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sunniskyies · 4 months

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𝐁𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your boyfriend Percy has been at camp all summer, and you’re anxious that he’s moved on since you last saw him 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff with a dash of pining and a sprinkle of fluff !! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k 𝐀/𝐍: Take a wild guess who the woman is (>ᴗ•) ♡

You're picking at your fingers again, a nervous habit Percy always scolds you for. Your hoodie —his hoodie— is soaked through with rain, the weather turned bad now the summer is over.

You've been sitting at the bus stop for hours now, and resorted to pacing to calm your anxious thoughts. It's late now, 9 pm on a Friday. The only other person here is a beautiful woman who has failed to board a single bus in the hour she's been sitting there.

You're on your 467th lap of the ground between two pavement tiles when the woman speaks up.

"What ails you, my darling?" She asks from her perch beneath the narrow lip of the bus stop.

You glance over, hesitant for a second. Is this one of the monsters Percy has talked about? She definitely seems suspicious.

"I'm just nervous to see someone I haven't seen in a while," you say cautiously. The woman delicately raises an eyebrow.

"A boy," you clarify. "My boyfriend."

A smile lights up the woman's face, revealing perfect teeth from behind her soft pink lips. "That's what I thought!" She says, adjusting her floral dress over her knees when a single drop of water hits her ivory skin. She grimaces.

"Please sit in the dry, sweetie. I'll comb out your hair while you tell me everything."

You hesitate again, not wanting Percy's first job after camp to be saving you from a monster. But something in the woman's eyes calls to be trusted. And besides, your hair is a damp, scraggly mess. Do you really want Percy to see you like this?

Of course the gorgeous woman has a literal gold comb in the Prada bag she's stashed beneath the bench, and begins running the fine teeth through your hair when you sit down beside her.

"So? Why are you so troubled?" She prompts after a beat.

You sigh, shifting on the seat. "Well, he's been away all summer at— er, a camp. And, well, I dunno. I guess I'm just worried he's moved on from me," you mumble.

You glance over your shoulder as if seeking approval from the pretty woman. But instead of seeing the blonde ringletted, pale-skinned lady who sat there before, a stunning tan woman (who can only be described as a supermodel) has replaced her.

"Wait— Did you— Weren't you..?" You stammer, eyes wide. The woman just smiles, gently shushing you.

"No, dear. It's just the lighting," she replies.

You want to argue, jump up and run away. But something about her fingers on your hair soothes you like a mother does a baby. You find yourself relaxing, all worries erased.

"So why would he move on from you? You seem very lovely to me, dear. And so pretty," she continues.

You sigh again. "Well, there's this girl. She's gorgeous, I've seen Polaroids." You think back to the scrapbook Percy had shown you last year, a beautiful girl named Annabeth with blonde curls and sun-kissed skin.

"They're like, best friends," you deflate. "And he's really talented, and she is too. I'm just some boring girl from the city he met years ago. He's sure to move on to someone like her. Isn't he?" You fret, looking back at the woman again.

The woman —who now sports luscious auburn curls and crystalline eyes— gives you another sweet, motherly smile.

"No, dear. If I know anything about love," she chuckles, "is that it is not easily swayed by beauty or talent. Love is built on something deeper."

You spin around to face her, drinking in her words. "But what if he has found someone better?" you whisper.

The woman sets the comb aside and clasps your hands with hers, her gaze locked with yours. "My dear, there will always be other people who come and go in our lives. But true love is irreplaceable. If Percy truly loves you, he will see you uniquely and fully— as you."

You nod understandingly, and it’s only later that evening that you realise you had never told her Percy’s name.

Suddenly, your intent gaze is pulled away by the sound of an approaching vehicle, and you watch as a shoddy public bus pulls into the stop with a 'splash' and a 'thunk' as it disturbs a large rain-filled pothole.

Through the window seeping warm light into the dark evening, you can make out the silhouette of a dark-haired boy. He stands from his seat and starts walking down the alley.

"That's him!" You squeak, turning back to the lady to point him out.

But the spot beside you is empty, cold and unoccupied as if she was never there.

But you don't have time to wonder because the doors of the bus are beginning to open. You stand up quickly, the nerves returning to your body.

"Trust me," you swear a woman's voice whispers in your ear, but you're distracted by Percy stepping off the bus and rushing over to you.

He sweeps you off your feet, spinning you around and around till you giggle for him to stop. He sets you down gently, green eyes dilated and sickly sweet when they meet yours.

"I missed you so much!" He says, voice filled with genuine affection, and you feel every shred of doubt leave your body.

You laugh, still dizzy. "Percy! I missed you too!"

You finally get to kiss him, and he kisses you back eagerly. He doesn't seem to care about being soaked out here in the rain, every inch of him turned to you with rapt attention.

When you pull away, Percy reaches up to brush a wet strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice brimming with adoration. "I missed this face."

You lean into him, settling into the arm he wraps around you as you begin to walk back to his place. "How was camp? I got your letters— how many people did you kill?" You ask, holding one of his bags with a spare arm.

He laughs, beginning from the start of this year's adventure. You stare up at him attentively as he talks, taking in every detail. He's right, you've missed this face.

As the two of you walk away, you can't help but look back to the bus stop once more, wondering if the woman had been a figment of your imagination.

There, on the seat, lies a gold comb.

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

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tiyoin · 1 year

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♡ 🐰 wait, you’re a girl?! ✩ೃ°

synopsis ───◌ where the twst guys find out the ramshackle perfects secret

characters ┈┈◌ jack howl ♡ leona kingscholar ♡ ruggie bucchi

cw ──♡⃝ cursing, leona’s overblot, ruggie basically black mailing reader 😭, questionable bonus,

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

You smelt sweet. Yeah, that’s a weird thing to say but it’s true. When you walked past him in the hallways, he noticed this… sweet, almost refreshing scent that softly entered his nose.

Now he isn’t saying he doesn't like it, but he is saying that it’s odd for a guy to have such a dainty smell, and Jack's a smart guy. So he has 2 possible hypotheses of why you smell like that.

You're from another world and things might be different there

You're a weirdo and he should avoid you at all costs

So if you see Jack eyeing you, or just tensing up around you, just know you made his radar.

Whoops🤷🏻

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

He reluctantly became your friend, let's get that clear. After the spell-drive incident, he couldn't seem to shake you, tweedle dee, and tweedle dum off his back. So there you three stayed like leeches.

It was only when Ace and Deuce got those anemone things on their heads that Jack truly joined your band of misfits. But that's not the point.

The moment when he found out about your little secret was when you were both hiding under Azul’s desk after trying to get to the contracts. You were squished up against either side of the dark oak deck when Jack couldn’t stop thinking about how unnaturally short you were. I mean, hey he doesn't judge, Heartslabyul’s dorm leader is short and Jack respects him. But he never noticed it until now, with his thigh completely overwhelming yours in both size and mass.

Or maybe he’s never noticed how small your hands are? Must come with the size he guessed. But the one thing that truly bothered him was your face, it was soft and delicate, so much chubbier and fuller than any guy he’s seen… and your smell… it almost reminds him of…

His eyes shot open as the door to Azul’s office opened.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

It’s been weird lately. Besides the fact that Ace and Deuce are busy working slaving away at the Monstro, Jack has also started to act more… like Jack around you. Always hovering, carrying things, and nagging. Nag nag nag nag! ‘Y/n don't do this, y/n don't do that, y/n you'll get hurt, don't go in there it's dangerous!’ He was treating you like a damsel in distress when Ace and Deuce were the real ones.

