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inupibaldspot · 3 months

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At him, For him

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover. ALSO ART CRDIT

Gojo remembers the first day he saw you.

His jaws fell open slightly as his eyes widened as his eyes drop on a figure beside his best-friend. Your eyes were on the ground fluttering nervously before you raised your eyes which gave him a clear look of your face. God. You were ethereal.

Shoko let’s out a whistle beside him, as she picked up a piece of fries and popped it in her mouth reminding him that they were on their college cafeteria. “That y/n?”

“Yup…” Geto proclaimed proudly, while you gave them a nervous smile.

Shoko laughs out. “Isn’t she pretty? That why you so obedient lately?”

Gojo gulps when Geto pulls you closer to him by your waist, as he bends slightly nuzzling his face on your neck as he laughs. “This one is all mine.”

The more often Gojo sees you, the more enchanted he becomes with you, more spell bound. He was kind of scared when he realized what Geto or you might feel about the sensation you evoked in his heart and that he desires you?

Even years later,4 years later to be exact; all a tad bit older and wearing the skin of an adult, you guys were still together—Geto, you, Shoko and Gojo.

Geto

Can you pick up y/n for me

I’m still not done with the prep.

You <Gojo>

Sure thing

Gojo sighs into the air, as he twirls with the help of his heels turning his direction and walks in the opposite direction, putting his phone back in his pocket. But still, the thought that he was going to be beside you , he felt a tug on his lips.

He walks infront of your house as he looks over to the message going from delivered to read. With the sound of the turning of a door knob, Gojo swiftly turns his head to the direction.

“Ta—dah!” You popped up with your hands in air. Gojo’s eyes trail to the way your dressed, styled your hair and face looking so lovely; God, you were so fucking cute. He thought as he covers his face with his hands, hiding his raging smile.

You changed pose smiling at Gojo. “Tell me I look good. Suguru told me to dress pretty today.”

“So— ugly.” Gojo leans in closer his face turned into a mocking manner, he laughed as your face turns into a pout. His heart races as your hands reach out to pull on his cheeks.

“Stop being mean, Satoru—!” You say as pull on his cheeks harder.

Gojo pulls away with placing one hand on your forehead as he pushes you away gently , as his other hand goes over and rubs his cheeks as they continue to walk to the restaurant they were getting together.

“You look beautiful.” He grumbled.

You peer in close, placing a hand on your ear as if that would help you hear louder. “Huh—?!”

Gojo huffs and then turns to you, his face in a beautiful shade of red. “I said you look beautiful.”

“Oh!” You clap your hands together. “I saw you in first year of college but did you know we were in the same high school, Satoru?”

Not even a ‘thank you’ for that ‘you look beautiful’?! Gojo scoffs in disbelief as he shakes his head, trying to focus on your words. “Heh? We did… How did we not see each other?”

“Apparently it’s because you two were in class 4-5 which is the advanced class.” You smile sheepishly at him. “I was in the normal classes.”

Gojo blinks as he smiles at you. “So you were dumb- no! I mean you still are…”

You huff as you look away from him. “I was just thinking how it would have been if we all meet sooner?”

Gojo breathes in. ‘What if I met you sooner than Suguru?’ He holds it in. Not now. Not forever can he ever say that and ruin everything.

“It’s fine isn’t it?” You blink as you watch Gojo walk forward, finally with a serious expression on him as he continues. “We met anyways and I’m grateful for it everyday.”

You smile, a gentle one. At him. For him.

“I wish you nothing but the best, days as lovely as you are for the rest of your life…” He says. This is where Gojo completely loses focus as he leans into you, so close as his lips are on your cheeks; his hands are behind his back, intertwined trying to control himself to not bring his hands up to your face.

He pulls away as you had a surprised look on your face , as your bring your hands up to cup your face.

“Thanks, Satoru!” You smile widely at him.

Gojo laughs to himself as he sees you felt nothing for that kiss; it was a simple one full of goodwill between friends to you. He laughs as he tilts his head infront of him. “That’s the restaurant Suguru is waiting in. Get in already.” He says as you nod, walking forward.

As he was about to take a step into the room he freezes as he puts on a mask, a mask he always wore when he was around you— a friend who wants nothing but the best for them. He chuckled and shook his head, still uncertain about how to behave despite being in this same shoes for years.

“y/n, I know we are still young but I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I want to marry-“

Gojo almost wants to close his ears as he dreads your answer.

·:*¨༺ Part 2 ༻¨*:·

Okay, but I see Gojo being in love with Geto’s girl not cus he is a home wrecker or something but genuinely the person he feel in love with HAD to be his best friends girl— ugh! Poor Baby!

Also— I want to write an AU where Gojo time travels back and he meets you in high school before Suguru lemme know if it’s a good idea ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) UPDATE : I DID IT

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mothwingwritings · 3 months

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BTD/TPOF Valentine's Gifts To You~<3

Look I know Valentine’s was days ago but it’s one of my favorite holidays and I have no chill, so you all have to deal with the residual now. (*-`ω´- )人

THAT BEING SAID- here's a little 'what kinds of gifts/experiences the Boyfriend To Death/The Price Of Flesh crew would lavish you with on Valentine's day' imagine, let’s gooo!!! I hope you all enjoy!

18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

Warnings: Abuse, implied past kidnapping, reader getting hurt, torture, noncon, dubcon, (please forgive the pun but) horrible people taking a stab at an ounce of ‘affection’ and mostly just making things more dreadful for you.

I hope you all enjoy! ˘³˘

✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

Ren🦊- Will actually get you a sweet gift, something that he put time and thought into. Chocolates, a stuffed animal, a cute outfit, a figure of your favorite game/anime character that you have been eying, maybe even all of the above if he has the budget (honestly probably all of the above even if he doesn’t have the budget). He’ll present it really cutely too, like rose petal’s littering the ground leading you to the room where all the gifts are neatly displayed, giving a little ‘tah-dah!’ as soon as you discover them. He gets really excited watching you open them, explaining his reasoning behind each and every item he purchased/made you.

“All the chocolates in store looked boring, so I decided to make you some! I added your favorite ingredients, so I hope you like them!”

“This stuffed fox was too cute to leave behind and, well… I was hoping maybe it would sort of remind you of me? Anyway, I couldn’t leave the store without him! He belongs snuggled in your arms, just like I do!”

Just be mindful that in return he’s probably gonna put on a ‘cute romance anime’ of his choosing to end the night and that ‘cute romance anime’ is 100% just going to be hentai. From there, one thing will lead to another and he’ll make sure he gets a nice Valentine’s gift too. :) Oh, and if you don't like any of the gifts... It's best just to keep it to yourself. He'd hate to have to ruin the nice time you are having on this great holiday because you are being ungrateful.

➽───────────────❥

Lawrence🪴- Flowers is a no brainer, but he doesn’t want to give you something that’s too cliché or that you’ll just throw in a vase to watch slowly die. After mulling it over he decides to give you something with a little more meaning-a plant from his collection that he planted and grew himself. He would most likely pick something like an aglaonema (its valentine colored, right?) or some kind of succulent because they are easier to take care of. He’s a little worried that you are gonna find such a gift weird or see it as a hassle, that no matter how little maintenance the plant takes you’ll just let it end up dying regardless. But he supposes if anything this will be a good test of your bond-will you cherish and nurture the gift he gives you, or will you discard it and let it wither? Don’t make the wrong choice here, it would break his heart. (And your life honestly depends on it.)

➽───────────────❥

Strade🔪- You were dreading what kind of ‘present’ this man would concoct for you on Valentine’s day, but to your complete surprise he actually prepares something shockingly thoughtful for you. He’s set up a nice little homemade dinner for the two of you in the living room, complete with mood lighting (you hoped he didn’t have any surprise uses for the candles that burned around you), nice dishes and silverware (a rare luxury, considering how he usually makes you eat your food) and some wild flowers he had picked from out in the yard (did they have thorns? Were you gonna find that out the hard way?). The dinner itself is one of your favorite meals, and while it was maybe a tad bit overcooked and plated sloppily, it still tasted incredibly good. The catch? Well, I mean you have to have some kind of entertainment while you eat, right? Good thing Strade has a plethora of ‘home videos’ on deck to enjoy with you while you have your lovely little feast. Maybe watching them will spark something between you two, it’s certainly going to put him in the mood to reenact them with you. It’s Valentine’s Day afterall, why not have a little fun? <3

➽───────────────❥

Celia👩‍💼- It really just depends on her mood or what is happening the day of. You may end up getting something nice, a little reward from her for being such a good and obedient pet. She’ll gift you something thoughtful and sweet, like a nice piece of jewelry, expensive chocolate, or finely aged wine that costs more than you make in an entire month. She’ll be relaxed and pleased as she watches you enjoy her gift, taking satisfaction in how easy it was for her to delight you. On the other hand, if she is in a horrible mood or (god forbid) was forced to spend the holiday with her husband, the only thing you are going to be receiving is the brunt of her frustrations. If he bought her chocolates she’d force you to eat them all in one go, prying your mouth open to shove them in herself if you refuse to do it on your own, cramming them in until you nearly choke. If he bought her flowers she’d flog you with the bouquet, rose thorns tearing into your flesh until you were left in a pile of petals and your own blood, body littered with lacerations and angry red welts. Whatever half assed gift she was given or horrible date she was put through, has now become your problem as she uses you as an outlet for her resentment. And for the final celebratory Valentine’s act, she’d use you however she saw fit to get off (because she sure as hell isn’t getting any pleasure anywhere else tonight). Mine as well make the most of her time with her little sweetheart before she’s forced to go back and face whatever is waiting for her back home. You understand, right honey?

➽───────────────❥

Derek🦂- Honestly he forgets it’s Valentine’s Day, but it really doesn’t matter. He wasn’t going to go out of his way to get you anything or do anything for you anyway. If anything, he’d buy something for himself that he can either use on you or force you into for his own personal amusement. Some kind of constricting, demeaning latex gimp suit, or maybe a new whip he can assault you with. The more it hurts or humiliates you the better, because nothing brings him more pleasure than watching you suffer and squirm. Regardless of if he remembers the holiday or not, he’ll probably just spend the day mocking, assaulting, and/or torturing you anyway-once he recognizes the date, he may even go a little harder than usual as a treat to himself. What are you gonna do, cry because your ‘Valentine’ is being mean to you? Hearing you beg, curse, moan, and scream in agony over all that he’s putting you through only makes it better, sweetheart. Like music to his ears! Even though it’s far from your intention, you are the best Valentine he’s ever had and though he won’t admit it, he’s thankful to you for that. Then again, maybe the holiday is just making him feel particularly sappy… Has he ever told you how pretty your tear stained face looks when you are choking on his dick, struggling to breathe as he forces himself down your throat? He’ll have to take a picture to show you next time.

➽───────────────❥

Mason🌲- He’s not very well versed with the ‘typical’ things people want or do for Valentine’s Day, and quite honestly, he finds it all rather obnoxious. To him it’s just some big show, a way for corporations to profit off people’s affections and sex drives to get them to spend money on cheap tokens of affection. Flower bouquets? They’ll just die. Stuffed animals? There’s no point to them. Jewelry? Useless baubles. No, the TRUE way to show your love for someone is through an EXPERIENCE. And what better experience is there then the thrill of nature? Maybe that makes him seem like a one trick pony- he did first meet you by purchasing you for his hunt, after all. But things were different now, you have proven yourself to him, proven that you have the know-how to survive out in the wilds. Now that you mastered it, you can truly enjoy it. He can tell you still didn’t really trust him (and honestly he isn’t sure you ever truly will) but he has faith you’ll eventually come around to this new way of life with him. He loves taking you out hunting and camping, the excitement he feels stalking his prey, the sense of purpose and connection he experiences living off of nature’s bounty, he’s found its much more enjoyable with you by his side. He hopes you feel it too- the buzz coursing through the air as he finally corners his quarry, how rousing it is when you land the final blow and get to drag your prize back home. He makes you watch as he skins and cleans them, finding importance in the act. You need to witness him doing his craft, learn from him, and really understand that you’re relying on him for your survival. Afterall it’s just the two of you out here now, it’s better to get used to it sooner rather than later. Come on, it’s time you took part in helping him prepare his slaughter. After you are done he’ll use the meat to cook you something nice, or prepare you some jerky so you’ll have something to snack on. This lifestyle is his ongoing gift to you, darlin’. Happy Valentine’s Day. ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

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delirious-donna · 1 month

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A Kiss But At What Cost? [Part Seven]

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

chapter summary: The time calls for a movie night and one you’ll be sure to rope Kento into. A good old-fashioned slasher movie sounds just right, but how will the end of the night go once you’re all spooked out?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, two oblivious idiots, yet more emotions, bad communication, mentions of horror movies and tropes, if you can tell me what the movie at the end is you get a gold star

Part Six | Series Masterlist | Part Eight

Popcorn? Check. Cozy blanket? Acquired.

