend could kick his ass sooooo easily. He’s delighted by your loyalty even while in such a state and he chuckles, nipping your nose and pulling you into his arms, nuzzling the top of your head as you bang your fists against his chest and shoulders. “C’mon, Doll. It’s time to go home. And in the morning we can talk more about this boyfriend of yours.”
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eyebagshawty · 4 months
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Hello! May I request Lae’zel, Karlach, and whoever else you want to write being washed by the reader. I find the idea of bathing and taking care of someone to be really sweet.
Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav
A/N: Hello! Sorry for just getting around to requests and other things now, the end of the semester got pretty crazy (at least I passed everything !) and now I’m finally able to focus and get out of this rut. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!
Characters: Lae’zel, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, Astarion, Halsin
Part 2
Lae’zel
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• When you first offer to wash up with Lae’zel she’s mostly confused and kind of annoyed - there’s already a tadpole in her head, and that’s enough lack of privacy.
• “Chk. At my crèche these things are normal. However, you istiks insist on attaching emotional meaning to such things… no.”
• However the more she thinks about it… you two have shared a bed more than once. She respects you more than the others; when she tells you to speak she also makes sure you know she will listen. She supposes that maybe connection wouldn’t be so bad with you of all people.
• She just walks up to your tent, grabs your hand, and says “Fine.”
You meet her at the waterfront and- is she nervous? Her gaze wavers between you and the night sky, feet firmly planted into the ground and arms across her armored chest. You get most of your armor off, but that last clasp just has to give you trouble. “Lae’zel, could you help me out with this?” It’s silent for a tension filled moment, and you’re about to ask again.
“Chk.” She walks over and with ease undoes the clasp. She’s back to feet firmly planted and arms crossed, only looking at the sky. You unfurl your hair from its practical braid and keep your eyes on her. “I wish I could show you the Tears.” Your eyes widen when you think about the first night she invited you to her bunk, how hard getting used to this unusual plane must be for her. You place your hand on her shoulder and she tenses, but relaxes after she’s brought back to the moment.
“I wish I could see them.” You whisper to her. You ‘help’ her out of her armor (she’s just letting you at this point, she could’ve been out of it in 30 seconds flat) and you both hiss as you enter the cold water. After a soft and asking touch, she allows you to undo her hair and wash it. You gather her hair gently into your hands and have her lean back to the water. As she does, you can see that she clearly hasn’t been this vulnerable in maybe ever. You give a soothing stroke to her scalp and she hums. As you lather the looted soap into her hair and scratch your nails lightly, you hear her sniffle.
“Lae’zel… are you alright?” You stop your ministrations but keep a hand cupped at the back of her neck.
“My-my queen is false. I will never ascend. Tsk’va, I’m an enemy to my kin. I don’t want to be on this plane anymore… I miss the astral. I must fight but I do not know how to keep going.” She quickly wipes her tears and looks at you. “Speak, source of my bruises. I will always listen.”
With her hair looking clean, you slowly move the bar between her shoulder blades and move it in soothing circles. You kiss her temple. “My love, this situation is quite a mess. Tadpoles in our heads, endless injuries, and I cannot imagine what this world must be like for someone who has never been in it. We will get through this. I’m here. I’m yours.” With that she shows an inkling of a smile as she stares into the water in thought. You continue to bathe her with soft kisses in between every swipe of soap along with words of reassurance. You are hers, the source of her bruises.
Karlach
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•Once Karlach is able to touch people again, she is ecstatic to wash up with you. She’s barely been able to keep her hands off of you since, so when you offer she squeals.
• “Of fucking course soldier! Who knows, we might even be able to turn that river into a hot spring.” Her eyebrows waggle and your face goes beet red.
• When you meet her she definitely cannonballs into the water and complains when it’s shallow
• “Aw hells, that’s gonna be a kink to work out in the morning.”
• You guys don’t bathe for a good 15 minutes, she’s just kissing you and rubbing your sides and it’s so SWEET
She breaks away from the kiss and wades further into the water. You grab the soap from the grass and follow after, settling your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Her fingers come up to pinch your nose and she flops backwards into the water, leaving both of you sopping wet when she comes back up. “Gods Karlach you’re gonna kill me,” you sputter as you cough out the bit of water that got in your mouth. She pats your back and lets out a full bellied laugh.
“That’s right soldier get it all out,” she grins. You shoot her a playful glare. When your collective giggles finally die down, you bring the bar of soap up to her hair and begin lathering and spreading it with your fingers. Her eyes close with a serene smile. You make sure to get the area around her horns, and she kisses your cheeks as you take care of them. “You know… after Gortash. After… Avernus. Nobody has taken care of me like this in so long. So fucking long.” She sighs as you bring the bar to her neck and chest, taking away the near pints of blood the party had spilled earlier.
“I’ll make sure it never is that way again. I love you, and no matter what happens you deserve to be free from all of this.” You meet her gaze as the bar moves to her shoulders, and you see fear.
“Tav… my heart.” She lets out a choked sob and a tear streams down her cheek that you immediately wipe away. “I finally have you after so godsdamn long, and I don’t want to lose what’s most important. Not again. I’m just so scared.” She breaks down into tears and her skin heats up warmly under your skin. You crush her into your chest and she buries her face into your neck, where you rub soothing circles into her scalp along with kisses.
“You won’t lose me. Whether it be in Baldurs Gate or Avernus, I’ll be here.” She lifts her head and you kiss her nose, where a little flame sparks and then snuffs out. She lets out a soft chuckle as her mood cools. “I promise to you we’re gonna kill that pathetic little fucker and anyone who helped him.” Her lips meet yours and you kiss back with eager passion. As you pull away you go back to soothingly rubbing the bar across the planes of her back.
“Wait- didn’t you grab this soap off a dead guy?! GROSS soldier!”
Shadowheart
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•She immediately says no
•Not because she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t swim and finds it a bit embarrassing for her powerful presence
•After you finally convince her it’ll only be where she can stand, she agrees.
• “A bottle of wine, my lover, and a nice grassy beach? It’ll do,” she gives a sarcastic but playful smile.
•You two get plastered on Chultan Fireswill before you hop in
After one last swig from the bottle Shadowheart takes your hand and leads you into the water. You stop at around three feet deep and get to your knees. Her braid whips around her shoulder as she serenely begins to scrub away blood with the soap bar. “I love this silver color so much. It illuminates you as some would say,” you utter softly, and she chuckles. She slowly takes her hair out of the braid’s confines and your jaw drops at how long and pretty it is as it flows down her back. You look pointedly to the bar of soap. “May I?”
She squints at you in playful suspicion then smiles. “You may.” You lather the soap into her hair and she lays her head back into your chest as you scratch lovingly at her scalp. She brings her hand up to your cheek behind her and whispers, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” As soon as the words leave her lips the wound in her hand opens. She hisses and sits back up. As she looks back to you, her gaze looks broken. “After everything I’ve been through with the dark lady, I don’t think this will ever go away.”
You inch your hand closer to hers, placing your pinkies over each other. “It’s horrible… what she did to you.” She grins bitterly but moves to interlace your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb.
“I just wish I could remember any of that horrible stuff. I want to be angry. But mostly I’m only numb. She was… she was everything to me. And although it is horrible yes, it’s all so new. Being away from her.”
She nods in confirmation as you move the bar of soap to her chest, the motions soothing her and making her eyes soften as she watches you. “I understand,” you whisper as you lean up to kiss the shell of her pointed ear. That’s all that needs to be said, Shadowheart thinks to herself. You’ve become more than her greatest companion in her eyes, she trusts you’ll be there through thick and thin. “We’ll just have to make new memories,” you smile, and as you finish rubbing the soap across her body you throw it back to the grass, pulling her into a loving kiss as she wraps her arms around your neck.