Yet here he is babying you while treating them like normal! It’s gotten so bad that those two plus Grim started raising eyebrows whenever Jack did something for you.

So you decided to do what all smart people do; confront him.

So you do.

You pull him from his track practice and bring him under one of the trees that acts as shade for the runners whenever they're about to pass out from heat exhaustion.

Of course, you were trying to think about the correct way to go about this, because being in a school full of boys, especially teenage boys in mid-puberty, you had to learn to pick your words carefully.

“Why have you been acting weird lately?”

Great start.

Jack denies it, claiming this is how he treats all his friends, yet when you peek behind him to his low swinging tail, and back up to his cherry-sprinkled face, you know you’ve caught him in the act.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair to try and claim even a little of your nerves. “You know, don't you?”

He was silent before he spoke. “I do”

You bit your lip, the two of you unable to keep eye contact any longer due to the embarrassment of the whole situation. There was a pause, yet none of you said something. You both just let the cool autumn breeze cool your nerves before you spoke. Yet Jack beat you to it.

“I know you're wondering when I found out…” You nodded hesitantly. “Well, I’ve had my suspicions the first time I met you-“

“Was it my height?” You asked, but Jack quickly dismissed your guess which sidetracked him to commemorate Riddle and a kid named Epel.

“They’re both short but respectable, hard-working guys. So I thought the same about you. Being a magicless human in a school full of aspiring magicians can be hard, especially with no family or friends to back you up. Though I'll admit, at first I pegged you as a fool looking for trouble more than respectable- until the spell-drive tournament that is.” He added on quickly, not wanting to increase the raise in your brow.

“But I found out when we were in Azul’s office… I never noticed how soft you were. How… squishy you were”

You snorted “Squishy?” You repeated, causing the light flush on his cheeks to worsen. “Hey, this is embarrassing enough as it is! Just- let me finish talking alright!” He growled. Though that didn’t scare you as you kept silently laughing at his unusual choice of wording.

“Only then did it click for me that you were a girl.”

You nodded thoughtfully, looking up at the half-naked tree, a leaf fell and fluttered to the ground, before another leaf followed, and another, and another.

Yet kept your eyes on the tree, on the leaves as you kept thinking about everything he just told you.

“I’ll keep your secret you would like me to, and I apologize for how I’ve been treating you…”

Your eyes were still on the tree “But?”

“But.” He completed staring at you despite the far-away look you had. “I won't change how I’ve been treating you these past couple of weeks.”

Your eyes waivered to his as a cautious tone of curiosity laced your tone. “And why is that?”

“Because” He breathed in, searching for the right words to say, searching for the proper way to say the undeniable fact in a way that won't drive you away, or make you laugh.

“You’re not from here, you have no family or background, no nothing. You're not a beastman, let alone have magic. So there’s no way for you to protect yourself in an all-boys school. It isn't safe for you. If I know you're a girl the others will figure it out too, and where will that leave you? What will happen if the wrong people; Azul, find out? If we weren't friends” He made a face while saying it, like the word was foreign to him “I wouldn’t be doing this. But you are, so you can't stop me.”

“Jack for crying out loud! I’ve dealt with two house warden’s overblots! I can handle a few horny guys!”

He sighed, and his ears twitched. “You can’t change my mind.” That was all he said before he walked away.

Achievement unlocked! You just gained a wolf bodyguard!

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happened after? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

You’ve gained a shadow is what happens next. Jack is practically all over you to the point where Grim and the Aduece combo felt a wee bit threatened. Claiming that he better not be trying to steal you away. But it’s fine, you’re actually kind of grateful (though you’d never admit it out loud)

People aren’t giving you scrutinizing looks or curious gazes anymore, instead, they're trying to avoid your gaze in fear of the brooding cc 6-foot buff freshman that follows you.

He has calmed down a bit, having someone consider your opinion was nice for a change. You carry your own stuff and take care of your own problems, unless it’s on a top shelf he can easily reach.

Sometimes you both brainstorm ways to mask your scent so you don't attract any eyes and noses. And the solution was scent blockers, usually reserved for female beastmen's heat. You were deemed the acceptance (Those things are like fucking horse tranquilizers)

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Who? All he knew was that you were probably gonna mess up his peaceful school life. If being from another world didn't make that evident, then you and your pussycat almost burning down the joint did.

He was already getting a headache from all the new scents and loud chatter, so he just wanted to go back to his dorm where his Egypt cotton-laced mistress was waiting.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

He would make it seem like he found out all on his own, but in reality, he overheard you say it yourself. Well, not outright yourself, but it was in an awkward- oh sevens that doesn't even cover the severity of how embarrassing the conversation was.

Jack’s mom somehow found out about your little secret (looks at Jack)

note, he slipped up when going on break, how might you ask? He forgot to shower and wash his clothes so when his mom confronted him about the new smell 👀 all he could do was curse silently under his breath.

yes there are scent blockers but c'mon, how effective can those things be all the time

Anyways! His mother created a feminine hygiene care package for you! Packed full of feminine hygienic products, deodorants, and razors, albeit a bit cheap but you couldn't complain.

Back to Leona, Ruggie had begged (bribed) him to at least do some of his house warden duties, like for example; making sure everyone got back safely from break, and that they were situated in their dorms. And after a hard day's work, he was on his way back to his dorm for some shut-eye when he heard a high-pitched squeal, one that made his ears twitch angrily.

Jack.

He had already checked in with the freshman and assumed he just had a girlish scream despite his masculine appearance.

“Oh my god Jack I love you so much!”

Leona’s head snapped towards the freshman’s door because what the fuck was that??

Girls weren’t allowed on campus, let alone in dorm rooms.

Leona groaned, a gloved hand sliding down his face as he groaned again, deeper. Great. More work for him. It was too much work to get Crowley involved so he’ll just warn Jack, sternly.

He did have to give kudos to the young freshman, because the last time someone tried bringing their girlfriend in, they were caught at the magic mirror and given detention. Of course, Jack could be given the same treatment, but he was feeling oddly generous… He stopped thinking as a slimy feeling crept up his back.

As previously stated, Leona has amazing hearing, if not the best hearing in the school- and he takes pride in that, he really, truly does.

Another thing Leona took pride in; he was hard to surprise. His aloof personality cracks for no one. Sure, there may be a quick eye raise, or maybe even a slight pause if he's talking. Other than that, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.

So when Leona was surprised to the point where he whipped his head back towards the freshman’s door again, he was glad no one was there. Especially Ruggie.

“Y/N please be a little quieter, someone could be outside!”

All else was unimportant as Leona stood outside the door, frozen, hand just about to land on the door before it fell limply to his side.

There was a few seconds' pause before he backed away and slowly slinked back to his room to process what he just found out.

(He was conflicted because a girl helped stop 3 overblots.

But then again, Faerina’s wife could get him out of his room…)

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

You were in the botanical gardens helping Crewel pick rare plants for next class. It was a nice arrangement if you do say so yourself; help Crewel prepare for class, grade papers and get alone time to study for your worst subject.

So the chance to explore the gardens after staying in stuffy classrooms all day was a Hail Mary for you.

Until you stepped on a snake.

Shrieking like a banshee, you heard the snake protest as it darted into the bush. Scrambling a few feet away, you kept your eyes locked onto the bush, waiting for the snake to fly out and exact its revenge.

That would have been the better scenario anyways. Instead, you were met with a towering lion beastman, tail in hand and his ears in flight mode.

Shit. It was Jack’s house warden. Leona.