“Hm…” You hummed quietly, turning on the spot in the living room. The lights were set low, the thickest of the blankets from the basket in the corner ready for you to crawl beneath for your movie night, but something was missing.

A drink, of course.

Padding back into the kitchen, you bent your head to investigate the contents of the fridge, debating on a Diet Coke or a beer. The noise of someone clearing their throat made you jump, bumping your head into the door of the fridge in the action of whirling around.

“Ouch!”

Kento winced before quickly schooling his features into neutrality. You turned with a frown etched on your brow, and he couldn’t blame you for it this time. Moving forward, he stood by your side to reach inside and a grab out a bottle of beer, popping the top easily.

Your scowl deepened, more annoyed at the flutter in your stomach at his ease of opening the beer without even looking at the damn thing. “Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d still be so jumpy this far into our little arrangement.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a quick sip, eyes moving to the ceiling which presented you with the open opportunity to watch whilst his throat worked to swallow the frothy liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

A thought leapt from the recesses of your brain, and your pout turned into a wicked smile before he could blink. How would mr ‘stick-in-the-mud’ cope with a couple of scary movies? It would be beyond hilarious if he turned out to be a scaredy cat given his imposing stature and presence, and the chance to find out was too delicious to pass up.

“Got plans this evening?” you asked with an expression you hoped looked nonchalant. Before he could answer, you pulled out a can of Diet Coke and cracked open the ring pull with a low hiss.

“None to speak of. Why?”

Your hand linked through his arm with a wide grin, pulling him away from the kitchen to the cozy little nook you’d crafted for your movie spree. You gestured towards it with a theatrical “ta dah” and glanced up to meet eyes of hazel alight with confusion and a hint of intrigue, if you weren’t much mistaken.

“What’s this? You’ve made a… nest on my couch,” Kento guessed, scanning the bowl of popcorn and bar of unopened chocolate resting on the faraway arm. He wasn’t so stupid not to realise that this was clearly a movie night, but he was doing his damnedest not to think too much about your hand curled around his bicep. One wrong move and you might take that touch away, and he didn’t want that, not yet.

“Wow. Don’t tell me you didn’t watch movies with Karin growing up, because I know it’ll be a lie. That girl is more of a film buff than I am, no way you escaped that.”

Kento scoffed. “You’re correct. I did not escape, though there were many times I sorely wish I had. If I have to watch When Harry met Sally one more time, I might do something drastic,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Not a fan of romcoms, Nanami?”

“I didn’t say that, and it’s Kento, stop changing it back. There are a few that I can…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Tolerate, I guess.”

Your eyebrows rose in clear curiosity. Slipping your hand out of his arm, you rounded the couch and settled next to your snacks to pat the seat next to you in invitation. Kento swallowed, a wash of heat licking up both sides of his neck and he fought the urge to pull at the neck of his sweater.

“I don’t have any romcoms on the menu for tonight, sadly…” You added just to see his eyes narrow and his lips thin in displeasure. “Come join me, please? I’ll even share my popcorn.”

A moment passed where you simply stared at one another, your heart in your throat at the thought of being rejected, but it didn’t come to pass. Kento took another swig of beer and made his way to you, sinking into the couch with a sigh of resignation that didn’t sound genuine at all. You hid your smile behind the can in your hand, twisting to look at him and meeting determined eyes.

Kento crossed an ankle over his knee, settling against the cushions. “I’ll pass on the popcorn, too noisy,” he teased, smirking when you blew a raspberry in his direction. “So, if it’s not lovey-dovey nonsense, what are we watching?”

He should have taken the wide, almost twisted grin as a hint, but once again he was oblivious to your devious ways. What a fool he was. Except, in the long run, you were the one who would have something to worry about…

A piercing scream tore through the sound system, followed immediately by one of your own, although thankfully not as loud. You pulled the blanket to your face, covering your eyes from the gore feast on the screen. It didn’t help that you could hear Kento chuckling by your side. So much for the idea that he might be the one taking the starring role as scream queen… dammit.

The first movie had been a classic, one you had both seen before and it was nice to be able to laugh along with your handsome companion at the overused tropes featured in many of the slasher movies from the eighties and nineties. Groaning almost in sync when the lead female chose to run deeper into the house than take the open door that led outside and booing when the killer miraculously managed to traverse the same distance as the comic relief sidekick without even breaking into a light jog.

It gave you time to indulge in conversation as well as keeping pace with the plot. You shoved him playfully when he refused to indulge your curiosities as to which, in his words, lovey-dovey movies he enjoyed. Not even your best pleading puppy eyes could get him to relent, the curl of his lips so telling of his enjoyment at your frustration.

However, he did share some juicy tidbits about his sister that you were sure to tuck away and use to embarrass Karin at a later date. She more than deserved it given that other than one short and snappy text message, you hadn’t heard from her in all the time you had been staying here. Some friend. The bluster was all feigned when you examined it, and you refused to dig any deeper.

Karin and Kento were so different you would have never guessed they were related, yet you liked them for completely different reasons. You wondered if you would keep in touch once… no, it couldn’t be like that, and you knew it deep down. This was a temporary situation that would be forgotten soon enough, you lied to yourself with a long swallow of your drink. It wasn’t worth ruining the evening by moping. Deciding it was for the best, regardless of what your heart tried to yell, you forced the feelings into a box and refocused on the here and now.

It warmed your heart to watch as Kento slowly relaxed further, his limbs losing the tension from when he first joined you, an arm draped along the back of the couch and his beer balanced on his thigh, hand loose around the glass bottle dripping in condensation. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be, making you nearly choke on your drink several times over when he offered his bitingly sarcastic commentary on the situation on screen. At times you thought his ears even looked a little red, but you couldn’t be sure given the lack of lighting. If it was true, then it was adorable that he got enjoyment from your genuine reactions to his jokes.

With the second movie fast approaching the climax of the horror, you regretted the decision to ramp things up. Most of the movie you had spent tucked tightly beneath the blanket covering your lap, squeaking at every little jump scare and even more so when Kento moved unsuspectedly. All of it was ammunition to the laughter Kento levelled at your expense, and more than once you reached out to smack at his arm with him feigning noises of hurt when you knew very well it was the lightest of touches.

Oh, he was a menace alright.

Kento, not for the first time during your stay, felt like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He watched your bravado disappear in the face of a movie you weren’t familiar with, and tried not to think too deeply when he felt the desire to pull you into the side of his body. It wasn’t worth the headache. His beer was long finished, and his hands felt too empty, fingers twitching against his thigh and pinching at the stitched seam of the couch to distract himself from what he knew would be inappropriate thoughts. He would not sully this evening with his own selfish desires.

You shrieked once more when the villain popped out unexpectedly, however, this time you lunged sideways and buried your face into his arm that lay between you both. He nearly yelped himself, barely holding back the strangle of surprise when your nose rubbed into his bicep and your small fingers curled around his forearm. His heart rested in his throat, glancing down with wide eyes and almost missing when you spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Tell me when this bit is over.”

Tentatively, he lifted his arm and your hold tightened as if he were trying to shake you off. Kento murmured a gruff affirmation and refocused on the TV. You dared to lift your chin, blinking at his unwavering expression fixed straight ahead whilst he settled his arm around your shoulders and gently drew you closer. His jaw clenched, and you nearly backed away despite your heart hammering in your chest from the movie playing, but when his fingertips rubbed gently against your upper arm… it was game over.

You melted into his side, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne surreptitiously and smiling into the soft knit of his sweater at the lingering aroma of coffee that infused his clothes. Clearly, he was a man that ran hot given the output he was currently kicking out and the longer you remained in this position, the less you felt like the blanket was necessary. It was far from unpleasant, in fact, you longed to wrap yourself in his warmth. Who needed a blanket when you could have him instead?

Closing your eyes, you smiled indulgently, knowing it would be hidden from view. This was nice—more than nice—it felt right. Like you belonged here, and you should make up for lost time by refusing to move when he inevitably tried to pry you off.

The moment didn’t come.

At last, when Kento signalled that you could look again, he didn’t make any move to shove you back to your corner of the couch as you had assumed he would. No, instead, he slouched deeper into the seat and rested his cheek atop your head like a boyfriend or a lover might do. It was comfortable, welcoming after all that had transpired in such a short space of time and honestly, you wished you had the courage to fist the front of his sweater and drag him into the desperate kiss you longed to bestow on his lips.

The walls that both you and Kento had built around yourselves were beginning to crumble like sandcastles being washed away by an approaching tide. The water was unstoppable, or so it seemed and the air in the room felt charged with possibilities.

The credits rolled and neither of you made a move. Kento held himself back for fear of something he couldn’t define, and you lacked the courage to be the first to act after the incident in the bar. Two idiots, that’s what you amounted to, and it was endlessly frustrating.

“I guess it’s time for bed,” Kento said, straightening in his seat but still making no effort to untangle you from his chest.

Alarmed, you jerked upwards and shook your head violently. “Oh no no no. There is no way you go straight to bed after horror movies!”

“I don’t plan on staying awake all night if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he countered with a sharp arch of one eyebrow. Your hand remained flush on his thigh now that you weren’t moulded into his body, and he did his best not to notice.

“No,” you pouted, exhaling loudly through your nose. “We watch something funny then go to bed. And you have to stay with me because…”

“… because you’re scared.”

You smacked him dead centre in his chest, rolling your eyes when his chuckle deepened into a rich baritone belly laugh that made your legs tremble. Thank god you were sitting down. “Shuddup.”

There was a part of you that wanted to retreat into his warmth, to make yourself a home in the space beneath his arm and listen to the beat of his heart until you found yourself too tired to resist the pull of sleep, but that was asking rather a lot.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he could read your mind, or if your thoughts were simply so obviously written across your face. Kento lifted the remote with his right hand and waved you towards him with the left. There was something unreadable in his expression, a tightness around the eyes and chiselled jawline. Again, you wondered how much of this he wanted to participate in, but the allure of his offer was too tempting to miss out on.

You resumed your position, legs tucked up and your torso leaning into the strong support of a man you were falling for. Fuck… why did it have to be like this? Closing your eyes for a moment’s reprieve, you resolved to do something about it—anything—because living this way, with these feelings and desires was taking its toll.

“That one,” you piped up when Kento passed over a movie you knew inside out. You convinced yourself that a good laugh would solve all your immediate problems and wriggled into a more comfortable position. The other matter could wait until the morning.

“A fine choice,” he murmured more to himself than anything. A smile returned to his face when the familiar movie of an overzealous police officer deployed to the seemingly pristine British countryside for showing up the city force began to play on the screen.

An hour in and your delightful laughter had stopped. Kento felt the rhythm of your breathing deepen, a swivel of his eyes told him exactly why—you were fast asleep. He gazed at your sleeping face for longer than he realised, his neck stiffening from the awkward position but not caring for the dull ache. Your features were smooth, relaxed in a peaceful slumber. There was no sign of your trepidation following the scary movies and he smiled gratefully.