Wyll
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•When you offer to wash up with Wyll a MASSIVE blush runs across his cheeks
• “Are you sure? ImsurethehornsfreakyououtandtheresbumpsinotherstrangeplacesIdontwantyou-“ he basically starts talking at a mile a minute about how it might be awkward for you
• “Wyll honey, I can just meet you there while you’re already in if that’s more comfortable for you” and you give him a sweet smile and his face goes red AGAIN
By the time you get to the waterfront, you see Wyll propped against a rock, the water resting at waist level with his arms propping him up. You throw him a shy smile. He has a sly grin and nods your way, beckoning you towards him. You twirl your finger and mouth, “Turn around!” He lets out a silent chuckle and turns his head towards the mountains beyond the lake.
You slide out of your evening clothes and grab the soap bar laying on top of your towel. As you wade further into the water you let out a shriek — it wasn’t winter right? Wyll turns around and laughs at the sight; you’re rubbing your arms with chattering teeth. “It is quite frigid tonight, huh? I think I’ve got a cantrip in me for a special someone.”
You look around, bemused, as to how spells could possibly help you out here. Wyll shoots a fireball into the depths of the water, your skin instantly warming up. However, it doesn’t last long as the lake cools back down to freezing. You swim at the speed of light over to Wyll and wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry, I just need something. By the nine hells you think a blizzard would be rolling through,” you laugh. When you’ve warmed up enough, you take the bar of soap and gingerly begin to wash and lather his hair and horns, kissing the scars across his face.
Wyll looks down at you, surprise slathered across his face as you finish up with his head and move to his broad shoulders, kissing everything infernal you can find. “Tav…you like this?” He brings up a hand to your cheek as you continue your ministrations. You cup water in your hands and gently rinse away the soap on his chest.
“Of course I do, Mizora could make you look fully cambion and I would still have the strongest of feelings for you. You’ll always be my dashing, strong, Blade of Frontiers,” you peck his neck with each last word, and he laughs, kissing your forehead with a soft cherishing smile.
Gale
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• When you offer to Gale, he gives you the most devious look you’ve ever seen
• He hasn’t been around others for so long till now, much less bathing with anyone, and he’s grown pretty strong feelings for you so he love love loves this idea
• “My dear Tav I would love to! You know how I enjoy your body after a battle, all the sweat covering your skin and the flush of your cheeks”
• He’s not your quietest companion so everybody does hear this and everybody does let out an exasperated groan
• Your face flushes even further than when you asked him and you squeak out an okay and run to your tent
When you meet up with Gale at the waterfront, his tunic is already off, showing his surprisingly wonderful muscles. He kisses you upon greeting, and helps you out of your evening clothes with a soft caress here and there on every part of your body. You grab your soap and lead him into the water, the water being just warm enough for your plans.
He gathers you into his lap, his cheeks a light red as he grins up at you. You lather the soap and scrub it into his hair, listening to his groans and praises as you work. You kiss his cheeks as you move to his chest, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking up at you with those big round puppy eyes.
“This is surprisingly wonderful. I remember doing things like this for her, running water through her hair and lathering the finest oils onto her skin, but she never once did anything for me.” You stop your work, looking up to his eyes with an expression of shock and sadness. His eyes bore just as strongly into yours, and his thumbs rub circles into your hips.
“Gale… you are worthy of being loved. What she did to you wasn’t right — it never was, even from the beginning if I’m getting my facts straight. She isolated and took from you. I never want you to feel like that with me.” You kiss his cheeks and his hairline, and his lips follow yours, chasing to press them together.
They finally do, and his kiss is filled with eager passion, pouring every thought he’s had about you into you. When you pull away he lets out a soft whine, bringing his hand to your neck. “I’m in love with you, darling. And I know and trust that you feel the same, any need of the tadpole be damned.” You smile and begin to continue rubbing the soap into his stomach, but he stops you. He brings his lips to yours once more, and he rolls you over onto your back in the water, letting you prove how loved he is.
Astarion
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• His eyes go soft and round when you ask him
• “Really?? Little old me??” Even after the graveyard and all your reassurances, he’s still moving towards actual coupley things
• “You’ve never wanted a luxurious meal and bath together my love?” You take his hand stroke his fingers with care
• If he could blush he would, but he just sputters with the goblet of wine he has
• He collects himself back into charming mode, “Well then, I thought you’d never ask. Come find me when you’re ready.” He kisses your cheeks and literally just walks off into the woods, leaving you standing at the entrance to your shared tent looking absolutely befuddled
When you find him at the hot spring the camp had discovered last night, he’s already in the water with his eyes closed angling his head towards the night sky. His ears twitch as he hears you begin to take off your evening clothes, and his eyes open to look at you with a rakish smile. “Why hello, my treasure. The water feels amazing.” You smile, grab your soap and head in. Immediately you groan with relief, the hot water soothing the aches from your nasty fight with some undead earlier.
Astarion moves closer to you, taking the most warmth he can get. You bring your arms around his neck and just stay there for a minute. He hugs you back, burying his face into the crook in your shoulder. You fingers lightly stroke against his raised scars in a loving motion, and after his breath hitches he melts into your touch, practically purring as you lavish him with affection. When you pull away his loss of heat is devastating. However, he calms down when you begin to wash his hair, scratching at his scalp and running the hot water over his curls.
“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone touch my hair like this,” he mumbles. You kiss his cheek and move the bar to his chest and shoulders, working out any aches and pains he might have.
“Well, now you have me my love,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his ear.
“I just can’t believe that after everything you want to stay. The sky is beautiful tonight, but it is all I will ever know once this mindflayer business is said and done with.” His words are bitter, almost as if he is angry with himself.
“It is all we will know my love. And I’m actually quite the night owl. As much as I love our ragtag group, I’m quite introverted around most of society. Everything is fine,” you kiss his bite marks, the hollows of his cheeks, and finally his lips. He kisses you back fervently, pouring care he was never able to show for anyone else previously. You pull away and finish gently washing the rest of his body in silence. As you prop your neck to the side for him, he looks at you with an expression akin to great offense.
“Darling! I thought you knew me well enough to know the bath is never over after only soap.” He waves his hand over to the small crate of oils he’d brought to the spring. “Now, I’m feeling lavender tonight. How about you my love?”
You give him a beaming smile, wading out of the spring to retrieve it. “Sounds wonderful, my heart.”
Halsin
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• You don’t even really have to ask him, he’s just joined you most of the time to protect you
• He doesn’t like you venturing out in to the woods by yourself, because Silvanus help him a lot of people are after you guys
• “Of course my heart — Scratch is licking at his paw a bit so I need to inspect that, but I will join you in just a couple of minutes.”
• With an encouraging woof from Scratch, you caress his shoulder and go to collect your things
You’ve stuffed all the stuff needed for the bath into two large bags, your arms making you crouch downward with the weight. As Halsin walks to meet you he sees this, chuckles, and wild shapes into his bear form. He takes the bag handles into his mouth and nudges your leg with his snout. You pet his head and hop onto his back, him letting you ride on it as you both make your way to the water.
On arrival, you hop off and he drops the items into the grass. As his bear form is used most in combat, you grab out a bottle of soap you’d nicked off of that crazy dog handler in Rivington. You drizzle it all over his fur and gather some of the river water into a bucket. You begin scrubbing the soap into his fur, and he lets out cute little groans and growls. When you finish you dump the bucket of water onto him, and he lets out a noise of surprise. He turns back into regular Halsin, his hair soaked down against his head with playful exasperation.