After hearing horror stories, you knew no matter how low you bowed or how profusely you apologized, you were royally screwed.

“Oi, I’d watch where you're going if I were you” He stepped closer. “Cause you don't know what someone could do to a herbivore like you” He stepped closer as you took a step backward.

“So small and soft… not an ounce of muscle on ya. Makes one think if you're even a guy at all” He forced you to look up like he was challenging you not to.

“I’m not a girl!” your eyes widened in horror as his smirk deepened.

Uh oh. Voice crack.

Yeah puberty, and all, but you were well past the age of voice cracks.

“You should really keep your voice down” he whispered, leaning in on you. His breath rustled your hair which tickled your ear sending a sharp shiver up your spine and to your brain, sending it into a red alert. It was a whole chain reaction just from his breath. You haven't felt this pathetic in a while.

“As you never know who could be listening”

And with that, he walked away.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happened after? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Nothing. Literally nothing.

You were skittish around him, anxious about the thought of him spilling your secret to the whole school. But little did you know, Leona did not care. Not in the slightest. At most, he's probably impressed.

I mean with 3 overblots under your belt, you were fine. So there’s no need for him to keep an eye out on you. Nope, none at all.

It’s all the same, as you and Leona barely interacted before so why would that change now? You already got a bodyguard, and who was he to impose his morals on you?

…yet that doesn't stop his sharp gaze from following you whenever you crossed paths.

Where he was from, girls were fierce, dominant, and controlling, a perfect example of that was his sister-in-law. And of course, he knew not every girl was like that, as not everywhere has the same traditions as the sunset savanna. But you were a magicless girl in an all-boys school. And that didn't sit right with him. (No matter how much he tried to ignore it)

He’s basically your convenient savior, popping up if Jack isn't around and claiming he was napping there and you were disturbing him.

Don’t be surprised when there's an unmarked package on your steps filled with a few months supply of premium scent blockers. And don't bother confronting Leona cause he’ll deny it.

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ first impression ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Yawn, just another extra.

He met you during the spell drive arc when you stopped him from pushing Trey down the stairs. You smelt nice, was all he remembered before scampering away. But as nice as you smelt you made him nervous and he couldn’t understand why.

I mean, he injured heartsbyul's vice house warden, he’s stolen from men thrice his size, and he’s friends with Leona for crying out loud! All of this would make one think he had balls of steel and answered to no one.

Except for Leona.... and his grandma of course… Well I mean, sometimes his sisters too but that's it! Really!

Women in the Savannah scare the shit out of him, all strong, dominant and all that junk made him shiver.

Ruggie is observant. So the fact that you could inflict the same kind of caution women give him... Strange. He’ll have to keep an eye on you.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ how he found out ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Hehehhehehehehhe

Unfortunately for Ruggie, he's going to be a victim to a trope, sorry not sorry. During Leona’s overblot your legs were shackled in the sand, unable to move, and unable to flee from the stalking lion.

It was just the 3 of you, the rest of your friends outside the swirling sand tornado, standing there helplessly.

Foolish herbivore was all Ruggie could think as you clawed up your ankles, feverishly looking between the house warden and your trapped feet.

Your eyes were wide with fear.

Oh.

An epiphany.

You reminded him of him, that's why he felt uncomfortable with you. You reminded him of a younger, scrawnier self. One that did anything and everything to survive, one that had to conserve food and the little money he had so he could've able to live. One that had nobody but his grandma and a few siblings.

Just a boy from the slums living off of stolen leftovers. Covered in rags, dirt, and bruises. A boy who hoped, dreamed, and prayed for a way out.

A boy whom you shared those same hopeless shimmering eyes with.

Fuck.

Ruggie didn’t know what he should do. Well, he lied, he did but he didn't know if he should do it. But as Leona hit the 10-meter mark Ruggie made a break for it

His legs carried him as fast as the sand would let him, and endless curses spilled from his lips as he saw Leona’s head turn in his direction. Shouting something, he threw a scalding hot gust of sand his way. Gritting his teeth as the searing grains of sand were pelted at him He kept repeating to himself: It was better than someone dying.

He didn't know why he chose to voluntarily go back into the jaws of death; he barely escaped thanks to Riddle.

Maybe it was those damned eyes of yours.

Tackling you onto the sand dome, you both just missed death's door as you both grunted at the sagging impact.

As much as you're both grateful for skating by the sandstorm, that couldn't bring attention away from the uh… obvious cushion.

“ Y-you're a girl!?”

“Not the time Ruggie!”

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ the confrontation ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Basically a cat and mouse game. You spot Ruggie in the cafeteria, and Ruggie creates a clever way to lose you, may it be a crowd of people, laugh with me, or a ‘happy little accident’. He wants nothing to do with you so if you would just leave him alone that’d be great.

But of course you keep persisting, and eventually you catch up with him and corner him in the hallway.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“Good morning to you, too perfect. If you would excuse me, I have to get Leona's homework from Trein, then do my own. So I really don't have a lot of time-“

“Then I’ll join you “ You smiled, grabbing his jacket sleeve before walking towards Trein’s room. It was foolish of you to assume it would be that easy, he’s a sneaky hyena after all.

Retracting his arms from his jacket, he expertly shimmied out of it like an octopus from a jar. He smiled as you turned around glaring at him, his jacket dangling from your clenched fist.

“Sorry, perfect, but I’d rather not have this talk” He shrugged before walking away. He was free, the sunlight spilled through the dirtied glass windows and onto the walkway of the hallway, highlighting his path to freedom.

“Not so fast Ruggie Bucchi! You get back here!”

And just like that the gates to heaven closed and he was dragged back down to earth. “Shit” He whispered, already starting into a sprint as he heard you thundering footsteps behind him. He felt like Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk, only he was Jack running away from the giant (you) who's ready to eat him alive for stealing his golden goose. (Over exaggeration, you just wanted to talk)

With lingering people in the hallways, he was able to disappear a few times, or purposely put them in your way. Yet each and every time you found him. No matter how hard he tried to lose you, you caught up. What was this a horror movie?

Finally, the hallway ended and he was trapped with no escape. You were stalking towards him, like a predator who had just found its prey.

“Ruggie I just want to talk” You put your hands up in surrender. “That’s it. I want to talk about what happened during Leona’s over blot”

Ruggie wanted to smack himself. God was he stupid. Not even once had he considered using ‘laugh with me on you’. Why? He wasnt sure himself. There were a few theories that popped through his head, but he had no time to entertain them as you were less than 2 meters away.

“Oh, real mature ruggie”

He let out the breath he was holding, the clatter of the lockers was heard as he straightened himself up. Rubbing the ‘dust’ from his knees he just looked at you. As he started to make his way towards you.

You couldn't read him. Did he have a face of relief, conflict, worry? You weren't sure. But when he passed you in your frozen state, all he said was:

“You really think I’d tell people? Really think that low of me huh” It was rhetorical.

By the time he was far away into the hallway, you were unfrozen. Stumbling a bit as you turned to him still walking. “Though my silence comes with a price!”

Ugh great. At this point you’d rather have him tell people

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ what happens next? ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

I wanna say he’d tease you but I mean… woman… No, he isn’t afraid of you! He knows you’re not going to be as rough or intense as the ladies back home, as you’re no beast-man, especially not a hyena beastman.

So there’s going to be a bit of distance between you 2. I mean, there already was to begin with, cause he never met you or talked to you before the spell drive tournament situation.