You were so pretty. The truth of those words cemented into his brain, and he doubted anything could dissuade him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had gazed longingly at a previous girlfriend or lover like he was right now. There was something different about you, and yet so right that he ached to admit it out loud. Ever since the woman in the museum had mistaken you for a couple, offering advice that seemed to be tailor made specifically for his worries, he couldn’t get the idea of opening up out of his head.

His fingers graced the apple of your cheek, stroking your skin delicately like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Your face turned into the soft affection, a long comforting sigh exhaled through slightly parted lips and Kento fell even further. Why couldn’t he have met you under normal circumstances? A memory of your frantic flailing when he surprised you in his bathtub brought humour to his heart rather than the mortification of the day itself. It certainly made for an interesting story…

It took longer than it should for Kento to realise the movie had ended. Black velvet darkness decorated the quiet room, voyeuristic shadows clinging to the walls from the dark light of the blank television screen, still on but with nothing to display. The silent witnesses watched on whilst his heart beat faster and faster, head moving closer to your face until his lips brushed your forehead with heartfelt reverence.

The kiss was momentary, one singular frame in the grand scheme of his life, but to Kento, it felt like the defining moment. His old life, daily routine, the endlessly long hours at work, working out every morning simply to fit the aesthetic he believed to be the most suited to his lifestyle, it all seemed completely meaningless.

He thought of the books that lined the shelves of his office, most still unread. The places he dreamed of visiting—far flung countries with soft white sandy beaches, foreign cities with beautiful architecture to explore and even places closer to home that he never had time to venture to. How much of life was he missing out on? The food he could sample. The interests he could test out to see if any stuck, the people he could make friends with, the woman he could love…

Shit.

You were changing his entire world, and you had no fucking clue. He shouldn’t have kissed you. That realisation burned into him with vigour, the blazing inferno of his self-loathing at taking something that was not freely given, churned his stomach. Should he wake you and admit what he had done? No, it wasn’t fair to you.

Kento manoeuvred himself into a position to reach beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease into his arms and you didn’t even jostle at the movement. His eyes never left your face as you nuzzled into his chest, small fingers holding onto the fine threads of his sweater as if you were scared to lose your place, to lose your security. He wished he could be that for you, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough.

With the utmost care, he placed you into your bed, carefully unpicking your fingers and pressing the sheets into your palm as replacement before tucking them around you. Kento smiled when you murmured something unintelligible in your sleep, turning onto your side and burying your nose into your pillow with a gentle moan that spoke of nothing but comfort and peace. Despite kicking himself for the earlier kiss he had stolen without permission or consent, he found his nose and lips nestled in your hair once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, and he stood to his full height and wished you a pleasant sleep under his breath before closing your door and disappearing behind his own.

He had a lot to think about, some decisions to make that could alter the course of his life and it was likely that not much sleep would come to him this night despite his earlier conviction that he wouldn’t be awake all night.

Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a palm down his weary face until he could catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the strain evident in his features.

“What do I do?”

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

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greycaelum · 7 months

Text

Indulgence Collections 🪷: Touch

Satoru has been sporting his hair longer than usual. He's been so busy he never got the time to drop off his barber shop and get his trim.

"What'cha doing pretty?" Satoru hums from the bathroom sink while he shaved his day-old stubbles, keeping his face flawless. He's wearing a cotton short while unbothered going topless displaying his well-defined muscles.

"Nothing much wanna try something after you're done." You held a small bag and plopped down the couch of your bedroom to wait for your beau.

You heard the running water and him rummaging through the cabinets. He finally emerged from the bathroom with a black shirt on that hangs loosely on his body but didn't hide his damn enticing collarbone.

"What did you wanna do?" Satoru climbs onto the bed but you stop him and you open the bag.

"I got you~ this! ta-dah!" You excitedly presented him with a razor you found while strolling around the shopping district.

Satoru took a few human seconds to understand the meaning behind your words.

"Oh?" A wide grin appears on his lips and takes the razor from your hands. "Are you gonna be my personal barber now?"

You shrug and go to the bathroom to spread out some newspaper on the floor and a chair from your dresser for him to sit on.

"You've been complaining about your hair lately, but you don't go to your barber anyway. So you'll have to make do with me."

Satoru leaned on the doorframe and chuckled as you prepared your make-do salon in the bathroom. True, his nape has been itchy with the amount of thick hair brushing his skin when he removes his blindfold. He doesn't know where you got the guts to try this stuff with him moreover he knows you've never done this before. But he didn't stop you when you pulled him to sit on the stool and put a towel around him.

"Woah, woah, don't start with the razor, Baby." Satoru held your wrist and gave you the scissors you got with the razor. "You have to section my hair first. Like this..." He shows you where his undercut starts. "You cut it like, vertically, okay?"

"O-Okay." You nodded and remembered how his barber did it when you went together to get his haircut. "Like this, right? Is it too short?"

Satoru watches your eyes so focused on his hair that it's too cute to look away from the mirror.

"Cut a little longer... Yeah just like that." Satoru chuckled when you almost cut a thick chunk of his hair and your face went pale. "Awww, you have no reward if I come out bald, Baby."

"Shut up, I'm trying my best here." You huffed and finally finished trimming down his hair. "It looks good?" You look in the mirror and can't help but laugh at how he looks like the teenager he was in 2006 it's just that his jaws are now more pronounced and a screaming masculinity exudes from his large build.

"Mnnn, go get the razor Baby, you do it like this..." Satoru shows you how to shade his side cut and gives you the razor. You look so obedient as he teaches you how to do it that he can't help but pinch your nose making you yelp.

"I should just follow the hairline, right?"

"Kind of, you start here then curve it here." Satoru directs your hands while you mimic his hand gestures before nodding. "Scared?"

You shook your head and held the razor. Slowly you shaved the excess hair from his hairline, the artic locks were soft against your hand as they fell down leaving a clean line on his nape. It feels ticklish as you shave the back of his neck making that undercut you love so much more defined now. There's just something about Satoru's undercut that makes it so irresistible to your touch. A few more runs of the razor and you're finished. Brushing off the hair from his neck you stared at his clean undercut intently.

Satoru looked at the mirror and whistled.

"At this rate, I'm never going to my barber again." Satoru ran his finger through his hair, feeling it a lot lighter as he ruffled it to a mess.

Without warning he swept you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, trudging our of the bathroom to the bedroom.

"Satoru!"

He throws you on the bed and climbs over you, peppering you with ticklish kisses all over your face while you try to shield yourself from the onslaught. Instinctively your hands wrap around his neck making contact with his fresh undercut, tickling your palm. Satoru groaned in pleasure when you ran your fingers up to his neck and down to his spine.

"That feels so good, Baby." He purred, drowning you in his weight with his face pressed between your chest. "Do it again, pleaseee~" He mumbled and wrapped an arm around your waist. "My head feels so light."

He didn't have to tell you twice as you ran your hand over and over until his breathing gradually slowed down.

"Y'know... 'm glad you cut my hair." Satoru opened one eye and looked up at you.

"Why?" You hummed and kissed the tip of his nose making Satoru purr.

"I feel safe when it's you holding my head."

Your eyes softened and nodded. You understand how vulnerable he is regarding his neck up to his head.

"Don't worry that pretty little head of yours and sleep. We got the whole day for ourselves."

Satoru smiles and nuzzles his face even deeper into the valley of your chest and sighs in relief as your fingers thread through his hair, lulling him to a peaceful slumber. The sweet gentle way you tug on the roots of his hair and the scrape of your fingernails against his scalp is the kind of friction his body longs to feel all the time.

"Never let me go, Baby, please..." He murmured between his dreams and your touch.

[@lexiene] happiest birthday dearrrr sunshine~🪷 I hope you like this small gift I prepared~✨🫶🏻

General Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

—Grey,

#[grey writes: indulgence collections🪷]#[grey writes: happiest birthday to my sunshineeee]#[grey writes: coping with 236]#gojo satoru #jkk gojo fluff #jjk gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #greycaelum #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk fluff

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lilyrizzy · 2 months

Text

Inspired by Daniel’s silly EA advert… hope someone enjoys!

It’s been a good day. A lot of the drivers hate this stuff, putting on the tap shoes for the sponsors and asking how high, but Daniel- He kinda likes it.

It’s something he’s good at, turning up to a set and being silly, making people laugh and being told good job Daniel. That’s great, perfect. The words give his chest the kind of buoyancy that has him feeling he could float the whole way home.

They’re a reminder that soon enough, he’ll be back in Melbourne where everyone will say his name with the same tenderness the director has given him, but this time wanting the best for him, instead of from him.

“Amazing job today Daniel,” Robert says again now, clapping a warm hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I think that last part was enough just in the one take. You’re a natural.”

The pleased smile on Daniel’s face spreads easily.

“Cool,” is all he says though, “happy to help, I- Actually mate, I was hoping you’d let me have a little something in return.”

—

“Maxy!” Daniel calls, wrestling with both the front door and the giant box. “Where are you, baby?”

Their house in LA is big, his words bouncing off the walls of the grand entrance hall. Usually, it’s full of friends, sometimes family, but this week for once it’s just the two of them.

“Sofa!” Max shouts back, voice croaky like maybe he’d been napping. He’s probably not left the same spot Daniel left him in this morning. “How was the shoot, was it nice?”

Dumping his keys on the hallway table, Daniel follows the sound of Max’s voice. As suspected, he’s still stretched out across the cushions, belly up like Jimmy when he’s sunbathing in the balcony back home. His hand is shoved down the front of his shorts, but only idly. Daniel can see he’s not hard.

Still, for a moment his gaze gets caught there, before shifting back to Max’s face, his curious expression as he takes in the giant box Daniel is holding.

Right.

“I got you something,” Daniel says, setting it down on the coffee table. He opens it and begins to dig around. “A lot of merch swag and shit, but- Tah dah!”

He pulls out the game, proudly showing Max the box that has his own face on the cover. F1 2024.

“Oh,” Max says, and his smile is as sweet at the two happy pink splotches that begin to warm up his cheeks. “Thank you, Daniel.”

He sits up then, taking the game from Daniel’s hands and holds it like it’s something very special.

It’s not much of a gift really, because Max could get a copy for himself whenever he wanted. His people could call EA, or if he was feeling particularly desperate he could offer to do an ad of his own, but- He wouldn’t.

The only things he’s ever to gone out of his way to get are his championships and Daniel.

“I will have to wait for Lando to get his copy,” Max is continuing, but already he’s moving to crouch in front of their TV, his PlayStation, “or maybe Charles, for the multi-player but-“

“I can play,” Daniel interrupts, picking up the controller from their coffee table. It feels less foreign in his hand after a day being recorded holding it.

Max pauses, game disk spinning on one finger as he turns to look at Daniel.

“You want to play?”

He sounds confused, surprised.

“Sure,” Daniel says, all fake nonchalance. “I’ve even had a head start playing, I might be better than you.”

With a warmth fizzing in his belly, he watches the shock on Max’s face melt into quiet joy. He ducks his head to finish putting the game into the console, and when he takes a seat next to Daniel on the sofa, it’s close enough that their thighs are pressed together. Warm.

“I think if you want to beat me, you will have to hold it like this,” Max pokes at Daniel with a teasing grin, and then his hands are moving gently over Daniel’s to correct where he’s apparently holding the controller all wrong.

Daniel snorts, pushing out an elbow to nudge at the soft place Max’s ribs hide underneath.

“Fighting talk, baby,” he insists with far more confidence than he feels. “Just you wait, you’ll be begging for mercy.”

Max’s laugh is bright.

“Okay but I think we need to look at the settings first,” he begins again, “because of course I have the sensitivity set very high, and-“

Daniel lets Max’s explanations wash over him like music.

—

Later, Daniel manages to finally win a race by shunting Max into the first corner, speeding away while he’s still spinning in the gravel.

“That of course, does not count,” Max insists indignantly, though there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That is cheating, Daniel.”

“Not what you said in Baku baby,” Daniel reminds him, and then pokes his tongue out when Max begins to trip over his protests that he has done nothing wrong, ever.