“My heart, you did not need to release the full power of a waterfall onto me I assure you.” You laugh and beckon him into the water. He wades in and smothers you with kisses.
“Halsin please! I need to breathe!” You giggle, pushing at his chest. He finally settles down, pulling you into his lap.
“Thank you for helping me with the shadow curse. Thaniel he… he needed us. He needed you.” He settles into a somber smile, nuzzling his nose against your temple.
You trace your fingers across his chest, leaving kisses that follow. “I knew the lands needed our help, and I’m glad he’s free from the curse. All we have left is this elder brain, and we can go back to the grove and live in peace.”
He tilts your chin up with his hand, and looks tenderly into your eyes. “I would be blessed by Silvanus to spend my thousands of years with you.” He crashes his lips into yours, one of many you’ll share over the passage of time.
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otaku553 · 27 days
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Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit
Some more design notes below:
Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.
For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.
I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.
I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.
Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.
I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha
The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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How does Shiggy react to a darling who developed Stockholm Syndrome?
Shigaraki Tomura
TW: NSFW, captive darling, Stockholm Syndrome, ish benevolent sexism
fem reader
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You kissed him a little while back.
It was strange, as though you’d forgotten yourself – lost yourself in the heat of the moment. But no, it had been deliberate and long-lasting – earnest and needy even. And had rendered him both speechless and in a panic.
He’d entered the room in a rigid mood and woken you up with a bite to your ass. Pulling your thighs snugly around him with his cock already swole between them – tugging your panties down your thighs while you were still rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. 
You’d learned rather quickly never to fight him. He’d punish you with bitemarks and no food, and ultimately you grew too weak to reject him anyway. So your casual acceptance wasn’t anything new where you patiently awaited getting fucked – lying on your back while looking down at his fat member disappearing inside you with only a tiny moan slipping free from your lips.
You took him obediently as you’d done for a while – without protest. The only difference occurred after he’d twisted the two of you around so you could straddle and ride him. You’d pressed your naked breasts into his chest and taken his face in your hands – gently as you rolled your hips without guidance – and then, right before the kiss, you’d said, so very softly, “I missed you today… it’s boring here without you~” 
Your voice was sultry, kissing him tender yet deeply – pouring sweet moans into his mouth while your hands tangled in his hair. 
You’d traveled to his neck after, and he came as soon as your tongue licked the scars found there – digging his fingers into the plush of your hips, keeping you seated as he spluttered all his worth inside you.
He’d been in such a state of post-shock that he’d rushed out just after. Leaving you.
Kurogiri had pointed out his blush while he sat at the bar, mulling it over with a bottle of brown in his grip. He shuddered, recurring the feeling – your pillowy wet lips on his, those words leaving your tongue, your hands playing with his hair, pulling him close. His chest felt tight, just as tight as the furrow between his brows.
Dabi sat down a couple of stools away sometime later in the night. Often, Shigaraki would abstain from engaging in conversation with the guy, but really, at least in this case, he was the best choice of any to ask for input. After all, they weren’t all that different. Actually, when it came to basics, they were both pretty similar – same-aged, ugly, and ridden with family issues from scars to fractured memories.
Dabi gave him a dumb look, his brow raised as though to ask what he was staring at after noticing his side-eye.
“You still have the same girl?” He jumped straight to it.
Dabi’s dumb expression turned dumber. Confused, maybe not so much by the question itself but by why the boss was even talking to him. But most emotions are like matches for Dabi, and they burn out before they’re able to light any fires. Soon, the usual sense of disinterest washed over him, and his face eased up into that chronic jaded look. 
Shigaraki nearly lost patience, reminded once again why he couldn’t stand the guy – rude as ever and so slow it made his skin itch. But then he gave his answer, “Yeah, I still have her.”
“She difficult?” Shigaraki followed up.
And Dabi took his time once again, hauling out the seconds before offering his answer in a drawl. “No, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in quickly.”
Shigaraki let it settle - Stockholm Syndrome – before looking back at his drink and repeating the thought once again. Stockholm Syndrome.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” He mumbled then.
Dabi sighed, taking a swig of his beer. It was already the third one, but he’d only been sitting there for about half an hour. “Not really…” He disagreed. “Most girls are better survivors.”
It was Shigaraki’s turn to look dumb, looking puzzled as he stared down the barrel to his bottle – in wait of an explanation – almost as though he was under the impression it was the drink who was speaking and not the patch-faced raven-head sitting beside him.
“They learn quickly to accept what will keep them safe, and then, they find solace in whatever they can to maintain their mental health as well…” Said raven-haired guy continued – then he scoffed. “Boys fight until they break. Leaving them a shell of what they once were. But girls don’t have the same pride.”
He swirled his bottle, stove-top blue eyes lazy, looking at the last of his drink storm with waves inside the green glass.
“They leave themselves behind and become someone new.” He offered a dry chuckle, and Shigaraki spotted the unsightly way his staples only barely held the split of his smile together. “It’s actually kind of scary.” He finished before downing the last gulp, setting the bottle down with a bang.
He swung off his stool, shoving his hands down his pockets, and walked away – his back turned.
“If I were you, I’d embrace it, boss. Despite what we try to believe, that shit feels best when it’s given willingly.”
Shigaraki sat there a moment longer. Long enough to get cut off by Kurogiri, who told him drinking anymore would be a bad idea.
When he got back to the room, you were sleeping again.
He stood and stared at you for a moment. 
Was this a game you were playing? Was it a joke?
You’d pulled on one of his hoodies. And upon a closer look, you hadn’t showered either… 
Strange of you to leave his cum inside you... 
But thinking back about it, you hadn’t been so distant with him for a while already. You’d been trivial – conversational – even chirpy, if he could call it that.
Was it like Dabi said? Had you reached your breaking point for loneliness, leaving him to be your only resource? Or had you accepted the circumstances and willed yourself to play along? 
He didn’t know, but the doubt stormed an upset in his mind as he lifted the covers and laid down next to you. But despite the exhaustion, the lure of sleep still wasn’t enough to make him close his eyes – he was stuck staring at you, mapping out all those qualities that make up your pretty face.
So deep in his studies, he nearly flinched when your eyes fluttered open.
A small smile graced your lips soon after. “You’re back…” You murmured, eyes softly blinking at him before you scooched closer – shimmying yourself over to him until you were all the way up against his chest, nuzzling your head against his collar with sleepy sounds of comfort. Resting there for a blissful moment before purring out a sweet “Good night~”
But he couldn’t sleep that night. Too busy listening to your soft snores – feeling the clingy way you clutched his cotton T-shirt.
He couldn’t bring himself to touch you either. For a long while – it was as though he was… scared almost. Freaked out by your doting – that way you’d hug him when he entered through the door – placing kisses on places he wasn’t used to – his cheek, his forehead, his neck, his knuckles. 
Grabbing his sleeve. “Don’t go, Tomura…” You said once when he had his hand on the doorknob and the key halfway twisted in the lock. “Please… don’t leave.”
His throat went tight. It had been like that for a while – ever since that first kiss, actually, he’d been unable to talk to you – unsure what to say.
But you hadn’t the same issue.
“You haven't touched me in a while…” You continued, taking his hand away from the doorknob in both yours, playing with his fingers – bringing it up to your face – you cuddled it like he’d not threatened you with his touch many many many times before. “Are you bored with me?” You asked instead of the obvious, keeping him at a loss for words. “Or… have I scared you away?”
You? Scared him?
Your lips brushed his fingers as one of your hands made a slow descent – making him jerk with a gasp as it went straight to cup his groin – tender yet firm, giving it a squeeze.