But after that, he’ll probably mess with you a bit. Not a lot like how he would with others, but a good enough amount to where you interact weekly. Like he’ll cut you in line with a cheeky smile, or he’ll pluck a particular sandwich out of your hand and hide among the masses as you (grim) yell out curses.

He will use your situation against you ngl. He would shamelessly dangle it over your face in exchange for something, mainly food.

But I know he wouldn't do anything too callous or too mean.

Though he does keep the promise of ‘silence coming with a price’ and usually that price is an extra pair of hands or food. So now you've got 3 mouths to feed. Great.

𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔! I originally wrote this for Jack but I thought it was too ooc. Then I thought about Leona but then realized he would only do this in fanon.

Your back was slammed against a tree, Jack hovering over you as you struggled in his grip. His hand encased both of yours while his other gripped your hip, keeping you flat against the tree. His leg was bent awkwardly, pinning you against the tree at an angle that should make him fall, but he didn't. No matter how hard you tried, the leg that kept him braced didn’t budge. Not even an inch.

“Try to escape” Was all he said through your struggling and wiggling. Yet no matter how hard you tried pushing, shoving, kicking, or flailing away from him- nothing worked. You were stuck. Never once did he stop looking at you; through you as you grew more and more desperate to prove yourself.

But he was a wolf beastman, and you were a teenage girl.

And soon, as expected, your struggling slowly stopped, eyes downcast as you laid there, still, in his arms before he set you down.

Your hands rushed up over your chest as you struggled to understand the situation, to understand why he did that.

“I’m only a freshman” he spoke quietly “I don’t even have control of my magic yet, just think about what other guys would do if they found out. So please” You looked up at him, lashes heavy with locked in tears. His face was soft, gentle even which only confused your heart more.

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neoplatinum · 3 months

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we meet again | huh 'jennifer' yunjin

summary: yunjin and reader go on their non-refundable anniversary trip...as exes

pairing: ex gf!yunjin x ex!reader

themes: exes to lovers, miscommunication, discussions of needs, angst, fluff, suggestive-ish, paris!, sprinkles of humor here and there

wc: 4.5k

you stare into your cup of coffee as you wait for your plane to be ready to take off, the warm coffee is a nice contrast from the coldness you can feel from the woman next to you: your ex of four months yunjin.

she's been all frowny and defensive ever since you picked her up for the trip. her huffing and puffing and crossed arms and legs as she looks away from you.

you haven't spoken to her in months until you got an email that the trip you planned for your anniversary with yunjin sent a reminder email. you cursed your old self for setting up an auto-email service to notify her of the trip too.

then she texted you:

jennifer huh (ex): did you plan an anniversary trip for us?

you call her immediately, knowing you have to explain what happened.

"hi jen, and yes i did plan this as an anniversary trip." you begin rubbing your forehead as you try and weasel your way out of this awkward conversation.

"okay...it says here it's non-refundable." yunjin has always been quick at reading between the lines and you practically prayed for her to miss that portion.

"ah yes, well it is non-refundable." you fiddle around with a stress ball as she talks.

"so are we going?" yunjin cuts you off.

"what?" you sputter out, the stress ball that's been in your hand turning being smashed as small as possible. you begin pacing back and forth and even end up stubbing your toe. "fuck!"

"are you okay?" yunjin stops in the middle of her explanation when you curse through the phone. you mutter a quick yes and she continues, "well its my ticket, and i want to go. were you planning on going with anyone else?" yunjin goes silent.

"well no, maybe my sister but you would still have to transfer the ticket." you explain and sit back down, damn that pinky toe hurts so much.

"so it is my ticket." yunjin continues and you nod through the phone, "okay, i am going then." you groan out loud and yunjin begins calling you dramatic.

"whatever yunjin, i'll pick you up for the airport, i'll talk to you later."

leading to you both now sitting by the airport benches, both of your luggage separating you by a seat. all around you are families or couples headed for paris, when all you can think about is how soon this will be over.

yunjin is sporting her long leather jacket and her newly dyed red hair, which if you were being honest scared you when you first saw her. now all you can do is stare at how well it works for her, even near cursing her for still making your heartbeat after dumping you.

"stupid red." you mutter to yourself as you swirl your cup.

"what was that?" yunjin takes off one side of her headphones and leans into you.

"oh, just nice red hair." she nods at that and turns back to her music, plugging her headphones in. you scoff at the audacity of her. with that you turn back to watching planes, and hope that this three day trip ends quickly.

you're settling into your seat and ready to plug your earbuds in for this flight when you notice the couple next to you giggling loudly while cuddling each other, rolling your eyes at them two.

the girl looks at you and yunjin who has taken the window seat, "are you guys going to paris for your honeymoon?" she asks you while the guy nods excitedly at you.

"uhh, no we're not." you let out a nervous chuckle as the two begin going on a long conversation (very one-sided by the way) about how in love they are, and how they're going to paris for their honeymoon/anniversary. all you can do is sheepishly smile along and hope their monologue ends soon (it doesn't). yunjin chuckles next to you and you kick her subtly to get her to stop.

while you suffer through the long monologue of how they met, how many cats they raise and even drama about their friends, yunjin finds it hilarious yet sad, because honestly, you two could've been that couple, had you two not broken up.

-- day 1

"gosh! they talked my ear off, you know i downloaded like five different movies and a bunch of playlists for that flight, only to not watch a SINGLE movie." you begin venting about the couple to which yunjin finds amusing and pokes fun at you.

"that's on you for not knowing how to exit a conversation." she smiles as you both get a cab to the hotel.

once you've placed your luggage into the trunk and set off, you continue, "listen, i've always been horrible at exiting those situations, didn't help that they were both so enthusiastic."

"i know, it's how i got your number, remember?" yunjin says and you stop for a second, thinking about the first time you met. It was at a concert where she was next to you, talking your ear off about how much she loved the artist. she came alone because none of her friends listened to the artist. you, being the kind soul you were, let her talk to you through the whole concert, even letting her talk through your favorite song.

"yeah, i guess so." you turn away from yunjin in the cab, with the rest of the ride turning quiet.

"roses on the bed, and a single king bed?" yunjin questions as you enter the hotel suite. you begin to heat up, remembering how you specifically requested rose petals in the shape of a heart and champagne in an ice bath, along with towels folded into swans facing each other and kissing. god, the things you do when you're in love.

"ah! well, it was for our anniversary so i made a special request." you say really hoping she couldn't hear you.

"well, i'm glad i came, now that i can see this, i can make fun of you for being so cheesy," she says as she grabs the champagne from the metal bucket. "damn, champagne's expensive too. how much did you spend on this trip?"

she pops the champagne cork and starts pouring the golden liquid into two champagne flutes. passing one of the flutes to you.

"too much, had to dip into my savings," you say as you think about the credit card bill, a full body shiver running up your spine just at the thought.

she laughs and smiles at you, "well, consider me lucky."

you cough and try not to think about how different this trip would've been had you two not separated.

"i'm going to go wash up." yunjin puts her flute down and starts digging through her suitcase. you nod settle into one of the armchairs and turn on the hotel tv.

the shower turns on and with that you try to quiet your heart, constantly reassuring yourself that you will get through this trip and be able to be back at home away from an ex you're still in love with.

"what did i get myself into?" you groan and close your eyes, letting the sleep overtake you.

"hey...hey wake up." yunjin gently shakes your arm as you wake up from your nap. you groan and mumble incoherent thoughts.

"how long have i been asleep?" the grogginess is still settling into your bones, you open your eyes to the sight of yunjin wearing more casual clothes but still looking effortlessly beautiful with her wavy red hair and adorable glasses perched on her nose.