Daniel begins a loud rendition of ‘we are the champions,’ in favour of listening.

Giving up his attempts to defend himself, Max tosses his controller onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter, instead choosing to crawl over Daniel, pressing him down into the sofa.

“I will show you a fucking champion,” he mutters, his thigh finding its way between Daniel’s legs.

Daniel’s own controller hits the hard wood floor with a thud.

#written from my iPhone #half asleep this morning #haven’t gramma checked #enjoy!!!!😉#fic #max/daniel

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the-cloudy-dreamer · 7 months

Text

“And here we are! Mister Gadling if I may introduce you to the owner of this estate, Lord Morpheus Endelas?'' The portrait of a severe looking man hangs at the top of the staircase, with an ornate golden frame. It is the only thing occupying that wall.

It looks lonely.

“Lord Morpheus? So, if he is the owner of this estate, why is his sister the one rushing to sell it? Where is he?” Hob asks, confused.

“Nobody really knows. He was quite the renowned painter at the time but went missing at the peak of his career months after his only son died in a tragic accident,” Mister Edwards explains.

Hob’s heart clenches in sympathy, as if to lose one’s child seems horrible enough, but to be expected to carry on after such a loss seems unthinkable to him.

“Hold on, missing? Missing implies that he is still out there! Doesn't he get a say in what happens to his state? He could come back and rightfully unleash his wrath upon us for going through with this! Sir, you have to understand that if I am to take up this job offer I need to know I’m not risking my entire career and reputation over it.”

He feels perplexed “Wasn't anyone else concerned about this? How is picking apart a missing man’s home and selling all his worldly possessions to the highest bidder even considered acceptable? What was the Endelas family even thinking? The man lost his only child, surely he just needed some time away?” It didn't seem unreasonable to Hob.

He didn’t like it. Something about this felt wrong.

“It is believed even by his own remaining family, that Lord Endelas killed himself. Saying he is missing is the polite way to not address the fact that no body was ever found! Even before his son’s death he was infamous for his melancholic moods and tendencies towards neglecting himself to the point of damaging his own health significantly. So I’m hardly asking you to do anything immoral here! You are a good man Mister Gadling, and if the thought of taking this job distresses you so much I will accept that and find someone else to do it, but Lady Endelas wants this to be done sooner rather than later and I think you are the best choice for it.”

Hob turns his attention back to the portrait and contemplates for a moment.

He truly did look lonely up there.

“I will give you my answer tomorrow morning, Mister Edwards,” he concludes.

“That’s all I ask for Mister Gadling, for you to consider it. Thank you.” Edwards inclines his head and promptly turns around, heading back downstairs.

Hob looks helplessly at the portrait of Lord Morpheus, already knowing he will take the job come morning.

Damn him and his bleeding heart.

---------------------------------------

Ta-dah! illustration that's part of my gothic romance dreamling AU for @dreamlingnation spooky event !! the prompt that inspired this was "cursed painting" the comic pages for the ficlet above are already in the works so stay tuned for that and more!

special thanks to @academicblorbo for helping me edit this, you are the best friend!

#the sandman #the sandman fanart #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #dream x hob #dnhouseofhorrors #lord morpheus #cloudy illustrates #really need a title for this AU #spooky ooky #gothic romance dreamling au

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ramp-it-up · 1 year

Text

Red Wings

Summary: Bucky wants to earn his red wings with you.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: Around 1300

A/N: This is based on this ask: What if reader and Bucky are shopping and he sees her put feminine cleanliness products in the basket? How would he react?

Again, sorry this is so late! I’ve been neglecting my inbox. This is a one shot

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Wee bit of angst on the part of the reader. Period talk, personal hygeine products, suggestive language (whew!) Talk of: Period sex, protected sex, unprotected sex (you still need to wrap it up), nipple play, anal play, shower sex, anal sex.

Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Despite your best efforts, James Buchanan Barnes found you.

He was, after all, a world class agent of stealth. And the former Winter Soldier.

You should have known better than to think you would outsmart him.

You watched in horror as he approached you with what he had in his metal hand.

You gasped.

Bucky raised his eyebrow at you and smirked. Then he shook his head as he deposited his item in the grocery cart.

It was a huge box of Cheerios. Plain.

“I know you don’t like them, Doll. We can go and you can pick out your sugar infested chocolate doo dahs if you want.”

You just nodded and hid your hand behind your back, a huge lump in your throat.

“Hold up. We need a couple boxes of these.”

Bucky grinned as he grabbed two cartons of Magnum XLs and tossed them in the cart.

“Those should last the week.”

You just stared at him, trying to slowly move your hand as you backed toward the shelf.

Bucky chuckled again and grabbed two more boxes.

“You’re right, we need more than that.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you, and then noticed what you were doing.

“What ya got there doll?”

He nodded toward you, suspicion evident on his face.

You were caught. There was no use lying. You sighed and brought your hand from around your back to reveal a feminine hygiene product.

“Might not need those condoms this week, Bucky.”

You avoided his eyes as you deposited it in the cart.

Well, this was it. You’d just started being domestic with Bucky and you really liked him, but this might be a deal breaker. You clutched the handle of the shopping cart and stared at the wheels.

“Hey,” Bucky moved close to you and tilted your face up by your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You good, Doll?”

You cleared your throat and tried to avoid those bluer than blues.

“I- I’m fine. That time of the month, y-know. So…”

You huffed.

“I know it’s gross, and I understand if you want to…”

“Doll. Look at me.”

You focused on Bucky, your cheeks hot.

“I know it’s your time of the month. I asked if you were good. Are your symptoms worse than usual?”

“H-how…?”

Bucky smiled down at you and leaned in.

“I can smell you.”

You closed your eyes, mortified.

“I am so… so sorry Bucky.”

“I said, look at me.”

Your eyes snapped open at his tone. You watched him lick his lips and observed the look in his eyes.

He looked..it couldn’t be.

“No need to apologize, unless it’s for not giving me any sooner.”

Bucky watched your mouth as it dropped open.

“You’re killing me here, Doll.”

He cocked his head.

“We’ve been intimate for what? About three weeks? And we’ve been dating for three months?”

You were able to nod as his hand moved down to gently rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your neck. Goosebumps were raised all over your body.

“It was torture during each of your goddess times for me to hold myself back. You smell so… Goddamn Doll. You don’t know, do you?”

You shook your head now, speechless.

“You were on when we met, remember? I wanted to ravage you, but that would have been rude.”

You giggled, remembering your instant attraction.

“Oh my god, Bucky…”

“It was somewhat easier that night, since we barely knew each other, and plus I was havin the time of my life talking to you. You’re so damn smart, Doll”

Your boyfriend looked at you appreciatively, then went on.

“But when we became a couple, each month I just wanted to revel in you, but I sensed you were uncomfortable with it. But it was hard. God, I was so hard. Every single time.”

This time when you shook your head, it was in disbelief.

Bucky pulled you closer to him.

“I am not a little boy. I’m a grown man. In fact, I’m an old man.”

You stared up into his face, captivated.

“I am not afraid of your womanhood. It’s not ‘gross.’ In fact, I happen to know that it can be very pleasurable for me… and for you during this time…”

You put your hands on his chest, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe.

How could he be this perfect?

“You’re more sensitive, especially your tits, Doll. Right?”

You didn’t, you couldn’t answer, but the answer was pressed up against him. He could feel it. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“They are bigger and softer right now. Nipples so fucking delicious. I bet I could make you cum just from licking them. Maybe sucking softly?”

The moan you let out was not appropriate for the grocery store, thank goodness it wasn’t loud. Bucky had you wrapped around his little finger, and you wanted to be wrapped around his big dick, cycle be damned.

“If you let me in, you’d be extra tight, you’d hug me so good and snug and I’d have to go slow, until you beg me to go fast, and it will feel like extra creamy goodness, especially because we won’t need those…”

He nodded toward the condoms and your eyes watered at the thought of fucking Bucky raw. He took a ragged breath before he continued.

“We can do it in the shower, or just lay down a towel. We’re both grown, Doll.”

He paused.

“Or…”

Bucky was huffing in your ear now and you could feel his erection against your hip .

“Or… I know you like it when I play, my fingers, or my tongue… in your other hole…”

“Bucky!”

You hit his chest, and looked around. Bucky didn’t care who might have been around.

“Am I lying?”

Bucky laughed and turned you around, grasping the cart around you, so you could feel his cock in your backside. You flushed when an older couple walked by and smiled at you two. It looked innocent, but it was anything but.

When they were out of earshot, you replied.

“No… it’s just… you’re just so… I don’t know if it will fit...”

Bucky leaned down and kissed your neck, one hand splayed gently against your stomach, as the other reached for some personal lubricant and put it in the cart.

“Oh, Baby Doll,” Bucky groaned in your ear. “We’ll make it fit. And we’ll feel so good doing it.”

You used to think you didn’t want it. But now you did. Your body was ready and clenching around nothing. That had to change.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

The neediness in your voice was readily apparent.

“Yes.”

He took a ragged breath, trying to calm down.

“Bottom line is if you want to fuck Bucky on your cycle, off your cycle, 365, 24/7, this dick is yours. No qualifications, no black out dates. I want to have you in every single way.”

He cleared his throat and stepped back from you.

“So get whatever products you need. No need to hide them from me, Doll.”

He grabbed your neck and brought you in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ve got to take a walk because I have the biggest hard-on. I’m going to go get you some cocoa sugar dyno puffs on aisle 10 before I bend you over the salad bar and fuck you until we get arrested.”

You both laughed but the look in his eye said that he wasn’t totally joking. You swallowed and nodded, reaching for your products.

You turned around and Bucky was gone, as if that had been a dream. You began to wonder if it was.

Your phone vibrated and you pulled it out to look at the message.

Hurry up Doll. You got me so worked up that at the very least I gotta suck your nipples until you cum.

You practically ran to the checkout lane.

When you saw James Buchanan Barnes’ fine ass waiting for you was when you decided to do the absolute most.

#ask dj #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes ask #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #beefy bucky

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urlovebrini · 9 months

Text

i'm super shy. i'm all nervous 'cause you're on my mind all the time, and i wanna tell you but i'm super shy (part 1)

⋆❀ — includes: alhaitham, cyno, kaeya, wanderer x gn! reader, fem! reader with cyno [only mention of the word miss in cyno, im sorry i didn't find another word]

⋆❀ — summary: he can't seem to let your mind alone and you want to make a move but you are super shy

⋆❀ — content: fluff, gn! reader (mention of skirts, makeup, and lipgloss with wanderer) pinning, one-sided attraction, not really one-sided attraction, pet names (kaeya calls you angel) a lot of pinning (you are super shy dah) little embarrassment, in the end it works. protective master diluc, you work at angel's share and he is a good boss, kaeya and diluc banter, nilou bestie, she is a sweetheart and wants the best for you.

⋆❀ — a/n: i swear that this song doesn't let my mind alone, so I have to do it. every constructive criticism is accepted, and if you comment, it is appreciated. maybe tell me your favorite.