“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” You said coyly, eyes doe-like but kittenish all the same, with a pouty and small smirk playing on your lips before you bit into them – brows cinching, giving him a flirty pleading expression. “Please, Tomura?” You said his name as though it didn’t belong to him. “It gets so lonely here…” You kissed his palm. “Won’t you give me a proper goodbye, at least?”
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cozage · 10 months
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Hi hope you are having a good day
I wanted to know what would it be like if, Mihawk, Shanks and Buggy had a female s/o that was basically like inosuke from demon slayer, they are a bit dumb but will pick a fight with everyone, and they only wear a bandaged top with like shorts or smt.
You guys have been asking me lots of questions and making me feel loved so here is this!!! (And maybe more spicy things to come later this week 👀)
Characters: female reader x Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy Wordcount: 850 CW: the last bullet point in all of them that are a little spicy
She’s Kinda Stupid, but…
Mihawk
This man is literally so tired. He’s so tired. 
Will very often say things like “I didn’t know I was in charge of three children.” (yes Perona and Zoro are his CHILDREN okay) or “Are you acting your age today, or are we pretending you’re six years old again?” or “I’ve met dogs more behaved than you.” (it’s all coming from a place of love and he knows you won't take offense because you don’t take offense to anything)
You’re a brat and he knows it (and loves it). He loves you but god you are so much work when the two of you are out in public. He feels like he can’t take his eyes off you or you’ll end up in a fight with some random guy because he looked at you funny. 
Most of the time he doesn’t acknowledge your shenanigans. When you fight with someone, he’ll grab your wrist and physically pull you away from them, usually with some kind of snide remark. 
Sometimes you’re justified, though. And when that happens, he gives the guy who wronged you five seconds to apologize before he sets you loose. Most of the time the guy sees Mihawk and apologizes, but the swordsman secretly hopes the guy won't apologize. And on the few occasions they don't apologize, he smirks as he releases you. 
He always has to pull you off the guy because you just don't know when to stop. In all truthfulness, it kind of gets him hot and bothered, but he always pretends to be irritated. “You’re psychotic. Do I need to teach you how to behave?” he scolds, his gold eyes scanning your body. “I can think of a few ways to get you to listen.”
Shanks
Shanks adores you. Cheers you on. Loves watching you cause absolute chaos. Why? Because you are him without a conscience. 
Shanks knows when he needs to flip the switch from polite to fight, but you don’t. You are always at 100%, your most authentic self 24/7. And he absolutely adores that about you. Even if that means that sometimes you take it a bit too far. 
Sometimes Shanks will even use your emotions to his advantage. “Can you believe that guy just did that?!” or “Talk about rude!” knowing full well you’re ready to throw down whoever wronged you or him. 
The absolute only time that Shanks will stop you from fighting someone is when you all are in a building. He’s had to pay SO MANY owners back for you destroying glassware and furniture and plenty of other damaged goods. You learned pretty quickly that the first words out of your mouth should be “Wanna take this outside?!” because if you were outside then Shanks didn’t stop you. 
The first few fights, he watched carefully, making sure he would be able to jump in if he needed to. The next couple of fights, he watched you with an amused look, excited to see how you were going to beat up the guy (and just to make sure you would win). Nowadays, he doesn’t even feel the need to go outside with you, but sometimes he does just to cheer you on. 
After your victory, he always rewards you with a bunch of kisses and sings your praises. He pulls you onto his lap at the bar, making sure everyone knows you're his. “You did so well. I loved how you stomped that guy into the dirt,” he’ll coo, dotting kissing across your neck. “How about later I show you just how proud I am of you, okay?”
Buggy
You never cease in stressing this man out. He is always on high alert now because of you. 
Stealth missions? Forget it. Normal day in town? Absolutely not. He BEGS you to be a normal human being in public. To have an ounce of self preservation. But you cannot comprehend that. People who talk shit deserve to get hit.
He is constantly running after you, screaming at you to stop fighting people for no reason. Sometimes he’ll even jump in front of your punches to try and de-escalate it (which of course doesn’t work and results in you just punching him in the face). You don’t even feel bad, you just scream at him to get out of the way and beat up the other guy even more since he made you hurt your boyfriend.
If anyone makes fun of him, he doesn’t even have a chance to scream at them anymore. You’re already pounding their face into the ground. And every time you do, he falls in love with you a little bit more. 
“That’s right, that’s my baby!” he screams, watching you smugly walk away from some guy’s beaten body. “Let’s go celebrate, you can do whatever you want.” He grabs your hand, practically pulling you back to the ship.
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madelynraemunson · 8 days
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— along for the ride ☆
🐃 the tag team (co-writers): @joshlmbrt @swiss-mrs @mediocredreams 🩶
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eddie x fem!reader
a/n: reading flight of icarus and finding out eddie is from tennessee REALLY husked my corn 🤠 also, this may or may not have been inspired by the bull fight scene in hoard
cw: daydream p in v sex, riding, eddie gets a hard on watching reader ride, innuendos, play on words
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Stamina. Strength. Strategy. Safety. The Four Important S’s when it comes to bull-riding. 
‘Support’ is your unofficial fifth. You’ve generated quite the following after showcasing your riding skills at Whisky Jim’s every Saturday night, the ooohs and aaahs of your spectators filling the air as the spotlight drenches your cute… calculated… perspiring body. 
Bull-riding at the dive bar every weekend has become a favorite hobby of yours. It’s a perfect outlet for all the stress, the rough-and-tough of it all perfectly counterbalancing your slow-as-snails, but somehow busy and draining 9 to 5. Riding gave you something to look forward to.
“Look at her go,” an onlooker coos in admiration. “She’s got life by the goddamn horns.”
You toss your head back, glossy lips parted in excitement as the crowd’s appreciative hoots and whistles filled the air.  You could get used to this. You have gotten used to this.
Even with the world at your feet, things were starting to get boring again. And you are constantly craving something wild, something new. Something or someone that will make like the bull by sweeping you off your feet and taking you out for a spin.
Someone like Eddie Munson, perhaps.
Eddie isn’t sure what drew him… here out of all places. But something about the rowdiness compels him as he climbs out of his van, Halen and into the bar, boots scuffing the hard wooden floor. But the flight-risk metalhead is determined to find out, itching for adventure as he saunters with feigned confidence into the southern saloon. 
He flags down the closest bartender, a country heartthrob of a man with black hair and blue eyes. The Casanaova places a coaster down in front of him as Eddie steps up to the plate. “What’ll ya be havin’?”
“Anything local,” Eddie replies, more of a question, unsure of what exactly is available. “Anything hoppy.”
“Bottle or Tap?” the man follows up after a curt nod, mindlessly running a hand over his thick mustache.
“Tap. Pint, please.”  
The bartender gives another nod before disappearing to fulfill Eddie’s request. Meanwhile, the outcast takes this short window of time to look up and down the bar at the different patrons. 
All from different walks of life. But all here for presumably the same reason.Whisky Jim’s is decently packed, but for the most part, the crowd is congregated either in booths, at tables, or in the middle of the floor.
A glass is placed onto the coaster. The same deep country twang effectively regains Eddie’s attention.
“Wanna start a tab, brother?” The older man asks with a polite grin, eyes crinkling up at the sides as he does. 
Eddie offers a polite smile in return.
“Uh, sure. Thanks.” 
The bartender studies him intently this time, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“First timer?”
 Eddie clears his throat uneasily, kicking at the peanut casings at his feet to avoid contact with the John Wayne of a man that was in front of him.
“Obvious?” 
The man cackles at Eddie, the slight patronization of the old-timer’s demeanor making him want to evaporate. But the amused blue eyes and downturned smile indicates it’s all in good fun, much like his uncle Wayne who always liked giving him a hard time whenever he made himself too small. 