"long enough, i'm hungry, let's get dinner." she says and you nod, feeling the hunger from not eating on the plane and immediately falling asleep in the hotel.

outside, the sun has started to set, people are chatting and bright lights are adorning the streets. people are lively and there's even buskers playing violin and guitars, enticing the people to spare a few coins for their astounding performance.

you trail behind yunjin, watching the way she absorbs into the parisian night, with her film camera in hand and a smile adorning her face. it makes you yearn, yearn for another universe where you're hers once more. but to also yearn for answers of why she dumped you all those months ago.

"let's go in this one." she turns around and you're snapped out of your thoughts, she points at the restaurant and you follow her in. the smell of delicious food and the warm atmosphere is making you more hungry.

"right this way." your server brings you to your booth. and you seat yourself in front of yunjin, honestly something you haven't done in so long, that it's like you're falling in love all over again. the warm yellow lamp hanging over the booth makes her skin glow, and not to mention just her in general has your knees weak.

instead of staring at her like a fool, you try to focus on the menu in front of you. it works well because after a few glances at the mostly french menu, you're beyond confused with what to order. eyebrows furrowing and biting your nails at the french words.

"are you ready to order?" the waiter stands before you and before you can get out a word asking what these dishes are yunjin is quickly ordering her dinner in french and you sit there anxious.

"and for you?" the waiter turns to you.

"uh, this one?" you point at the menu and show him, he nods taking quick note of the orders before leaving.

you're back to the awkwardness of not having a menu in front of you to distract you from the beauty that is yunjin.

"so....how are you doing? dating anyone?" you start, trying to break the ice. you fiddle with your thumbs and avoid her gaze as she processes the questions you have thrown at her.

"are you kidding me? that's how you are going to start the conversation?" she scoffs at your lame attempt at having a serious conversation.

"what? i think those are reasonable questions." you mumble to yourself, feeling embarrassed you start drinking the water next to you.

"fine. i am doing fine and no, i am not dating anyone." she crosses her arms and glares at you from across the table.

"cool cool...." you trail off, trying to watch other people and feeling a little giddy when yunjin said she wasn't dating anyone.

the waiter returns with a basket of bread and butter, also refilling water cups and smiling at you both before leaving quickly. it doesn't go unnoticed that he keeps eyeing yunjin and smiling at her throughout the interaction.

"what about you?" yunjin starts with a slice of bread in her mouth.

"oh me, no not dating anymore, of course not." you let the words tumble out of your mouth, forgetting how you are trying to keep your walls up around yunjin.

"what do you mean by 'of course not'?" she questions as she spreads more butter onto her baguette.

you also grab a slice of bread and start smearing it with butter, thinking of ways to exit this topic as smoothly as possible, "just you know...not there."

she nods and you can see that she wants to prod more into why, but the waiter shows up with both your dishes in hand.

"for you madam," he places her beef bourguignon in front of her. meanwhile placing your seafood pasta in front of you. "and for you."

"shit..." you mumble as you stare at your dish, yunjin sighs but lets out an amused smile at the sight.

"of course you managed to order a seafood dish because you didn't understand french." she laughs at you, and all you can do is feel even more embarrassed from how this trip is going. "let's switch."

yunjin trades plates with you, your heart warms when she remembers your seafood allergy. you thank her sheepishly and begin digging into your dish. "jen! this is delicious!" you exclaim with a piece of beef in your mouth.

she smiles at you warmly and takes a quick photo of you, making your cheeks warm at the sentiment, remembering her habit of taking photos of you when she found you cute.

the waiter returns this time, but you look at him confused because you haven't ordered anything else.

"hello madam," he starts while leaning on the booth by yunjin's side, showing off his pearly white smile and trying to be suave, "how are you enjoying paris?"

"it's lovely here, thank you for asking." yunjin starts, you can only watch as the two engage in conversation, making you more and more quiet as time passes.

they speak about parisian culture and even share a few phrases in french that you definitely could not understand. you end up only focusing on your dish until he leaves much later. yunjin looks back at you and is confused by the switch in your demeanor.

yunjin goes quiet at the sight of you so down, so she also begins quietly eating her (your) seafood pasta, and as the time dwindles to the end. the waiter returns with the bill and a napkin that he slips to yunjin, it doesn't take a genius to understand what he gave her.

you huff angrily as you pay for the dinner. and yunjin follows you out of the restaurant and disposes of the napkin in front of you. she turns to you with her hand open and waiting for yours. you take it as you both stroll down the streets of paris with full bellies and a noticeably happier mood.

-- day 2

yunjin has managed to convince you (you really don't know how) to go and get caricatures of the both of you for "memories". you groaned at the idea, but there you sat in the small ratty chair in front of the french artist, and waited for this quick drawing. after a few quick minutes, the artist hands you the drawing, showcasing a funny imagery of yunjin stomping your head to the ground as your relationship.

"hey! you can't draw that!" you exclaim as you go over the painting, you can't lie though, the guy was talented.

yunjin just laughs and drops euros into his hand before dragging you away from the chairs. "don't take it too seriously, it's just a drawing." she takes the drawing from your hands before stuffing it into her purse and folding her arms with yours.

"so, what should we do today?" she says to steer you away from thinking about the drawing.

"well actually, i had an itinerary ready for this trip," fishing your phone out of your pocket, you begin listing places that you wanted to take yunjin to. "the louvre?"

she stops her feets and her jaw drops and you can see her happiness just overflowing.

"yes yes yes! you know me too well, lifelong dream to see the mona lisa." she says and you smile, remembering that's why you put it on your itinerary, and soon you're flagging down a cab to head to the louvre.

god, you're never getting over her at this point. you try not to dwell on that thought and instead let things come as they are.

she's busy capturing photos of the mona lisa and other pieces, while you are capturing memories of her in your mind. taking slow steps behind her as she reads through the description of each piece that intrigues her.

she's gorgeous in her dark green leather coat, red hair flowing down her back with her trusty film camera looped around her wrist. she looks like she belongs in an art museum and you're left wondering if you can ask the art curators to put a picture of her as a piece.

once you reach the end of the museum, you begin to realize there really hasn't been any piece that has intrigued you to look at, even when yunjin was admiring the mona lisa, all you could focus on were her gorgeous eyes.

that day, you hope that you can always make her happy, even if she no longer is yours.

"of course we have to go to see the eiffel tower, i don't care that it's cheesy and cliche, we HAVE to go." she explains to you as she's touching up her makeup again. the two of you returned to the hotel after a long day of exploring local attractions, but now yunjin is explaining that you two definitely need to go despite how tired you are.

while she goes on and on about the importance of a paris trip including eiffel tower pictures, you try to keep your eyes open. the warmth of the jacket that you still have on, swallowing you.

"okay okay, we should go." you get up and start rubbing at your eyes, even letting out loud yawns as you put on your shoes. yunjin finally takes a look at you and starts to feel bad for pushing you to do so much today.

"you look tired, we can go another time?" she starts, feeling embarrassed.

you grab a hold of the wall as you tuck the back of the shoe over your sock, "not at all, let's go!"

you look tired, eyes lower than usual. with a stretch and a neck crack, you look more energized and ready to take on the night.

"let's go!" you exclaim, opening your palm for her to hold onto. she can only smile and think about how sweet it is that you are trying to do activities that she wants to do.