⋆❀ — part 1 | part 2 [diluc, heizou, thoma, xiao]

I'm super shy, super shy But wait a minute while I make you mine, make you mine I'm all nervous 'cause you're on my mind all the time I wanna tell you but I'm super shy, super shy

⋆❀˖°·🧋࿐ ࿔˚cyno

days at the akademiya always held a certain rhythm - classes, debates, conferences, homeworks, readings, and writings - you thought that you had become accustomed by now. but in the last days, it was all in the background, to a single presence that lingers in your head. him. you had only seen the general mahamatra in the corridors, but it seems like he was established in your mind all the time. you mulled over the idea of talking to him, but the simple idea made you nervous, the tought of being in front of him made you feel so shy.

walking through the crowded akademiya corridors, as you are headed to the exit, your path is intercepted. standing before you is the general mahamatra, and as your eyes meet his gaze, your toughts momentarily falter, your mind swirling with sensations, leaving you slightly disoriented. he begins to speak, but his words blend into a distant hum and you mind struggles to fully grasp the situation. Cyno looks at you, his intense eyes piercing you "miss?".

the realization that he's addressing you seems to catch you. He notices how your lips part slowly, and in a soft voice that betrays your nervousness, you utter, "i'm... sorry, can you... repeat that?", a low voice and a soft color that starts to warm your face. cyno observes you his eyes fierce and unwavering "don't worry, miss" but his voice is soft and almost calming "its and investigation, i just want to inquire you about a teacher and some peers of you" even his tone was soothing it was fill with autority.

cyno is looking at you with so much intensity. he observes you as you part your lips to respond, but as words dont come out, you quickly change to a nod. his perceptive gaze, noting how your eyes fall on him to quickly divert them to another place. "alright, miss, come with me." he gives you a last look, noticing your nervous and shy state. with silence, he takes the lead, guiding you towards the oficce.

the questions flow swiftly but cyno its observant on you, notices the stolen glances you cast in his direction, only to avert your eyes almost immediately, whether to the floor or an invisible point on the wall. to the slow, enchanting blink of your eyes and the gleam they hold. he catches the subtle parting of your lips and the way your breath catches wheen he addresses you as "miss" or by your name.

after that day, whatever he is at the akademiya, he can help but get his attention caught by you. by the way your gaze lingers on him as he stroddes through the corridors, the silly way your divert your eyes if he helps to catch you looking. and the occasionally sweet shy smiles you grace to him. he's far from oblivious to the attention you direct his way. he is intrigued. and now he knows now the nervousness in your first encounter it was not fear.

it was the end of the day, you gather your belongings, preparing to head out, as you make the way to the exit, someone interrups your steps, you gaze lifts and cyno is looking at you, his gaze intense and perceptive looking at you "miss". he looks at you as you start clutching the strap of your backpack, and your eyes shift downward, how you bite to lip before you talk "general mahamatra," voice softly almost timid "do you have more questions? need more information?" you voice lingers as he hums.

"just one question miss," his eyes fixated on your face, looking how you look at him quickly and shyly. "would you consider joining me for a dinner or a cup of coffee?. a warm smile graces the general lips as he observes your surprise, your lips slightly parting in a mixture of astonishment and words that seem to elude you, lost for words, you offer a nod of excitement. cute, its the word in his mind. as he take your arm delicately a playful glint shines in his eyes "shall we go for that coffee? perhaps we can brew something brew-tiful"

And I wanna go out with you Where you wanna go? Find a lil' spot, just sit and talk Looking pretty, follow me You and I side by side

⋆❀˖°·🧋࿐ ࿔˚ wanderer

the first time you saw wanderer was just purely by chance, you had deviated from your usual path, seeking a break from your routine, and that's when you spotted him. it was just a single moment, just a single second, but time seemed to stand still, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. it was so absurd, a cliche, you didn't believe in love at first sign, so you chalked it up to just a passing crush.

yet the next day, you found yourself walking back on that same path, telling yourself it was a refreshing change. and there he was again. and perhaps there was something more to it. the path became your daily journey, and more often than not, he was there, and you couldn't deny how your heart would skip a beat when you saw him, how the little stolen glances turned into lingering gazes. you knew you should talk to him, say something but every time he was near there was a hold on you. it felt as if he had a unique power to invoke an overwhelming sense of shyness within you.

just as your shyness is hindering you from initiating a conversation, you better try to capture his attention. day after day, you put extra effort into your appearance, trying to look the most pretty that you can all in bid to catch his eye. you feel that you are making a fool of yourself, a more alluring perfume, lips glossy, eyelashes curled, and the clothes day by day a little more reaviling,

and even though you are not aware of it, wanderer is fully conscious of your attempts and intentions. he notices all the effor you put into trying to catch his attention; its rather pathetic, the extra care in your appearance, the skirts that seem to get shorter by the day, its laughable and entertaining. And oh, those shy, needy glances you made only add to the comedic effect to him. so he won't make it easy for you. he doesn't intervene, he doesn't acknowledge it, he wonders how much longer you can go if he tells the true he is a little facinated

as days pass by, you decide to make an attempt to initiate a conversation with him, maybe even invite him for or simply just say hi. but as you set out on your regular path, nothing seems right. you find yourself running behind schedule, the wind is wreaking havoc messing with your appearance, and the words you planed don't feel correct and are unwilling to stick with you. and as you spoot him your nervousness surges, causing you to reconsider your decision. plan b involves handing him a letter, yet as you get close, you repent and yearn to escape. even afraid you look up. wanderer looks at you with a mix of surprise and confusion, making you look to the ground again.

as if he had reached his limit, wanderer lets out an exasperated sigh and strides toward you "what on teyvat are you up to?" his tone tinged with a blend of incredulity and amusement, you could feel you cheeks start to burn, looking for something for say but lost on words. caught between wanting to explain and wishing you could simply disappear.

he let out a chuckle. he begins to gatter al your things, finally he helps you back onto your feet, his touch gentle yet commanding, and you can't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in his presence. you seem almost afraid to look at him. he regards you with a mix of exhaustion and amusement "if you thought i hadn't noticed your efforts, you are more dumb that i tought" he remarks, his lips curving into a condescending smile.

but before you can respond, wanderer's hand catches your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. his words come with a sense of resignation. "agh, let's go," he says, his tone softened as he releases your chin. "I'll take you on that date you seem so desperate to have, whether you like it or not." his hand moves to grip your arm though gentle, his hold was firm to indicate that there is no turning back "I'll take you on that date you seem so desperate to have, whether you like it or not."

You don't even know my name, do ya? You don't even know my name, do ya-a? More than anyone You don't even know my name, do ya

⋆❀˖°·🧋࿐ ࿔˚kaeya

the nights at angel's share were typically bustling with activity. you moved gracefully around the bar, tending to customers with your usual warm smile. trays of drinks came and went, and your friendly, slightly flirtatious charm seemed to be a hit with most patrons. however, when it came to kaeya, everything changed. a nervous shyness seemed to envelop you whenever he entered the bar. you were well aware of his reputation; kaeya alberich, the charismatic cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, was known for his suave words and flirtatious mannerisms. and despite knowing, you found yourself falling for his charms.

and it seems that you can't help it. each time you have to interact with him, a mixture of weakness and uncertainty welled up within you. his confident demeanor, those alluring eyes, and the way he effortlessly commanded attention were truly captivating, Yet, amidst the flutter of your heart, a pang of doubt tugged at your thoughts. "You don't even know my name, do you?" you mused inwardly, yoy can evade the toughts, does he even know your name? Or does he see you merely as the waitress of the bar?

this night was not different, as you attend the patrons during the night, giving sweet smiles and small laughs, you found yourself occasionally stealing glances in kaeyas direction, and with each little look, your heart beat a little faster. it happened every time he orders a drink or engages in casual conversation. he was so alluring, the way he was leaning casually against the bar, his easy smile and his witty remarks, and you can help but offer him shy smiles as you attend him and fulfill his request.

"here you go, all ready, captain," you manage to say with a shy smile, placing his order on the counter and trying to avoid looking to his eyes. "thank you, dear," he responds, his voice smooth and appreciative. you take your leave but just as you are about to turn away, his voice reaches stooping you.

"wait, dear," he says, his voice soft and inviting, his gaze is fixed on you, and a playful glint sparks in his eyes as he continues, "care to take a little break and join me? how about we share a drink together? i promise i won't bite... much." your heart skips a beat at his invitation, you glance at him, momentarily lost of words. kaeya looks at you, his eyes with a glint of amusement and something more. you stutter a little in the beginning "umm i, you, amm captain kaeya" you start, voice soft and timid "i appreciate your offer, really, but im actually working right now. and master diluc would scold me if he found me sitting and drinking with a patron"

kaeya laught softly. he leaned casually against the bar, his posture relaxed, but his eyes held a mischievous glint. "Ah, master Diluc," he began, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm "always the responsabile one, isn't he?. he rolled his eyes dramatically, the corners of his lips tugging into an amused smile "but, you know, my dear, he can be quite buzkill sometimes" the casual banter between the brothers was know, and you couldn't help but chuckle at kaeya words.

however, as Kaeya's gaze settled on you, his expression softened, and the playful tone gave way to something more genuine. "but you know," he said, his voice quieter now, "i think even he can't argue with the fact that an angel like you deserves a little break now and then."

as you grasp his words, the air seems to shift around you, and your heartbeat quickened. "angel," you repeat softly in bewilderment, as if you were trying to grasp the meaning and understand why he would refer to you in that way. kaeya lips curled into a gentle smile, his eyes holding yours as he leaned closer to you "yes, angel," he repetead softly "isn't that what you are?" you found yourself momentarily lost in his gaze "i come here quite often, and each time I see you," he continued, his voice like a whisper meant only for you, "you make even a rowdy tavern feel like a sanctuary, angel." and you couldn't help but be entranced by the way he looked at you,"an angel blessing us all here in angel's share," he concludes, in that moment all was a blur your eyes enchanted by his gaze

"kaeya i ask you kindly to please don't disturb my workers and let them do their job," dilucs voice broke the enchanting moment, his tone a mix of annoyance, warning, and command. kaeya's demeanor shifted as he looked at Diluc, a playful and innocent expression crossing his features. "oh, diluc, i'm just making sure my angel is fine," he quipped, his tone light and teasing. diluc's gaze narrowed with a touch of exasperation. "Kaeya, I think they are perfectly capable—" "everything is okay, master diluc," you interrupted, your voice soft and shy as you didn't quite know where to look amidst the sudden attention.

diluc's gaze softened, and he nodded once before turning his attention back to the bar. the brief exchange left you feeling flustered, your heart still racing from kaeya's earlier words. you dared to steal a glance at Kaeya, who was still watching you with that same playful twinkle in his eyes, and a gentle smile tugging at his lips. his voice carrying a sense of intimacy amidst the bustling bar. "it seems duty calls for now, my angel, but rest assured, I meant every word I said."

kaeyas tone softness as he continues "and i will be here making sure my angel is alright, umm? his words enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth. he leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that only you can hear amidst the ambient noise. "And you know, I'd love to get to know more about the angel who graces Angel's Share. Maybe over a drink sometime?"