“Son, you couldn’t stick out further if you were a dog’s balls.” 
A fellow bartender laughs at the man’s remark. Then Eddie joins in. It was pretty funny. 
“You just don’t really look like the kind to be into square dancin’, is all,” the bartender remarks as he narrows his eyes at Eddie. Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, slightly wincing as the first sip hits him.
“Well, you’re not wrong. Just thought I’d explore a bit outside of my usual.” 
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Eddie.”
“Greg.” The bartender gives him his hand to shake. “You from around here or you comin’ from outta town?” 
“Hawkins.” 
“Not too far from home then. And it seems you came on a good night.” 
And as if on cue, the crowd towards the middle of the building erupts in cheers. Eddie briefly glances over his shoulder in the general direction before turning back to Greg with a curious head tilt.
“What’s happening?” 
Greg nods his head over in the direction of the crowd.
“Bull Ridin’ Night.”
Your thighs are wrapped around the firm leather seat as you’re whisked around in one fluid motion. You turn to give your rapt audience a wink. The crowd eats up your presence, evident by the adorn kisses they blow your way. You buy into the theatrics, pretending to catch them before putting them in your back pocket for later. It only riles the audience up more.
“They bring that thing out on Saturdays,” Greg explains. “Between the Karaoke Nights and the Hoedowns, Bull Ridin’ is one of the most popular.”
 Eddie tries another glance in that direction, but due to the crowd, he doesn’t have the best view of who is actually riding.
 “You gon’ give it a try?”
 Eddie’s head whips back around to the older man to find a teasing smirk on his face. Eddie shakes his head.
“I… don’t think so.” He chuckles. “I’m not the most balanced or coordinated person.” He admits that with a grimace and another sip of his Hawkins Pale Ale. 
“I’m just teasin’ ya, boy. HEY!” Greg whistles at the bartender next to him. “Who’s up there now?” 
 The coworker throws a quick glance over their shoulder before replying. There’s a bashful smirk when they reply, 
“Who do you think?” 
The crowd erupts again, cheers and whistles alike. Who else gets this kind of crowd engagement? No one else other than you, of course. 
“Looks like my girl is up there breakin’ hearts again.” Greg lets out a soft laugh. 
Eddie gulps as his breathing shallows. A girl? Up there? On that thing?
Eddie, once again, nearly strains his neck trying to get a glimpse of the rider. When he fails, Eddie turns back to the bar, downing the final quarter of his pint, before looking back at Greg.
“Fetch me a bottle for the road, yeah?”
 Greg issues him a chuckle, grabbing the empty glass and handing him a bottle version of that very ale, while Eddie sets off on his curiosity journey to the middle of the floor.
“Boys will be boys.” Greg’s female coworker remarks with sassy pursed lips.
Eddie closes in on the crowd,  slipping through the few empty spaces between the onlookers with half-assed ‘Excuse me’s. Though no one was paying him any mind. And when he settles by the barrier, just a mere two rows behind, he finally gets the perfect view of you.
Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face at the sight of you working the crowd. He watches as you give a practiced flick of your hips to get the crowd going and the enticing jiggle of your breasts under your tight shirt. Drew in Eddie’s eyes like a laser beam. The thin material was stretched taut, giving a hint of the perfect tits underneath as you arched your lower back and thrust your chest forward to keep your balance. 
“Christ,” he exhales sharply, in awe of your natural performance, the boisterous, unpredictable gravity of the machine whirling you around as you wrestle to hold on. 
His eyes drink in the sight of the soft, rounded curve of your ass that peeked out of the bottom of your faded Daisy Duke’s as you lean forward to steady yourself in the saddle.
WHOOSH!
The bull jerks sideways and you flex your thighs and circle your hips in the saddle to keep yourself astride. The plush skin of your upper thighs press tightly against the seat and your upper body sways in rhythm with the bull’s movement. 
You were born to ride.
“That’s how you do it, Indiana!” a spectator hoots in adoration as you cling on for dear life. “That’s how you do it!”
You give a deep roll of your hips to meet the thrust of the machine, causing Eddie to run the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before sucking in a shaky breath. Your hips… the way they roll… is almost hypnotic, and Eddie’s brown doe eyes can’t help but linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out, black, intricate swirls of cyber-sigilism that tease him slightly. 
Fuck.
“God, she’s so pretty…” he thinks to himself. “And she knows how to ride.”
Eddie’s eyes trail to the white of your knuckles, his own fingers gripping the bottle of his beer when his eyes slide up your arm and land on your face.
The front of his pants start to feel uncomfortably tight. Eddie adjusts himself as discreetly as he could, but even the soft brush of his fingers against the strained denim causes  him to hiss under his breath.
“Ride it, cowgirl!” an audience’s comment centers Eddie once again. “LET ‘EM KNOW!”
The way you matched the bull’s gyrations and anticipated its every move made him weak in the knees, and as he watched you swirl your hips in the saddle like a modern day Annie Oakley he couldn’t help but wish it was him straddled between your shapely thighs instead. 
As Eddie stood there watching, the dull roar of the crowd faded into the background. At that moment it was just you and him. 
In his mind he’s already lassoed you to his bed; and you’re sat astride him like a cowgirl in your saddle, hands splayed on his chest for balance as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. And you’d bite down on your plush lower lip and let out a soft moan as you sank down onto him slowly, taking your time and adjusting to his size. 
“Oh, Eddie,” he could almost hear you purring. “It’s so big.”
And he’d chuckle with false modesty and rub a hand tenderly along your thigh as if to soothe the delicious stretch of his thick girth.Then once you adjusted, you’d move, meeting each unpredictable roll of his hips with your own as you mastered the rhythm of your very own long-haired bucking bronco.
And he’d be gripping you tight with each deep thrust, pistoning, plowing himself into you while watching his cock disappear into your slick pussy over and over with each forceful snap of his hips. And with every strained mewl he milks out of you he’d press you down by the hips and drill into you further, your weak cunt just about ready to tap out on top of him. This handsome bull’s sure a challenge, you’d be thinking to yourself. Eddie is a ride you wouldn’t be able to survive.
———
The crowd disperses when the show is over. Eddie stands a bit straighter when you finally leave the middle of the floor, eyes darting towards the plush smirk that your soft lips create. If it’s even possible, he thinks you look even more heavenly. He’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him. 
Little does he know that for you, he’s taken that same effect. You’ve grown so accustomed to everyone here that a new face has captured your attention. And you felt him staring at you, with a gaze so impassioned that you just about almost lost your footing up there. But you pulled it off real well, attempting to shake off the redirection in the form of a dramatic bounce of your tits.
It perplexes you. A man making you that nervous? Up until late, it’s become rather unheard of. You want to know this man and see for yourself what his energy is all about.
Eddie finds himself fixing his appearance when he notices your legs striding over, clearing his throat as his palm slides over the stubble that he had been trying to grow. 
“You know it’s kinda rude to stare the way that you do,” you remark.
“How so?” Eddie challenges. “Everyone else is doing it. What makes me different from everybody?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” you smile at him.
Eddie shifts his weight onto the counter, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking another gulp. His eyes dart everywhere -- the metal buckle of your belt, the skin that was shiny with dried sweat, your hands that tap at the sticky countertop of the bar, the way your lips wrap around the tip of your bottle and the liquid that slips out and down your chin that he greedily wanted to tongue away. 
“Funny,” you observe. “I’m here every Saturday and I’ve never once seen your face.”
He thinks he’s looking over at an angel, really, heart beating faster when he realizes it’s him that you’d made an effort to come up to. Made an effort to get to know.
“Interesting that you saw me.”
“I see everything from up there. And you’re a newcomer, I can tell. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the best way.”