"okay, let's go." she responds, your hand wraps around hers tightly as you both get out of the car and walk through the crowd to get closer to the eiffel tower.

while yunjin stares at the little lights adorning the eiffel tower, sparkling like the stars in the sky, you try and take discreet photos of her. thinking about how you are basically in an alternate universe that exists only you and yunjin, and soon reality will return with you alone and single. these photos will remain to remind you that this trip wasn't a dream, what little you have to cling onto.

she's enjoying the night breeze and the liveliness of the people around her, but you're focused on her. she's also capturing photos of the eiffel tower but taking time to snap photos of the people around her. until her camera lands on you, snapping a photo of you, taking a photo of her.

then you both move away from your cameras and look at each other, and time feels like it stops when you both just admire each other. her eyes become glossy and tears are flowing down her cheek.

you make a quick dash to hug her, holding her tightly. you feel her lay her head on your shoulder and you can feel her body wrack into yours, with quiet sobs and she wraps around you like she'll lose you too.

it feels like the world is crashing around you two, with her grabbing onto your jacket and pinching it so hard. you start rubbing her hair in the motion that you know will bring her comfort, as it has done many times before.

you must've been there for a long time, because people are looking at you two in sympathy, a traveling florist even hands you a free rose to cheer you up. you immediately slip the rose into her pocket. and she stops hugging onto you to see the rose in her breast pocket. she smiles a little, and with a shaky voice, "let's go back to the hotel please."

you nod and hold her hand as you two take the long way back. her hand is still very much holding onto yours tightly. and by the time that you two are back in the room, she drops onto the bed and taps the be urging you to join.

you slip off your shoes and jacket and settle on the bed, facing yunjin. she twirls the rose between her fingers and finally looks at you.

"do you know why i broke up with you?" she whispers, and your body has frozen up, yunjin kept the break up very simple. a single 'let's break up.' over coffee and then she left.

"i don't." you whisper back.

"do you want to know?" she whispers back.

"yes, i really do." you sit up and watch her thinking for a while.

"i broke up with you because i didn't feel like you loved me anymore. whenever we hung out it never felt like you cared anymore, you were even inconsiderate at times and i think, no, i believed that you fell out of love with me."

you nod, but each word cracks your heart a little more, thinking about how wrong each word feels. it simply wasn't true, you never stopped loving her and the guilt of making her feel this way makes you want to vomit.

"this whole trip, i feel like i saw the old you again, the you that fell in love with me and showered me with attention." she continues her monologue and breathes harder at the emotions that were being kept at bay. "earlier, when you were taking photos of me and i caught you, it was exactly like our first date, it hurt so bad..." and by now she's sobbing and you're sobbing and it's all just a big mess.

"it hurts so bad that now i know you never fell out of love with me. that i made a mistake by breaking up with you and we've been months apart when we could've had this happy anniversary together." she continues with tears in her eyes and she's holding you close. alternating between crying and talking.

you take in the words openly, understanding the position that you've put her in and how hurt she was by your lack of attention. you can't even deny it either, those last weeks before the breakup felt like a rift between the two of you, neither knowing how to go forward. with yunjin making the final and unfortunate decision of dumping you.

"jen, you mean everything to me, and i'm so beyond sorry if it feels as if i never prioritized you." you are also trembling in her hold as she listens to you, nodding to your words every so often. "i never and mean never fell out of love with you. i'm sorry that it took a vacation to figure this out too."

she stops completely and holds your face in her hands as she completely dives herself into a passionate kiss. searing her lips against yours and pushing you into the bed more.

"you're mine." yunjin speaks in between kisses.

"yours." you move your hands into her hair and pull her close, bodies molding into one as the night goes on.

-- day 3

three quick knocks disturb you from your sleep, you rub your eyes and open them to the harsh rays of the windows.

"cleaning service!" you could hear outside the room, and you examine yourself. naked as ever and clothes all sprawled around, yunjin dead asleep on the other side of the bed.

"shit!" you run to the closet and grab a bathrobe and quickly tie it around yourself as you rush to the door. finally giving one glance at the bird's nest of hair, you pat down the hair as much as you can before opening the door slightly.

"hi! um, we don't need cleaning right now, maybe later?" you ask worriedly, the lady eyes your bathrobe and your hair and gives a smirk before walking away to the next room. you cringe at the idea that she knows exactly what you have been up to and close the door quickly.

"phew." you are relieved that they didn't walk into you and yunjin butt naked for cleaning service. meanwhile, yunjin has approached you from behind and wrapped her arms around you.

"hi, come back to bed." she pulls at your robe and pulls you towards her.

"oh okay..."you're confused but let her pull you back to bed. cuddling with her feels nice and reminds you of the days you spent lounging in each other's place.

"jen! i cannot believe you!" you stand on the far end away from her, backing yourself into a corner.

"what? i didn't do anything wrong." she stalks towards you with a devious smile as she watches you examine yourself in the mirror.

"you mauled my neck!" you exclaim as you claw at your neck looking left and right at the damage she's done. yunjin rather looks proud of her handiwork and instead pulls you onto her lap.

"okay no need to be a big baby about it, let me touch it up." she pulls out her concealer and starts going to town on the many hickeys she's left littered across your neck.

you huff and complain while yunjin lets you drone on while applying concealer until you're satisfied. she doesn't mention the new marks she's dug into your back, quite happy that only she can see them.

you both set out for a much chiller day outside, leisurely walking in parks and chatting while enjoying the parisian weather. you reach a quiet spot in the park, pulling out a blanket and your picnic basket.

yunjin doesn't comment on the humongous scarf that you have wrapped around your neck, but it does make her laugh a bit to see it.

you two are enjoying the nice breeze, when you hear smacking sounds nearby. looking around, you don't spot anything unusual until you notice a couple practically eating each other's mouths off. a closer look and you realize you recognize the two as the couple from the plane into paris.

you immediately turn your head to yunjin, "pss, the couple from the plane is at my six."

she quickly whips her head around and lo and behold the couple is still loudly eating each other's faces off. she laughs at the sight before capturing your lips with hers. "we should beat them."

"jen noooooo." you groan and turn away from her, uninterested at the idea of attracting their attention. she simply laughs and continues to enjoy the picnic. the rest of the trip goes well, often sharing little tidbits of your lives in the past couple months without each other.

after enjoying your "anniversary" trip in paris, you both get ready to go home. holding hands and kissing through the cab ride, plane ride and even through baggage claim.

you spot your sister out front of the pick-up terminal with a big sign "welcome back lovers!" you groan at the sign, of course she would show up with a poster plastering you and yunjin's photos to pick you up.

"she knows we're back together?" yunjin comments in confusion.

"i didn't even tell her, she just kept saying she knew we would get back together when the trip was over." you hold yunjin's luggage as your sister tackles yunjin into a hug, spilling about how much she missed her.