I'm usually pretty talkative, what's wrong with me? I don't like that Something odd about you Yeah, you're special and you know it You're the top, babe

⋆❀˖°·🧋࿐ ࿔˚ alhaitam

the grand bazar bustle as ever, the vibrant streets, and the cacophony of the shouts of the vendors, serves as a background echo of your mind as you strolled through it. your body tire from the theater and dance rehearsals, yet you mind keep wandering towards him. he had come to watch the play a few days ago, invited by nilou. it was exasperating that you couldn't pinpoint when you started feeling this way about him. he was just special. he was captivating, and those eyes—there was no logical explanation, just a simple truth: he was undeniably handsome, and a single glance from him was enough to make your heart skip.

you couldn't shake off the strange feeling. he held a grip on your subconscious. his presence lingered, even when he wasn't around. and butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the more thought of him. nilou would often nag you, pressuring you to take a step forward. she said that he should consider himself priviliged and fortounate that someone as charming, sociable, outgoing, beautiful and smart, as you had taken notice of him.

but she was mistaken. a lot. there was something unique about him. the grand scribe, with a commanding precense and an aura that carried a hint of severity and a touch of intimidation. yes there was just something about him.

so when you hear nilous voice calling you over and you approached her, the bustling surroundings seemed to fade into insignificance. he stands there by her side. his eyes, those turquoise eyes with a rubi vein, the world around you sems to fade as he holds your gaze. nilous words hung in the air. but your mind was preoccupied to comprehend alhaithams presence in front of you. as she introduce you, and talk more. the exchange between the two of them seeme distant and muffled, fading into the background, leaving you struggling to grasp the specifics of their conversation.

you catch brief things like your name, dance, books, and something about academic interest. she's talking about you. nilou is talking about you, and a spark of panic jolts you out of your daze "they have such an interesting view in dance and arts! things i wouldn't even tought, they say something about ummm. how it was? arts and dance as a place to human construction and projection, i think those were their words. they could talk to you more about it sometime! i find it much more fascinating than some things from the academy." nilou's words would have carried on, but the distant voice of mr. zubayr interrupted, "excuse me, I have some matters to attend to, but I'll leave you two. we'll talk later." as nilou excuse herself. alhaitham eyes linger on you, his gaze penetrating.

you turn your attention back to him. your gaze meeting his eyes. a moment of silence before he speaks, "so, dance as a platform for human construction and projection?, that's quite a unique topic? care to elaborate?. you feel a mixture of surprise and flustered nerves. why must he look at you with such intensity. normally, you're quite talkative, but his presence has an uncanny way of rendering you speechless. "it's not really a serious research topic," you begin, your voice coming out softer than you intended. you clear your throat and look at him, your eyes meeting his briefly before you quickly glance away, your cheeks warming with a faint blush. "it's just... something personal, not professional."

alhaitam's gaze remained fixed on you, his intense scrutiny seemingly dissecting every facet of your being. he had been aware of you before, the graceful dance of the zubyar theater, enchanting and lively almost like a fairy. while the world of the arts held not fascination to him you were quite intriguing by you. and he could see trough your so adorable reactions to him. his lip curled into a faint smile, a playful glint in his eyes that you seem to lost "personal, hmm" he muses, his voice carrying a teasing hint as he leans closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Those tend to be the most intriguing, don't they?" the warm of his breath sends you shiver and his proximity is leaving you breathless

as his gaze unravel your reactions, he cant help but admit, you are indeed quite a distraction - such a pretty distraction. "it's just, umm, i belive in dance as more than moment, is more of a expression for the human i think you respond, your words slightly stumbling in your nervousness "its just something im curious about..."

"curiosity is a valuable trait" he remarks and you eyes look at him "let's take this conversation to a more suitable setting," his voice resonating with a confident command. without waiting for your response, he gestures for you to follow him, as he starts walking, his confident demeanor makes it clear that he fully expects you to accompany him. so you follow him.

the silence between you as you walk is almost comfortable, his eyes stole little glances of you, a hint of amusementent in his eyes, as he seems to relish in your nervousness it's as if he finds solace in the fact that you're a bit flustered in his presence.

ost in your thoughts, you suddenly find yourself stumbling, a gasp escaping your lips, before you know it. his arms swoop in to catch you. your body instinctively presses against his, the warmth of his proximity seeping through your senses. "you're a bit clumsy for a dancer," his voice carrying a hint of amusement. your gaze meets his, a mixture of embarrassment and lovesickness in your eyes. and a subtle change in his eyes darkening "or perhaps it's just an excuse? A way to get closer to me?".

a mixture of embarrassment and something else coursing through your veins. "perhaps there's a hint of truth in that," you reply, a timid smile gracing your lips.

⋆❀ — a/n: this is the first part, or best say the stories of the first characters. weinting some of this was so dificult i am looking at you sumeru boys. in the new part i will doing xiao, heizou, thoma and diluc, i hope it's ready tomorrow or before.

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sporadicthingcollection · 7 months

Text

Smash or Pass: Part 1/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Warnings: Alcohol, death threats, implied threat of sexual assault. Word Count: ~3.1k.

Mama told me what I should know

"Too much candy's gonna rot your soul

If she loves you, let her go'

Cause love only gets you down!"

---

PART 1: In which you are threatened with a knife, a gun, and a good time.

You thought the night would be fine. You thought no one in this bar would bother you. You thought you’d have a little nightcap or three and head back to the ship. You thought you’d have one last night to spend on your own before sharing a small space with five other people for the foreseeable future.

But nothing worked out as you’d hoped.

As soon as you got comfy at a table in the corner, a horde of rough-looking sailors descended and lit up the place. Loud. Rowdy. Obnoxious.

Ugh. At least they’re not Marines. You can lay low. Sink deep in your chair and focus on your drink.

Gazing into the scrying beer glass, you let your mind wander among the swirls. Thoughts ebb and flow.

Like how you need to remember to get more sutures before you cast off. Or how heavy your fingers feel under all the jewelry. How naked your ring fingers look with no adornment. Your family would be nagging you to get married by now. They’d like Sanji.

But they wouldn’t like that stupid, stupid clown.

He’s been on your mind a lot lately. You hate it. But how could he not be? Made you an offer you had to refuse. You tell yourself it wouldn’t have worked out. Where was he last month when you were looking for an escape? You hope you never see him again.

…but if you did see him again, you wouldn’t complain. He’d probably sidle up to you and say something like—

“Well, hello, gorgeous."

Yeah, that's exactly what he would say.

Wait. That was loud. That wasn’t your thoughts. It can’t be. You turn.

Buggy the Clown grins at you. “Fancy meeting you here, Miss Sawbones."

You dive to the floor as he pulls a knife from his sleeve and throws it at you, sinking up to the handle in the wall. You clamber to your feet, put on your best snarl, and raise your fists.

All eyes are on you and Buggy as you size him up. The clink of chains and scrape of drawn swords sounds all around you. You’re not sure who your allies are, but you’re grateful for the support.

Especially because there’s just as many goons behind Buggy. He looks as surprised as you feel. His stance softens as he glances around. You could get a punch in while his guard is down—

“Hey!”

A gravelly voice splits the very air of the room. Like a child caught in the cookie jar, you freeze. You’re in big trouble.

Buggy freezes too. His shoulders hunch and his eyes go wide. He glances at you, and then to the side. You look in the same direction.

Standing behind the bar is a stout woman in an apron. A cigar dangles from her lips and she wields a wicked glare. Along with a very, very large shotgun.

She points at a big sign hung above the shelves. NO FiTiN IN DaH baR in big red letters on weathered wooden planks.

“‘No fittin’…?'” Buggy mutters.

“If you’re gonna kill each other,” the matron says, “do it outside.”

Due to a sudden lapse in self-preservation, you speak up. “He started it—“

Everyone jumps as she fires into the ceiling. “And I’m ending it. Get along or get out.”

You glance at Buggy. He glances back. You can see the whites of his eyes, even from all the way over here. Slowly, he replaces his knives back into his jacket.

You lower your fists, feeling awful sheepish.

The bar matron nods. “Back to your drinks, all of you,” she says.

You can’t help but feel a little embarrassed as the crowd disperses. You can read. You’re very literate. How’d you miss that?

“Guess we both need glasses,” Buggy says right next to your ear.

You jump and nearly swing on him again, but you pull the punch. You have no interest in being shot tonight. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Getting a drink, same as you. Last stop before the Grand Line.” His voice dips low and he leans in close. “And last chance I’ll likely get to cut you and your little captain’s throats.”

You scowl. “Over my dead body,” you growl.

“That’s the idea.” The matron clears her throat loudly. He flinches and pulls back, but the glare remains. “Once you leave, babe— snnckt!” He draws his finger across his throat and his head rolls off his shoulders and into his arms. You yelp and he cackles as he puts it back.

Well, now you’re in it. This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed on the ship, you dumb lush. You could have just drank with Zoro. Or shot the shit with Usopp while he shot at shit. Or let Sanji hit on you while you sharpened his knives. Literally anything would have been better than this.

But here you are. Time to get yourself out of it. Somehow.

"Well, I’m not going anywhere," you tell Buggy. You sit back down at your table. "So get comfy, clown."

He places his hat on the table and plops into the seat across from you. He snatches up the mug -- your mug -- and takes a long, long, long pull. He tips his head all the way back, throat bobbing with every swallow.

You try and fail to drag your eyes away. You like sharp throats.

When it's drained, he slams it back down on the table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and how he doesn't smudge his makeup, you'll never know.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He kicks up his boots onto the table. “So what’re we drinkin’? Rum? Ale? Whiskey? Bet you’re a rum kinda gal.”

This is gonna be a night.

---

One bottle in. You glower at him and he smiles back, eyes twinkling in the dim light.

Second bottle. The sun is fully down. He’s started chattering about nothing and everything. Rage roils inside you.

Third bottle. The room slowly spins. He’s still talking. You might leave just so you can strangle him.

Fourth bottle. You flip him the bird. He just giggles.

Fifth bottle. You mix it up a bit and order some shots. The matron brings the glasses and leaves the bottle.

“Hey, the good shit.” Buggy pours two glasses and raises one. “Cheers.”

Something bubbles up in your chest. The urge to speak. You’re gonna say something stupid. You just know it. And you’re just lubricated enough that it slides through.

You raise your glass. “Another day, another bender. No retreat, no surrender.” You toss it back and it scorches your throat on its way down.

Your head is so full of cotton that it takes you a moment to notice the laughter. Strong. Sharp. Bellyful. Contagious. You like that laugh. You’d like to hear more of it.

And then you realize it’s coming from Buggy. He has his head tossed back and his eyes scrunched and he’s letting out the most glorious laughter you’ve ever heard.

Before you can be properly disgusted with yourself, he recovers. “I got one.” He pours another pair of shots and slides one to you. “Here’s to our wives and girlfriends. May they never meet.”

Two more shots tossed back and two more glasses slammed on the table. It’s all going right to your head and the more it does, the more you’re enjoying yourself.

“Everyone knows that one,” you say. You pour. “One drink is good, two at the most. Three I’m under the table, four I’m under the host.”

His eyebrows shoot up, lips pursed into a circle. Then he laughs again. “Workin’ blue tonight! Alright!” Two more shots poured. “It ain’t the length, it ain’t the size, it’s how often I can make it rise.”

You weren’t expecting that and you almost spit the shot out. You hack and sputter as it goes down the wrong pipe, but you recover.

Though now you’re thinking about Buggy’s dick. You should probably stop that. You wonder if it’s small and that’s why he is how he is.

“Y’alright, babe?” He takes a pull right from the bottle and spills some on his chin and shirt. He’s sauced too. Small comfort.

One more comes to mind. You reach across and snatch the bottle. “Now he lays me down to screw.” You pour one shot. “I pray this clown knows what to do.” You pour the other. “If he should cum before I end…” You raise yours. “I swear to God I’ll fuck his friend!”

He stares at you a moment, grinless, just long enough for you to worry. And then it returns with a howling cackle. He slams his glass into yours hard enough to slosh some whiskey out and you both shoot it back.

You stare at each other, giggling like hyenas. Some part of you knows this is ridiculous. You’re getting smashed with a guy who tried to kill you and your friends. Who was just ready to kill you. Who is plotting to slit your throat right when you’re not expecting it.

You just laugh harder. What’s your life come to?

You come back down to see him staring at you, head resting on his hand. "You laugh cute."

“Nuh-uh.” You take a swig from the whiskey bottle. “I laugh like a News Coo.”

“News Coos are adorable!” He snatches the bottle back and takes a pull. “We switchin’ back to rum after this one? Or do we wanna get avden— abvench— adventurous?”

A good question. "Let's go nuts."

"My kinda woman!" He slams the table to catch the matron's attention. "Bring us something strong!"

---

Bottle six is gin. Neither of you like it and you both down the whole thing. Bottle seven, you're back to ale.

On eight, you wonder if the throat-cutting threat was a ruse and he's really just going to give you alcohol poisoning.

At least it's a fun way to go.

"So there I am," Buggy says, "looking at the giant hole in the hull where the cannon once was, holding a cannonball like this--" He jumps to his feet, pops his head off, and clutches it to his chest like it weighs fifty pounds. "--when the first mate himself walks in."

Your jaw drops. "What'd you do?"

"Only thing I could do.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Threw the cannonball at him!"

He lobs his head to you. You squeal in surprise, just barely managing to catch him before you fall out of your chair. The giggles flow from you like water from a spigot.

He grins as you look at him. "Gotcha," he says with a wink.

Maybe it's the booze. Maybe it's the surprise. Your cheeks heat up all the same. You throw the head back and clamber to your feet.