You invite him into your energy, closing up the distance between the two of you with a graceful stride in his direction.
“You were amazing,” Eddie says to you. “Really know how to put on a show, cowgirl.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie insists. “Spotlight loves you. Killer crowd engagement as well.”
“You a performer too?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
“Mmm, I don’t know…” you sigh dreamily. “Just a fellow performer lookin’ for some tips and pointers.”
Not much needs to be said to know that you two ache for each other, judging by how the intimate dive bar grows non-existent for as long as you two are captured in the forcefield of each other. Eddie thinks that there would be absolutely nothing better than giving you some pointers, his hand leaving the bottle, some of the liquid sloshing around the precipitating glass, heart pounding in his ears as he nods quickly. One rowdy night wouldn’t hurt anybody, he thinks to himself. And it’s very apparent that, the stunner that is you, wants take him for a spin.
“So what do you say, cowboy?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t we ride off into the sunset, just you and me?”
dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @saradika @mikeykuns
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lovingmattysposts · 30 days
Text
Quiet 11
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P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10
pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo
summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk
warnings: mentions of being skinny/not eating, mentions of a drunk parent, fighting
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The worst part about hanging out with Matt was when I had to go home. I hated going home. Even with Matt being mad at me, it distracted me from what was going on at home. It gave me something else to worry about.
I shouldn't have to worry about it. I shouldn't have to worry about food on the table or if my dad would be living and breathing when I walked through the door. Everyday. And I was too scared to say anything.
I bent down and picked up Sparkle who was waiting at the front door for me like she always does. I keep her outside when I leave so my dad wouldn't know i'm now homing a cat. I tugged her to my chest as I pushed the door open. Immediately relief washing over me from her comfort.
My dad was already walking towards me.
" 'M going out" He mumbled as he placed his hand against the door frame. I just looked up at him. His eyes wobbled, like he was looking through me. My heart clenched and I held Sparkle closer.
"Fuck is that a cat?" He mumbled looking down at me. I looked down at the cat before placing her on the ground. "Yeah, it was outside and--"
"I don't want a fucking cat in my house Y/n. Get rid of it" He snapped down at me as he reached for the door handle. I blinked at him and my mouth spoke before my mind could catch up.
"Where are you going? It's late, dad" I mumbled. He turned and looked back at me as he opened the door. "I'm going out" He didn't clarify. I swallowed and looked down at Sparkle who looked up at me.
"Are you safe to go out? I-I don't think--"
"There's a bar just down the street i'll be f-fine" He grumbled. I swallowed and looked down at my feet.
"Is the job search going anywhere? I can help you look---"
"I don't need you to question me. I'm your father, you do not question me" He snapped making me close my eyes and step back. Silence came between us. I nodded and wrapped my arm around myself as I felt Sparkle rub against my leg.
I don’t know why I thought I should ask. My mouth always getting me into trouble.
"Did you pick up groceries?" I whispered. He sighed and looked down at Sparkle.
"I want that cat gone before I get back" He snapped looking down at the cat. I looked down at Sparkle. "Dad" I breathed feeling my heart clench. "I mean it Y/n" He stared down at me.
"Dad, I'm hungry" I whispered looking at him as my hands came down my arms. He blinked at me before taking in a breath.
"I'm going to the store tomorrow Y/n. There's something I need to take care of tonight I-I got people waiting on me" He shook his head. I nodded and looked down.
"Okay" I breathed thinking it was best not to push it, at least not right now. He sighed before he slammed the door. I looked down at Sparkle who looked up at me. I leaned against the cabnits before running my hand down her back.
"I'm sorry Sparkle. I can't keep you" I whispered at her. She just looked up at me. I sighed before laying my head against my knees.
When everything starts to feel okay again. There's another reminder waiting that it isn't, okay.
I stood up before picking up Sparkle and setting her back outside. She tilted her head in confusion. I stared down at the small kitten and her head went towards the bowl of water I’d left out for her.
It was empty.
I sighed before I swallowed and looked off towards the street.
-
I pushed the door open before Nick looked up at me. I smiled and set down his phone.
"Hey, Y/n" He sat up and smiled at me. The smile already making my heart pound in the worst way possible. I swallowed as I walked up and leaned against the counter to look at him.
"Come to steal something again?" He chuckled. I felt my stomach twist, and I didn't smile as I looked at him. His smiled altered from my lack of reaction as he stared back at me.
I felt horrible.
"You did?" He mumbled quieter. I sighed and hung my head and I tugged on my sweatshirt uncomfortably.
"Listen--I just need some cat food okay? I don't have any and I can't afford it. There’s this cat she’s—starving." I whispered as I looked down avoiding his eyes.
Silence came between and it let the feeling sink in of how horrible and humiliating this genuinely felt.
Nick stared at me blankly for a second before letting out a breath. I wanted to cry. To burst out into tears pathtically. But I couldn't get the look Sparkle gave me as I shut the door. She was starving. She was probably as hungry as I was.
No living thing deserved to be hungry.
"You'll steal food for a cat but not yourself?" He sighed. I didn't respond as I tucked my hands into my sweatshirt. I swallowed as he waited for an answer.
"I wouldn't do this if I wasn't desperate" I whispered as tears lined my eyes. Nick blinked at me and let out a breath. He sat up from the counter he was sitting behind and turned away.
"I'm going on break for about 10 minutes" He annoucned to me. Only then, did I look up at him. He glanced back at me.
"Please--" I spoke. He paused. "--don't tell Matt about this" I shook my head. The thought of the look on his face was enough to make me want to puke. Nick pursed his lips as he studied me. He looked down before speaking again.
"In the back--" He looked up. "There are some pre-made meals" He motioned to the back wall. "I won't say anything about this if you take something for yourself too" He breathed, his eyes scanning over my body. I felt the need to cover up.
I just nodded and then he gave me once last look before walking into the back of the store. I let out a breath as I walked down the aisles feeling sick to my stomach.
I found the cat food before grabbing as many cans as I could before shoving them into the pockets of my sweatshirt. I shoved in almost a weeks worth before I walked down where Nick pointed.
My eyes scanned the shelves before I picked up the first meal that seemed appetizing and put it under my sweatshirt, holding it to my body.
I felt my heart beat out of my chest as I walked towards the front doors of the stores. I hated doing this. I absolutely hated it.
It made me feel dirty. Like the scum of the earth. Like a dirty thief. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. I guess that’s what I was.
The doors were in sight before someone walked through making me pause.
He looked up at me his eyebrows furrowing.
"Y/n?"
I froze my eyes widening. Chris walked towards me and I stood frozen. "What are you doing here?" He asked slightly glaring at me. I looked down avoiding his eyes.
"Just....walking around. I don't know" Lame excuse, but I was nervous. I didn’t know what else to say. He stared at me and I glanced up at him.
"What are you doing?" I fired back. He looked off towards the counter.
"I visit Nick sometimes when I'm bored" He pointed off to where Nick is normally perched. I looked off and nodded. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Didn't you just leave my house?" He asked staring down at me.
"Yeah I just---came to look around" I mumbled shifting on my feet. He walked up to me and I looked up at him.
"You're not a good liar" He said staring down at me. My face lost color. "Matt sees it too, he just doesn't say anything about it--but he can see it" He stated. “—When you lie” He spoke. I looked off and bit down on my lip.
"You know Chris" I whispered. "You really can't make me feel more like shit, than I already make myself feel.” I said staring up at him. His eyes softened and I shook my head before pushing away from him and walking out the doors of the store.
-
I leaned down and opened up a can before placing it in front of Sparkle. Her eyes wideneded and she immediatly went to devour it. I sighed as I leaned against my door and put my hand behind her ears. I closed my eyes as I felt tears start to run down my cheeks.