"i'm here too you know...your actual sister." your sister simply swats you away and enthusiastically asks about your trip to yunjin.

you drive off with yunjin's hand in yours and a warm smile as yunjin talks about the trip to your sister.

a/n: i apologize if there's any inaccuracies about paris, i've never been 😭 this post was inspired by a fic i read a longggg time ago. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x you #jennifer huh #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin x you #neoplatinum

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cheollipop · 11 months

Text

heists and celebrations

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader x choi san

w.c.: 3.9k

tags: smut, they're all criminals/partners in crime, criminal behaviour (theft), mentioned boxer!san and his manager!wooyoung, some reckless driving

with the stolen necklace secured around your neck, wooyoung slumped back in his seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel while his eyes remained focused on the overhead mirror, watching his two partners celebrate another successful heist in the back of his van.

warnings: semi-public sex, van sex, really fucking filthy sex (genuinely disgusting), dom!woosan, sub!reader, some jealousy, reader is wearing red lipstick and it gets everywhere, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum swallowing, cum sharing, spit kink, praise, degradation (reader is called a slut once), a cute little breeding kink, a sprinkle of breath play (barely any), some begging, overstimulation, nicknames (sannie; youngie; baby, darling, sweetheart, love, good girl, pretty girl), wooyoung watches them fuck the whole time, and teases san because he's cute when riled up

A/N: I've had this fic idea in my notes since the very first woosan teaser dropped so I'm really glad I was finally able to write it out! ( ´∀ `) though challenging fsr, I really enjoyed writing the smut for this one. happy reading! ^^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞

Walking past the metal detectors, you raised your phone to peek at your reflection, making sure the glitter on your eyelids and the red painting your lips were intact, smacking them together once before walking further into exhibit.

Your footsteps slowed as you passed the broad, arched doorway and entered a wider gallery with accessories from numerous eras lining the walls, people crowding in front of the displays. Your eyes trailed over the diamonds and gold encased within the glass boxes, the overhead lights reflecting the luxury accessories. In any other heist, your eyes would remain forward, playing the role of a mere passerby minding their own business. But today, you were just another visitor in this exhibit, ogling at the jewellery on display. A quick, discrete scan of the room was enough to find you your target – standing near the wall to your left, the blonde head of hair displacing him in the monochrome room.

Just as you were about to move towards the tall figure, your gaze unintentionally flitted to the right, colliding with feline eyes staring right back at you from the other side of the room – the man standing idly in a uniform too big for him, bruises from last night’s match tainting his angular features. You twisted your body in the other direction, heeled boots clacking over the polished tile with confident strides, your eyes meeting the blonde man’s and dragging his attention off the rowdy school kids in the far corner. You waited until his gaze fell on you to dig the tip of your tongue into the corner of your mouth, blinking innocently as you approached him, your eyes moving down to read the ID card hanging off his neck.

Security Guard Song Mingi

Stepping into his personal space, your hand flew to his shoulder and you drew your eyebrows together in feigned distress. “Oh, thank God! Sir, could you please help me?”

Mingi’s head lowered to eye the hand resting delicately over his chest, looking back up to meet your anxious eyes. “S-sure, yes, of course," he stuttered when your fingers tightened around his lapel. "What can I help you with?"

You twisted your body and walked backwards until you hit the wall behind him, slumping against it and exhaling deeply. “My friend,” you paused, looking up at him now that he’d turned his back to the rest of the room. You blinked faux tears into your eyes, quivering your bottom lip ever so slightly while you spoke, “I’ve been looking for her for hours. Could you please help me find her, Sir?”

You watched Mingi’s ears shift hues, his head turning to the side as he coughed awkwardly. The bright red blurred in your peripheral as you stared ahead, nodding discretely at the idle figure across the room and watching it slip past the restricted ribbon closing off a section of the exhibit, looking back at Mingi when broad shoulders disappeared behind the corner.

“She said she’d meet me at the Tiffany and Co. section, but she never showed up. She won’t even answer her phone,” you leaned forward to wrap your fingers around his forearm, looking up at him with wide eyes, glassy with simulated concern. “I’m really worried about her, Sir. Please help me?”

Nimble fingers worked over the display case’s lock, occasionally looking back at the doorless entrance to confirm he was still in the clear. Moving his attention back to the small keyhole, he worked the pick and wrench inside with steady hands, the flashlight held between his lips reflecting off the glass. A whispered curse vibrated around the flashlight when his jacket sleeve slid down his arm, covering the hand holding the pick – along with the bloody scrapes and bruises colouring his knuckles – but he was too far in to back out now, working the lock with the fabric draped over it. After a few more tries, a muted click sounded and the glass door swung open.

Cat-like eyes raised off the picked lock to examine the diamond necklace hanging off the jewellery stand, studying the angle at which the light bounced off the large stones. Reaching forward, he carefully lifted the necklace with his index and thumb around the clasp, securing it in the felt bag he’d pulled out of his blazer before tucking it back inside. Digging his hand into his back pocket, he pulled out an identical replica – cheap moissanite bedazzling the silver – and intricately placed it inside the case, adjusting it over the stand before closing the glass door and listening for the soft click of its automatic lock.

Pulling the flashlight out of his mouth, he switched it off and patted his breast pocket once before walking back towards the entryway. A quick peek into the short hallway outside to ensure it was empty followed by quick steps past the red ribbon sealing off the section he had been in, San squinted at the bright overhead lights as he made it back into the main gallery, rooting himself in his previous position just in time for five suited men to make their way into the big room. Their conversation continued as they walked past San, nodding in acknowledgement before making their way over the restriction ribbon and through the short hallway, grease from the sandwiches they’d had for lunch coating their moving lips.

The familiar sonance of your laugh drew his attention to the wide entrance, his eyes finding yours over the blonde security guard’s shoulder before trailing down to study the arm draped over your waist. The plan was for you to guide him away from this gallery and into another, but there you were, barely an inch separating you and the tall man. San’s eyebrow twitched at the proximity, but more so at the dumb smile splitting his face in half while his other arm points towards where your ‘friend’ was supposedly waiting for you. Meeting your gaze once again, he gave you a firm nod before solemnly staring ahead.

With a flirty smile and a few bats of your eyelashes, you slipped a fake number into Mingi’s phone and walked away, the guard barely noticing you walking in the opposite direction of which he pointed you in.

San’s eyes flitted to the antique clock hung up on the wall across from him, turning around just in time to watch a man with a sharp nose and jet-black hair approach him. Quickly glancing at his ID card, San bowed slightly and began walking away as his ‘shift’ came to an end.

“Wait,” the deep baritone halted San’s movements, twisting his torso to look back at the guard. “Let me see your ID,” he reached a hand out, palm up and expecting.

San blinked once, twice, before pulling the lanyard off his neck and handing it to the man in front of him, turning his body to face him fully. The grim man examined the card, flipping it over a few times before sliding it back into San’s hand.

“Good work today, Yunho,” he gave him a tight smile which San reciprocated with a small bow before he moved away to stand where San had been all evening.

Stepping out of the stuffy exhibit and into the chilly night, San inhaled deeply, walking down the small steps and reaching into his blazer for the felt bag, swiftly stuffing it into his slacks before shrugging off the loose uniform and slinging it over his shoulder. He strutted down the block, his lips pursed as he whistled mindlessly, his soiled tank top sticking to his body with the night breeze blowing over his skin.

A few minutes of walking led him to a familiar convenience store, the lights flickering weakly and the table set out the front swaying with the light wind. Casually peeking over his shoulder, he made sure no one was following him before turning a corner, your familiar figure – resting against the graffitied wall – waiting for him in the damp alleyway. You pushed yourself off the grimy concrete, a smile stretching your lips when your eyes zeroed in on the felt bag pinched between two of his fingers.

Grabbing onto the thin material of his tank top, you pushed San backwards until his body crashed into the wall, the red on your lips transferring to his when you pressed your mouths together, the metallic taste of blood seeping into your taste buds as you licked over the corner of his lip. San’s fingers wrapped around your nape, inhaling deeply before parting his lips and running his tongue over your bottom teeth. Cold fingers tickled the sides of your neck, a heavy weight falling over your collarbones while San’s tongue pressed against yours. One of your hands untangled from the material of his top, running over your decolletage until your fingers made contact with the cool silver and curved over the slope of the large diamonds. The felt bag – now empty and worthless – fell into the puddle by your feet, the malodor of sewage masked by the hunger in San’s eyes, his hands wandering over your body while he devoured you.