A moment of clarity hits you as you sit back down. "Why are we drinking together? You wanna kill me."

"It's not that weird. Best drinkin' buddies I ever had tried to kill me. When I tried to skip out on the tab, but... y'know." He takes a gulp from his mug. "’Sides, I like you."

"Why?"

“Barber. Cute laugh. Helluva haymaker." Another swig. “You'd do better with me than that group of losers."

"I am not joining your crew."

He watches the ale swirl in his mug, tracing the rim with his fingers. His lips purse and he glances everywhere but your face.

You try to wait for him to speak, but music catches your attention before he can reply. A lively tune, one perfect for dancing. It looks like some of the pirates pulled out instruments and are entertaining their fellows.

"Aw, I love this song," you chirp. “Luffy’s right, we gotta get us a musician already.”

A chain of dancers sails past. You wish you could hop in, but you’ve got two left feet in ill-fitting high heels when you’re sober on a good day.

Buggy watches you watch them. “Go cut a rug. I’ll watch your shit.”

You shake your head a little too hard and the universe spins. “No way. Can’t dance worth a damn.”

“I’ll give you a hand.” His left hand detaches with a little flourish. “Or two.” Off goes the other one. “Or all of me, if you want.”

“Then who’s gonna watch my shit?”

He blinks, then sits back. “Whatever. I gotta piss anyways,” he mutters. He tries to stand, only for his feet to slip out from under him. “Can I get a hand?”

“Alright, but I’m not helping you aim.” You’re less sober than he is, but you’re drunk enough to try. Hauling yourself to your feet, you offer your hand. He takes it, pulling himself upwards.

And then you see the smile on his face. In a burst of coordination, he pulls you into the throng of people.

Oooooh no. No. No no no. He whirls you around, making your head spin. You step on someone’s foot. “I. Cannot. Dance.”

“Can’t?” He lifts you up, moves you to the side, and places you down again. “Or won’t?”

“Both!”

“Bullshit. Hand here.” He plants your hand on his shoulder and places his own on your—

You slap the smile off his face. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point. He accepts it.

“Sorry, thought you were shorter,” he mutters. He puts his hand on your waist. Even through his glove, you can feel his warmth. “Stand on my feet.”

“I’m not a child!” You try to pull away, only to collide with a very large man and get knocked back into Buggy. You’re trapped. No way out but to dance.

You know what? Fine. You stand on his feet — making sure to stamp his toes good — and glower at him. “What’s next?”

The smile returns. “Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

You clutch him as tight as you dare. And thank God you do, because soon you’re spinning like a top.

He guides you over and under, side to side, forward and back. And you don’t trip once. Neither of you do. You don’t even feel nauseous. How is he doing this? Is he magic? Is he just that good?

You glance down. Detached from his ankles, his feet support yours as they scoot around. The rest of him glides through the air, guiding you among the other dancers.

It might as well be magic.

"Light off your feet!" you say.

Buggy's chest thrums with a chuckle. Your stomach jumps into your throat as he drops you into a dip just long enough for him to wink at you. "Ain't I clever?"

He pulls you back up and your stomach slides into your boots. The dance continues.

Whirling, twirling, ducking, weaving, bouncing, bobbing… Is this what a dolphin feels like, swirled around by ocean currents? Or a kite, floating on the breeze? Or a princess swept off her feet by a dashing scoundrel?

Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you ponder what your life has come to. A pirate, dancing on the feet of a clown who tried to kill you and your friends. Who then stole several kisses from you and made your heart flutter and got really drunk with you and now you're a little in lo--

No. Don't say it. If you don't say it, it won't come true. Unless it's the other way around?

It is the other way around. If you say it, you'll jinx it and it won't happen. So you admit it to yourself: you're smitten with this psychotic jackass.

The laughter bubbles forth and it just won't stop. You don't want it to stop. You never want this to stop. This feeling, this dance, this fit of hysterics.

But it must, as all things do. With one final fiddle run, the music stops and everyone applauds. You would join them, but you’re too busy holding onto Buggy for dear life, catching your breath and trying to stop the room from spinning.

“Can’t dance, huh?”

He’s as breathless as you, mouth parted as he takes breaths deep enough to shake his shoulders. Sweat glistens on his face. Glows, even. A few shimmering strands of hair have slipped from his bandanna and stick to his forehead.

What little breath you’ve recovered vanishes from your lungs. Your heart flutters — no, it flaps, like a gull fighting a gust.

You wanna kiss him, but that last shred of self-restraint stops you. “Let’s go again,” you say instead.

His face lights up. “Lemme-- Lemme get rid of this.“

His forearms slip out of his coat and fly to his shoulders, catching his coat as he shrugs out of it. They zip over toward your table. Pretty slick, you admit to yourself.

And then it gets caught on a chair. The arms yank and yank, but it’s snagged good. You giggle.

“C’mon, you piece of…!” He huffs. He pecks your cheek. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He scrambles over to the snag, tripping on every table and chair along the way.

And then you realize he kissed you. Your spine goes rigid.

A tap on your shoulder knocks you out of your stun and you turn. You half-expect it to be one of his hands, but a rather large pirate is there.

“My captain fancies you,” he rumbles. He nods at a smug-looking blond with the worst come-hither face you’ve ever seen. “He would like the pleasure of your company.”

Nnnnno, you think. “Nnnnno,” you say. Buggy has freed his coat and is draining the rest of the bottle you’d abandoned. “Already spoken for.”

The man’s hand engulfs your shoulder and pulls you around. “It wasn’t a request.”

The blond snakes his arm around your trunk, his hand going to your breast. You try to pull away, but the goon’s grip is like iron.

A sharp whistle makes everyone turn. Buggy stands there, arms behind his back. His expression is neutral, but you see his clenched jaw and the bulging tendon in his neck.

“And where are you going with my leading lady?” He’s got the showman voice on. “Our number isn’t over.”

The captain smiles. “I’ll return her once we’ve had our fun,” he says.

He takes a few meandering steps towards them. “Look, gentlemen: we can play this as a tragedy or a comedy. Your choice.”

The goon straightens up. He cracks his knuckles with a chorus of pops. The captain draws a rapier. You’re not sure how well a Chop Chop man handles being stabbed.

Buggy glances between the two of them, nonplussed. “Comedy it is.”

Two disembodied hands slam a bottle over each man’s head. Shards of glass and drops of rum fly everywhere. The pirates’ grips go slack, and you jump away as they hit the floor with dull thuds.

Chaos erupts.

---

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #kiss marry kill #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #smash or pass #the curious courtship of buggy the clown

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loonylupin2 · 2 months

Text

The time John Lennon told Derek Taylor he had sex with Stu?

In 1983, this author was staying with "Legs" Larry Smith of the legendary Bonzo Dog Do Dah Band in Hamilden, Oxfordshire. George Harrison lives nearby. Over the months, I got to know many Beatles insiders, including their longtime public relations man Derek Taylor.

He told me of an incident that John had related to him back in 1968.

It occurred in Hamburg at the seedy Bambi Cinema, where the Beatles stayed during several early gigs. One day while Paul, George, and Pete Best were on a boat trip with some local fraüleins, Stu and John stayed behind, getting thoroughly drunk in one of the countless dives that lined the Reeperbahn. They commiserated with each other

about their dismal lot: playing the cramped, noisy strip joints; enduring the filthy accommodations; being perpetually overworked and un-derpaid. Drunk and disconsolate, they returned to their dank one-room hole. Stu was sitting on the top bunk, while John rolled into the bottom. After a few minutes Lennon wordlessly climbed up to join Sutcliffe. What began as mutual consolation turned quietly sexual when Stu went down on him. Lennon disclosed the episode to Taylor during an intense acid trip at his home in suburban London.

From: John Lennon in America by Geoffery Giuliano

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finniestoncrane · 9 days

Note

Here is me requesting my birthday maxi smut honestly im thinking maxi threw some stuff together for a little surprise for her ! And ( he actually does give her a real gift) but the best part comes in the bedroom....

Pun not intended 🤣

I Got You Something

Maximus x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k ay happy birthday!! i love maximus, he's just the softest, sweetest little lamb and the strangest little bug ever and i am obsessed with him and how he'd learn how to be a good boyfriend to someone ;-; 🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, lil bit of smut, oral sex mostly!!

"You're paying attention, right? Because I really can't see anything..."

"Yeah, yeah, I got you! Just a little... further...Oh, shit, watch that pile of... what is that?"

Your feet kicked something soft in front of you and you recoiled, caught in Maximus' arms.

"Max! Can you just uncover my eyes, please?"

"No, almost there. Just a little further..."

As sweet as the gesture was, you almost regretted telling Maximus that it was your birthday. He was so keen to impress, so determined to make sure you still retained a semblance of your old life, of some goodness. He wanted you to keep that optimism, the kind that made you excited for something like a birthday, something he'd never really been all that fussed by.

More importantly, he wanted to be a good boyfriend.

So he kept his front pressed to your back and guided you over the miscellaneous debris that he had neglected to clean out of the way when he found a safe enough space to set up for your surprise. And then, when you were past the door frame, he removed his hands from your eyes and practically squealed.

"... ok, tah-dah!"

When your vision returned, you found yourself in an empty room, the view from the window suggesting it was on the outskirts of the settlement you and Max had been staying in for the past couple of weeks. On the walls there were tiny triangles of stained fabric, tied together to form bunting. In the corner, a bed with the cleanest sheets you'd seen in months and a dresser with an assortment of your favourite snacks. And in the centre of the room, two dining chairs and a wobbling table, upon which there was a strange looking package.

"Max! This is..."

"It's not great, I know, but... Happy Birthday!"

You could tell that your silence was worrying him, so you choked out whatever words could come to you first.

"Maxi... this is amazing."

The effort he'd put into making the space look at least a little welcoming, and a tiny bit liveable, had rendered you almost entirely speechless, unable to express to him how much it really meant to you.

"You sure?"

"Of course! It's... I love it. It's amazing. Thank you."

Reaching up to him, you cupped his cheek as you pressed a kiss to the other, beaming a bright smile at him before you gestured to the package on the table.

"And this?"

"Oh, right! Your present."

"My present?"

Your eyes widened, excited at what you had suspected had been a gift.

"It's not really like... We don't- didn't... do birthdays in the Brotherhood. But I know it's a big deal for you so..."

He reached for the gift, pulling out a chair for you and placing the parcel in your lap once you were seated. As you looked closely at it, you could make out some of the design on the paper. Singed edges of old comic books, scraps from books, all held together with some strips of duct tape. It upset you to even unwrap it, as you thought about the effort he had gone to, so you tore the paper away gently, admiring your gift once you had revealed it.

"Oh, Maxi, this is so sweet."

You held an almost pristine souvenir mug with the Nuka-Cola logo on the front. There was no way of knowing how he'd managed to find it up here, or how much he might have had to spend to get it from a trader. It was perfect.

"It's not great... it's... I'm sorry, it's crap."

"It is not! I love it!"

"Wow, really? Because I had a back-up if you didn't-"

Your ears pricked up, eyes focusing on his sweet, flushed cheeks as your pupils dilated.

"A back-up? You mean there's another gift?"

Maximus stammered over his words, nervously scratching at the back of his neck, flustered by the intense focus you were now giving him.

"It's more of a... like a surprise."

"Well, show me!"

With a renewed excitement, Max took your hand and guided you from the table to the bed, slightly giddy in the way he practically skipped over to it.

"Ok, lie down."

You raised an eyebrow with an excited smile, but did as he asked, letting your body sink into the busted bedframe and watching as he sank to his knees at the bottom of the bed. His hands, shaking with nerves, skimmed up your thigh and grabbed your hips, pulling you down the mattress closer to him. You let out a squeal of shock, giggling as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down your legs and taking your underwear with them.

"Max!"

"What?"

You sat up on your elbows, looking down at him with a grin so wide it almost hurt your cheeks.

"Are you really doing this?"

"Yeah... I've been practising."

He raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a sweet, proud smile.