-
I let out a small half-laugh as I pushed the notebook back towards Matt. He smiled and added a small little hat to the figure I attempted to draw. It was suppose to be a cow but it came out looking more like a donkey.
I smiled over at him as he detailed in the hat, making my cow-donkey looking like shit. He pushed the notebook back over to me.
I sighed and I tapped my pencil against the page.
"Hey"
I looked up as Jake sat down next to me. I felt Matt stiffen beside me. I looked over as Nadia and Lacey sat down across from us. I looked up at Matt who seemed to have gone frozen, staring at them.
I closed my eyes mentally preparing for the damage.
"H-Hey what are you doing?" I whispered since we were in the library. He smiled and he wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me into him.
"What? I can't come say hi to you?"
And he kissed me.
Right in front of Matt. I froze as he pulled back. I didn't dare to look over at Matt's reaction. I let out a breath and looked down at the table trying to not show how much that shook me.
"No you can" I shook my head staring down at the notebook, not wanting to dissmiss him. Nadia leaned forward.
"You picked out what you're wearing on Friday?" She asked smiling at me. I subconsciously glanced over at Matt who watched me uncomfortably.
"N-No not yet" I shook my head staring down at the page as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. I felt Matt's gaze and I had a feeling he was going to bolt any second.
"What? You probably have a million things to wear" She said raising her eyesbrows.
"Yeah she's stick thin, she can probably wear anything" Lacey mumbled. I looked up at her and felt it like a shot to the gut. Matt shifted next to me and he fixed his eyes on Lacey.
"I just haven't looked yet" I mumbled as I picked up my pencil.
"Did you ask....him?" Jake leaned forward and looked at Matt. Matt turned to him and I looked between them. "No--I" I breathed. Lacey leaned forward.
"Friday. Jake's house. Party. You in quiet boy or not?" Lacey tilted her head at him. I realized how rude the words sounded coming from her lips. Quiet boy. A diss. To his face.
Matt opened his mouth before closing it and then just shrugged.
"He'll--think about it" I placed my hand on his shoulder. Lacey glanced over to me. "Do you always speak for him?" She asked raising her eyebrows. Matt looked down, defeat filing his face.
"No"
"Yeah whatever, kid doesn't talk. Listen, come to my car after the game tonight okay?" Jake shifted his attention to me as he stood up. I looked up at him.
"I--um okay" I breathed nodding. He smiled before leaning down and pressing his lips to my cheek and walking off, Nadia and Lacey following him.
"Please, text me what you're wearing" Nadia breathed looking down at me. I nodded up at her before she walked off with them.
I let go of a breath I was holding and I looked down at the page, but my pencil was frozen against the page.
Matt looked down at me. I closed my eyes.
"I'm sorry.....that they were rude" I swallowed not looking up at him, feeling as if those comments were my fault.
I knew it probably didn't feel good to be pointed out as being the kid who didn't speak more than once in a singular conversation. He smacked his lips and took in a breath.
He picked up his pen and wrote in my line of vision.
I stared at the page.
I didn't like the fact they commented on your weight.
I looked up at him and he stared at me, like he wasn't joking. I gave a sad smile and looked down at the words. Out of everything thrown at him in that conversation, Lacey's comment on my weight it was what stuck with him.
I shook my head as I smiled. I leaned over and leaned my head against his shoulder as I reached over and started to draw a bunny coming over the hat that was on the donkey-cow. He smiled as he watched me.
-
I didn't push Matt on the hockey game tonight after he said no. He didn't seem in the mood to be pushed today. It was a quick no and discomfort filled his face. That was that.
So I decided to go alone. Soon after I got to the rink, I realized why.
We were playing Sommervile. I froze when I saw Chris and Nick with "Sturniolo" plastered across their backs. Matt probably didn't want to watch his old team skate without him. He didn't want to be recongized.
I felt my stomach tug from the thought of Matt being home alone right now. I looked off towards the ice before seeing Jake. He smiled before skating to the side of the ice. I smiled and walked up to him.
"You made it" He smiled. I nodded and smiled. I looked behind him seeing Chris looking over at me, speaking with Nick, causing Nick to also look in my direction. I swallowed and directed my attention back to Jake.
"I hope you win" I smiled leaning on my arm. He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, well that's the goal" He smiled.
"Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you today with the comment about Mark--"
"Matt" I stared. He blinked. "Fuck--right. I'm sorry. I knew it didn't sit right with you. I shouldn't have said it" He shook his head. I sighed and nodded.
"It's okay, just....don't pry with him" I mumbled. He nodded and gripped his stick. “Okay” he breathed. And that was that.
He leaned forward before pressing his lips to mine. My eyes went wide. Still getting used to it.
"Come over after the game" He mumbled an inch from my face. I smiled and looked down.
"I'll think about it" I smiled.
"Andrews!"
He turned. "Fuck, I gotta go--" He pointed behind him. I nodded and waved him off before he skated off towards the rest of his team. I wrapped my arms over myself as I made my way to the bleachers so I could watch.
I sighed as I sat down and they started to skate. I watched as they fought for the puck. Over and over, slamming each other into the ice. I forced back a yawn. I wouldn't have come if I hadn't promised Jake.
I still think hockey is quite boring. I glanced over to the empty seat next to me. It was more fun when Matt came with me. I didn’t like sitting alone.
I watched as Nick and Chris skated. They were good. It made me wonder if Matt was as good as they are, if not better. I smiled to myself, but it fell when I realized why he stopped playing. I sighed and looked back up at the game.
I saw as Chris glanced up to me. I stared back at him. He held my gaze for a second before he looked back towards the game. I didn't have a good feeling in my stomach. I watched him as he started to skate.
Jake pushed one of the Sommervile players to take the puck. One second he was skating, the next he was slammed so harshly onto the ground--the entire bleachers full of people gasped.
The whistle blew.
I stood from the hit. It was harsh. Jake was against the ice, unable to get up. I pressed my hand to my chest as I watched him, my heart beating out of my chest. Nick reached over and pulled Chris's shoulder. Only then did I realized that Chris took that blow to Jake.
And it was intentional.
The ref’s shoved Chris back, yelling at him something I couldn't understand. Chris looked back up at me and I just looked at him, my mouth parted in shock. He turned back before he skated off the ice completely, ignoring the ref and his coach just to take the penalty.
I looked at Jake who was already receiving medical attention. He groaned against the ground. I clenched my jaw as I watched the door Chris had just walked through. I took in a breath as I rushed off the bleachers.
-
"Chris!"
"What?" He snapped turning around with his bag over his shoulder as he walked through the parking lot. I glared at him shaking my head as I approached him.
"What the fuck was that?" I screamed at him. He clenched his jaw as he looked away. I stopped in front of him. "You could have killed him!" I screamed. Chris looked down at me, he stepped forward making me stumbled back.
"He's fucking fine Y/n. I could have done alot more damage" He spoke harshly. I took in a breath. "I’m so sick and tired of you always giving me such--" I started as I grew more and more angry.
"Do you know Nick lost his job because of you?"
I froze as I looked up at Chris. He looked anything but sorry. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"What-"
"His boss noticed the inventory didn't match the money in the register and he watched the security tapes. He saw him let you steal and he fired him. He had to pay back what you stole" He spat down at me.
Guilt rose in my stomach and I looked down at my feet, swallowing I didn't know--"
"Of course you didn't know Y/n. You only ever think about yourself" He shook his head. I felt my heart clench at the words. I shook my head. "
That's—That’s not true Chris" I whispered as tears lined my eyes. He scoffed.