"Yep, I've been practising."

"I don't even want to ask how..."

"Then don't, just let me show you."

With your lower half completely exposed, your pants and underwear placed in a small heap next to where Maximus knelt, you felt your body warming with arousal, anticipation spreading through your veins as you felt him leaning in, his warm breath on your thighs, then against your cunt.

And then, his tongue, hot, wet, pressed flat against your lips, forcing the tip between then, spreading them apart as he dragged the muscle up and down over your entrance, teasing it as he reached the top. He had been practising, and he’d obviously learned a little bit about anatomy somehow.

“Max… Max, this is… it’s so good…”

He paused for a moment, smiling happily, a sense of pride in his work.

“It is… you taste good… better than anything I’ve eaten out here…”

You gripped at the sheets as he returned to your body, lips enclosing over your pussy as he sucked and lapped, moaning with satisfaction at how you tasted, how you felt against his face, thighs pressed against his cheeks. And with the innocent joy he always held for these intimate moments together, he wondered if you’d let him do this again for his birthday.

#fallout #fallout amazon #finnie writes #fallout fic #fallout tv #fallout tv series #maximus #lucy maclean #fallout maximus

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

Note

Enemies to Loves?? Character doesn't matter I just need my Enemies to lovers fill for my fourth wing hangover

Thin Line

Summary: After the rise of the Empire, you, an unwilling Soldier of the GAR, is reassigned to being Crosshair's handler. You hate him, and you think he hates you. Turns out there's a very thin line between hate and love.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: Reader has a toxic family

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was going to do one of the many event requests that I got, but I got it with inspiration for this, and I love Crosshair, so...ta-dah~

You never wanted to join the military.

You were always a bit too…soft for military life. A bit too quick to tears, a bit too sensitive, not quite forceful enough in your everyday life.

You wanted to be an author, or a teacher, or maybe both. The last thing you wanted was to join the military.

But your parents pushed. And pushed. And pushed.

And you’ve never been very good at telling them no. It’s just easier to do what they want. And they wanted you to continue the family tradition of military service.

So you did. You gave up your dreams, as small as they were, to make your family happy. That’s what family is supposed to do, right?

To be fair, you thought that you were going to get kicked out within six months. You’re really, really not made for this lifestyle. And you probably should have been, but your father was an Admiral and your mother was a Doctor at the most prestigious military hospital in the galaxy, and your older siblings were incredibly high ranked in their respective branches…and you just weren’t.

And then the GAR was dissolved and remade into the Imperial Army, and you thought, now. Now for sure they’ll have to discharge me.

But still, still they kept you. And, much to your blanket distress, it turns out that you're more competent than most of the people you work with.

Which is exactly how you ended up in your current situation.

The first couple of months after the Imperial Army took the place of the GAR were hectic, but as things settled, you found yourself getting reassigned. You are now, officially, Crosshair’s handler.

It’s quite possibly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Are you incapable of following orders?” You ask the much taller man standing across from you, his arms are folded across his chest and he has a smug smirk on his face.

“Not so good at following orders, sweetheart.”

“Then maybe I should trade you in for someone who is,” You counter.

“You won’t. No one is as good as I am.” Crosshair is the best sniper in the Imperial army, and he knows it, damn him.

“You’re an arrogant asshole,” You say pointedly, and his smirk widens, “Fine. You did, somehow, manage to complete your mission. So, well done, I guess. But you’re stinking up my office, so get out.”

He just leans against the doorframe, “My hot water rations.”

You exhale slowly through your nose, “Crosshair, have I ever limited the amount of hot water you can use in the showers?”

“I’m just waiting for you to actually turn into as much of an asshole as you like to pretend to be, sweetheart.”

“Get.”

And then he’s gone, allowing the door to slam shut behind him. How, exactly, he managed to slam a sliding door is beyond you, but you don’t care enough to try and figure it out.

You’re pretty sure you hate him. From the top of his silver head to the tips of his toes.

He’s arrogant and pig-headed, and somehow managed to turn something that was a traditional sweet pet name into an insult. And he seems to take joy out of making your life more miserable, which is something of an achievement in and of itself.

But, even so, you would never replace him with someone else.

Because he actually is as good as he thinks he is. And he does complete every mission that you assign him, and there’s never an excessive loss of life, which you appreciate.

You push your fingers through your hair, and flicker your gaze across the piles of paperwork covering your desk, and then you sigh.

You really should have told your parents to kriff off all those years ago, and just gone to school to be a teacher.

Still, if wishes were fishes-

You sigh deeply, and pull your hair out of the strict bun to pull it into a looser tail at the base of your head, and then reach for the tallest pile of paperwork that needs to be finished.

And then your holo chirps that there’s an incoming call.

You glance at your datapad, and check the number that’s calling in, and then you groan when you see the very familiar number flashing at the top of the screen.

Your Dadmiral is calling.

You sigh one more time, and then press the button on your datapad to answer the call.

“Hi dad,” You say, flickering your gaze to the holo for a split moment, before focusing back on your paperwork.

“Hey kiddo,” Your father is an older man, with hair that’s long since gone gray and a beer belly that he’d have to work at to get rid of. You also know, though you can’t see it through the holo, that his nose is reddened by years of alcohol abuse. “Your hair isn’t in regulation, kid.”

“Ah, so you’re calling as my admiral rather than my dad. Good to know.” You reply tiredly, “What do you need, sir?”

He gazes at you severely, and then sighs, “I need to talk to you about the Dantooine mission.”

You lift your gaze, “Dantooine? That was four months ago.”

“Yes, I know.”

You sigh and open your desk to grab the file he’s talking about, “I know I filled out my paperwork properly-”

“Yes, you’ve always been very diligent about that. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” He shifts so that he’s standing at attention, “It has come to my attention that your sniper only killed the men on the list.”

“...yes?”

“Why did he not kill the other members of the cell?”

“...because they weren’t on the list of people to kill.” You reply flatly, “He followed the orders he was given to the letter.”

Your father sighs, “I recognize that. But I hoped that you realized that what the orders meant was that he was supposed to kill all of them.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Hm…I’ll make sure that your orders are more clear from now on.” Your father says, “Now…how are you?”

“Tired. And busy. So if there’s nothing else-?”

“Ah, yes. Right. Well then, I’ll talk to you later.” The call disconnects and you sigh again. If Crosshair knew just how much shit you had to deal with to keep him safe and alive…

Well, he’d likely never believe you.

No matter. You’ll keep doing what you’re doing because it’s the right thing to do. Not because you like him or anything.

Life continues for you as it always has.

You move from planet to planet, chasing these terrorists. You give Crosshair a list of people he needs to kill, and then you fill out paperwork and move on.

He’s still a dick to you, and you tolerate everything as best as you can.

Still, every now and then, something different happens.

Today, for example, you have a date.

A slightly older soldier asked you out to dinner, and honestly, you need to get out and do something before you rip your hair out, or have a nervous breakdown.

So here you are, dressed in a casual dress and some nice-ish heels with your hair loose for the first time in ages, when the door to your office slides open, “Hey, so-” Crosshair stops mid sentence as he steps into your office, and then he smirks and whistles, “Well now, I didn’t know you were actually a woman under that uniform.”

“You’re a pig, and also, don’t you knock?”

“Guilty, and no.” His gaze drags down your body, an almost lecherous grin on his face, “Where are you going looking so dressed up?”

“If you must know,” You reply with a pointed glare, “I have a date.”

“You?”

You glower at him, “Believe it or not, there are people out there who want to spend time with me.”

“With you, or with your family,” Crosshair asks, smirking as you bristle under his comment, “Sheathe your claws, kitten, I happen to think you look nice.”

“You insult me and then compliment me in the same sentence. Stars, you’re so annoying.” You grumble, “What do you need Crosshair?”

He, openly, drags his gaze down your body again, “Nothing. Just wanted to annoy you, and it worked.”

You exhale sharply, “Wow, I think I actually hate you.”

“Yeah, but you’re far too nice to actually get rid of me unlike some of the other Imps.” Crosshair grins at you, and then spins and he’s gone.

You take a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and when that doesn’t work you take another one. It’s fine. Crosshair just likes getting under your skin, he has no way of knowing that he just picked at your biggest insecurity.

And even if he did, it's not like he would care.

You take another deep breath, and then you leave your office too. Hopefully this date will go well, you could do with someone to talk to who isn’t Crosshair.

Two hours later, you’re back in your office, your face pressed into your arms as you try to recover from the hurt that your date gave you.

Crosshair was right.

He wasn’t interested in you, he was interested in your family, and thought that the easiest way to climb the ranks was by getting close to you. And this isn’t the first time this happened.

In fact, this has happened every single time you’ve tried to go on a date.

The door to your office slides open, and you lift your head slightly. You recognize the armor immediately, “Go away.” You say, your voice muffled by your arms.

“Nah.” Your desk shifts and you lift your head to scowl at Crosshair, “Bad date?”

“You were right. He wanted to use me to rub elbows with my family, congrats. Get out.” You say quietly.

Crosshair doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and then, much to your surprise, you feel his hand on the top of your head, “Did he hurt you?”

“Just emotionally.” You reply.

“...want me to shoot him?”

A muffled laugh falls from your lips, “You can’t shoot someone because they hurt my feelings, Crosshair.”

He scoffs, “Sure I can.”

You lift your head and his hand falls from your hair to your cheek. His touch is hesitant, but he doesn’t pull away. But neither do you, “Honestly, why do you even care?”

“I’m the only one who’s allowed to upset you.” Crosshair replies immediately.

“You are incredibly frustrating.”

“Yeah, my brothers told me that all of the time too.” He says with a shrug.

“Brothers?”

“Batchmates.” Crosshair clarifies, “They’re not with the Empire. They defected.”

You huff, “Lucky them.” Crosshair’s eyebrows shoot up, and you cough, “Uh…I mean-”

He watches you evenly, “Do you want to defect, kitten?”

“...I never wanted to join the military in the first place,” You admit, “I wanted to be a teacher. But because of who my parents are, no one bothered to even try to kick me out. And then the GAR turned into the Imperial Army and I’m actually competent-”

He watches you evenly, and you lean your head into his hand. At some point his thumb started rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, and you don’t know when, but you do know that it’s soothing.

“Do you have any idea how awful this job is?” You blurt, “They keep pressuring me to decommission you, and I won’t do it because as annoying as you are, you actually are as good as you think you are-” You ramble, “And I’ve never been okay with how the clones were treated and-and and…” You wave your hands helplessly, “Damn it, you’re mine! And they don’t get to tell me to throw you away like yesterday’s trash-”

Your words are cut off when his lips crash against yours.

Crosshair’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, but you’re not thinking about that because his hand is in your hair and his tongue is sliding against your lips.

And when he breaks the kiss, you just blink at him, speechless.

“I’m yours, huh?”

Your face burns, “I…well…yes.” You finally say, “You’re mine to protect and…and it’s probably not what you want-”

“Stop telling me what I do or don’t want,” Crosshair interrupts, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, “I’m glad your date went poorly.” He says, “I don’t want other men looking at you, let alone touching you.”

“I don’t belong to you, Crosshair.”

“Wrong. If I’m yours,” His lips trail up your jaw, “Then you’re mine. That’s how it works. And no take backs allowed.”

“God, I hate you.”

“No you don’t, kitten. If you hated me you wouldn’t be letting me do this.” His lips drop to your neck and he bites down, roughly enough you release a yelp.

“You’re actually the worst.”

Crosshair grins at you, “Come with me.”

“...what?”

“We’re leaving. We’ll find some backwater planet where no one’s heard of clones or the Empire, and you can become a teacher and no one will ever make choices for either of us ever again.” Crosshair murmurs against your throat, “And I get to kiss you as much as we both want.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah. Okay.”

Grandmother used to tell you that there was a fine line between love and hate, and when you were a child, you didn’t believe her.

But, as Crosshair drags you to his ship, you’re beginning to understand her.

#star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fanfic #answered asks

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