"At least I don't go around fucking assulting people for no reason!" I spat back, growing angry again. He rolled his eyes. "At least i'm not a fucking thief" He snapped back. I glared at him.
"Why? What possessed you to do that? What did Jake do to you?" I asked throwing my arms up, my ears basically fuming. I had enough of his sly remarks, his bad attitude, and his utter rudeness.
I was about to explode
"I did what Matt couldn't" He breathed looking down at me. I dropped my arms and blinked at him. He stared down at me with a hard glare. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"What are you talking about?" I breathed shaking my head. He let out a breath and licked his lips.
"Do you know what he said to me when he came home the other day?" Chris spoke harshly. I just watched him as he spoke.
"He said, Maybe If I was like him--" He pointed towards the gym we just exited. I knew he was talking about Jake. "Maybe if I was like him she would--"
"Chris"
We both turned. Nick stomped towards us. I felt the guilt rise in me again as he looked at me. He looked back at Chris.
"What the fuck man? You costed us the game" He shook his head. Chris looked down in silence.
"Nick" I breathed. He looked over at me. I shook my head. "Nick, I'm so sorry" I whispered. Nick looked over at Chris and then looked back at me.
"It's fine, Y/n. It's not that big of a deal" He mumbled as he walked up to Chris.
"No it actually is, try our only source of income" Chris glared down at me. Nick pushed him.
"You can get a job you hateful fuck" Nick snapped at his brother, his aggression clearly built up from the loss of the game.
"Our parent’s money is enough, I had the job for extra cash. It's fine" Nick shook his head. I felt my stomach twist. I stepped forward.
"I'll pay you back, I swear" I swallowed shaking my head. Nick sighed and closed his eyes. "I said it was fine Y/n. Just leave it alone” He mumbled as he grabbed Chris's arm and drug him towards the car.
Neither of them looked back at me as I stood there in the parking lot, alone.
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makelemonade · 10 days
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how people find out you’re dating them
pt2; cyno, diluc, thoma, neuvillette
SUGGESTIVE
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Cyno
He probably keeps it a secret for 2 weeks until Candace, Alhaitham and Tighnari sniff it out- literally. But in the end it’s not them who find out it’s you.
His jokes change.
Like, insanely.
There’s no more horrible puns- well, there are sometimes, but his humour starts to change to multiple different types of jokes and Candace is the first to notice.
She has been at his side for YEARS protecting the desert so when she actually laughs at his joke for the first time her heart literally drops from shock because did she actually just laugh!!?!?! At CYNO’S JOKE?!
She brings it up with Alhaitham and Tighnari and even they are surprised and of course because they’re nosy people, they decide to figure it out. 
Alhaitham keeps an eye on Cyno whenever he’s in the Akademiya for work. He noticed the way Cyno is always in a rush which before he never was. It’s almost like Cyno has something to do, he thinks.
That’s when he realizes and brings up the idea to them that what if cyno is seeing someone? Tighnari feels a little betrayed knowing they are best friends and that cyno tells him everything but he does slightly agree with the theory. 
He agrees with the theory once he smells expensive products on cyno. Cyno used to never once care about his hair or how nice he smelled given the fact he’s in the desert a lot but he smells a lotion on him one day and realizes that 100% Cyno is seeing someone.
They just have no idea who.
One day they’re talking about it in Alhaitham’s office within the Akademiya, and Nahida comes in one day.
“What are you all talking about?” She asks innocently, eyes peering up at all of them as she hops on Alhaitham’s desk to sit on. 
“We think cyno is seeing someone.” Alhaitham answered.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh right! Y/N!”
“We don’t kno- wait what?” Candace stares at her shocked.
Nahida just giggled. “He dreams about her a lot.”
They all immediately run out of the office and nahida starts to think maybe she shouldn’t have revealed that. 
Diluc
kaeya.
For months now people have noticed that Diluc was taking less time at the bar and was always rushing to get home. He was more talkative and he was even fighting less with Kaeya.
It creeped Kaeya out if we’re being honest here.
So one night you’re hanging out with Kaeya and Venti at the bar while Diluc is working and it’s a pleasant night for you all! 
Venti was singing, strumming the lyre! Kaeya was making jokes and Diluc was laughing at them! It was- wait what? 
Kaeya doesn’t realize until later that night that Diluc laughed at one of his jokes. 
At the end of the night you tell the others you’re going to stay and help Diluc clean up since Charles was off for the night and they pay no attention to it. Kaeya doesn’t either- the only thing he wants is answers.
So one hour after closing, Kaeya bursts into the bar thinking you’d finished helping up Diluc and you were already gone.
But instead he found you bent over the bar, skirt PUSHED up and Diluc right behind you and Kaeya immediately turns back around, knowing his question was already answered.
Of course he immediately tells venti, but not what he saw. He does not want anyone knowing he ever witnessed that even if it was for 0.5 seconds.
Thoma
He starts to deny his help whenever people in the city ask him for something and it’s so shocking that it reaches Ayato through gossip and he HAS to talk to Ayaka about it.
Thoma is an incredible and amazing man; he’s always willing to help out anyone and everyone at every second so of course it’s a shock when he starts denying and is rushing home.
“Is something wrong with him? Is he upset? Is he sick?!” Ayaka has never seen Ayato panic like this about his best friend.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Ayaka giggled. “Maybe he’s just realized that his kindness is taken much advantage of. Personally I think it’s great.” 
“Or he has someone to return home to every night.” 
Both the siblings yelped and their swords were out in an instant, pointing at whoever snuck into their conversation.
Miko was unphased, putting both her hands on the swords and lowering them. “Apologies, it wasn’t my intention to sneak up but it was surely my intention to eavesdrop.” She grinned.
The weapons were away in an instant and Ayaka started to question. “What do you mean someone to come home to?”
“Have you not noticed his need to rush his duties everyday?” Miko asked, and giggled when both the siblings looked at each other with a “no I have not” face. “Wow; I hardly ever see him and even I know of his current actions! Well, if you two are really so keen on trying to figure out what’s ‘wrong’ with him; he has a lover. A secret one, at that, and it seems as if he just really wants to spend the night with them after a long day of work. I’d assume his lover is Y/N, the one who works for me. You have noticed his frequent trips to the shrine, haven’t you?”
The two siblings just stared at each other in shock before they were both running off in different directions; Ayato to find out any information on who you were and Ayaka running to find Thoma to demand answers.
In truth, Miko just saw the two of you kissing on your break in a hidden spot and you both still had no idea she had seen. 
Neuvillette
THOSE DAMN MELUSINES. 
They’re adorable; the cutest little things ever and it’s so cute how he takes care of them but you can never trust them with a secret because they will pass it on to EVERYONE. 
It’s when they do their usual rotations within the buildings; Guard the doors.
In full honesty it was yours and his fault for being, well, quite loud that even though his desk was far from the doors, the Melusine’s could still hear everything and it was insanely embarrassing but they were immediately talking about it and were shocked when you walked out of his office 2 hours later, pretending it was some random meeting.
The next day, one of them- Sigewinne- comes up to him in his office and he gives her a gentle smile. “Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette!”
“Good morning, Sigewinne. Would you like anything?” He opened one of his drawers which was full of mélusine-appropriate snacks.
Sigewinne shook her head. “No thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette! Thank you for offering! We were wondering if Mademoiselle Y/N was coming today?”
He looked at them confused. “Uhm, I believe she is for another meeting in a few hours. Why?”
“Just so then we’ll know when to give you two privacy, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sigewinne skips away and it takes a few seconds for him to fully process what she meant and becomes mortified.
You’re insanely confused when all the melusines greet you and say hi to you and ask if you want anything when you come in. 
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