A loud honk from the van parked down the alley cut your fit of passion short. You giggled at San’s irritated griping as you made your way to the vehicle, the metal surface littered with dents of various sizes and the colourful lettering chipping off the white paint. You walked past San as he pulled at the back handles, skipping your way to the front and watching the door fly open, sliding into the passenger seat as Wooyoung retreated back into his.

“Welcome back,” he flicked the tip of your nose, his eyes fixed on the glimmering stones hanging off your neck. “I’m guessing we can skip the debrief?” A lopsided smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Looping two fingers around the silver band, he tugged you towards him, the clasp digging into the back of your neck as some of the lipstick still painting your lips smeared over Wooyoung’s, his tongue gliding over yours to flatten over the roof of your mouth.

The curtain behind you slid open, San’s deep grumble obscured by your heavy breathing. “Ya! I worked my ass off to get that. If you wanna pull that hard, just buy her a leash,” he propped his forearm on the back of the seat, resting his chin over it to study the red smudged over Wooyoung’s lips.

“Worked our asses off,” you complained.

“No, I worked my ass off while you were busy flirting with that prick.”

You could see Wooyoung’s eyebrow quirk, his questioning gaze lasting only a second before he parted from you with a final kiss, letting go of the necklace and slumping back in his seat to turn the engine on. “Leave her alone, Sannie. If you wanted to be praised for doing your job right, you should’ve just said so,” he pressed his foot down on the pedal, reversing out of the alleyway before digging his palm into the steering wheel and turning it twice to move onto the empty road.

The pout on your lips faded when your eyes met San’s, angling his chin to point at Wooyoung, the silent communication bringing a shared smile to your lips.

“Youngie,” you tugged on his sleeve, leaning over the console to get closer to him.

“Yeah, baby?” his eyes remained trained on the road, a few cars driving alongside him on the dark highway.

San chuckled breathily, “I think our pretty girl wants to thank you for the ride. We couldn’t have pulled this off without you. Right, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly, gliding your palm up his thigh and inwards to tease at his clothed crotch. He glanced over at you, his teeth peeking through his parting lips, the corners curled upwards.

“Oh really? Is there anything else you want to thank me for?”

“Thank you for getting rid of that Yunho guy, we would’ve been in trouble if he had been there,” your fingers trailed over the zipper, circling his button before popping it open.

“Mm, that’s right. Come on now, sweet girl, thank me properly,” Wooyoung slumped further down in his seat, widening his legs and dropping one hand off the steering wheel to give you space.

Just as you freed his half-hard length from the confines of his boxers, San’s hand cupped the back of your head and pushed you down. Your torso bent over the console, the gear stick digging into your waist by the time San let go of you.

You pulled away slightly, fingers wrapped around his base and tongue rolled out to place kitten licks over his cockhead. Wooyoung peeked down at you to follow the line of drool dripping off your tongue to lubricate his cock, snapping his eyes back up to the road with a guttural groan squeezed your fist around him. You pressed your lips to his tip, placing your hands over his upper thighs and moving back to admire the painted outline of your lips – the last of your lipstick colouring it red.

When you deemed him hard enough, your lips closed around his leaking head, giving him a gentle suck to feel his thighs contract before taking him further into your mouth. You nuzzled your nose into the hair around his base and relaxed your throat, flattening your tongue over the underside of his cock and reveling in the tight grunts it elicited from above.

A loud horn blared from the lane beside yours, Wooyoung’s vision unblurring and his palm hurriedly gliding over the steering wheel to adjust the swerving van. San snickered behind him, partly at your muffled coughs around the younger man’s cock as the rough steering jerked your body around. You pull away to breathe once the vehicle settled, inhaling deeply and clearing your throat, the bitter taste of precum on your tongue.

“I don’t think she’s thanking you hard enough, Youngie,” San tsked behind you, palming over his clothed cock as he took in your red eyes and sniffling nose.

“Mm, I think you’re right,” the arm resting idly over the console raised, fingers tangling in the hair at your nape and pushing your head downwards until the warmth of your mouth engulfed him once again, soft groans escaping through gritted teeth as your throat constricted around his tip. With the hand in your hair, he began moving you over his cock, bobbing your head and noting the weight of the necklace adoring your neck falling over his thigh every time his tip brushed against your uvula. “Fuuuuck, that’s my good girl.”

The outline of his vein slid over your tongue, pulsing as you took him down your throat. You could hear the slick movement of San’s hand over his cock, his eyes moving between your stretched lips and Wooyoung’s parted ones, soft, breathy moans muffled under the wind rushing through the open window. You felt him twitch inside your mouth, the familiar clench of his abdomen egging you on, taking him all the way and hollowing your cheeks. The van veered to the left again, Wooyoung’s eyes barely open as pleasure rushed through his veins with every squeeze around his cockhead. You swallowed around him once, twice, before gagging around the hot ribbons of white shooting down your throat. The limp fingers in your hair regained their strength, pushing your head down while he rolled his hips into your mouth, your jaw going slack as he used you to milk out the last of his cum.

San’s eyes fluttered shut to take in the melodies playing through Wooyoung’s parted lips – rough grunts paired with airy moans while he fucked the last of his load into your mouth, pulling you off him to wipe the tip of his cock over your face, a line of cum smeared over your cheek. A few seconds of muted shuffling passed before saltiness consumed San’s tastebuds, your mouth roughly pressing against his, tongue breaching his lips to share some of Wooyoung’s release. His Adam’s apple bobbed, eagerly swallowing down the tangy liquid before diving in for more, pushing you further into him with a hand to the back of your head. A throaty moan vibrated against your lips, San’s cock lurching in his limp fist as he sucked the last of Wooyoung’s load off your tongue. Pulling away, you grabbed San’s jaw firmly and moved your head closer to spit into his open mouth, a mixture of your spit and his marbled with milky white reflecting the passing streetlights before disappearing down his throat.

“Wooyoung, fuck,” he spoke, words slurred from the tight grip you have on his jaw, rolling his wrist around his leaking cockhead. “Pull over. I need her right fucking now.”

The van jumped over a speedbump, the driver too distracted to slow down, eyes trained on the overhead mirror instead of the road as two bodies moved steadily in the reflection. Two fingers twisted the volume knob to the left, silencing the music to revel in the harmony of moans surging from the back of the van.

The worn-down mattress was anything but comfortable, your dripping pussy adding to the stains decorating it. Looking over to the side, your eyes settled on the discarded boxing gloves from the night before, splotches of maroon flaking off the faux leather. One of San’s hands cupped the back of your head, pushing your face down while he pounded into you from the back, his other pulling at the necklace around your neck, the diamonds pressing into your skin to form thin crescents.

Wooyoung scoffed at the sight – red spreading from the soiled collar of San’s tank top and up to his neck, beads of sweat rolling down his skin and sinking into the cheap cotton. “What happened to all your hard work, hm?” his eyes rolled down to San’s white knuckles, wrapped tightly around the accessory restricting your airflow.

“Shut up,” he spat, his hips slamming into the backs of your thighs as he pumped his cock between your fluttering walls. The hand covering the back of your head slid down your spine to squeeze at your waist, his blunt nails stabbing into your heated flesh while husky grunts vibrated through his throat.

Wooyoung’s eyes shifted to your face, concealed as you looked over to the side, your lips parted with drool pooling under your head. “Aw, I think Sannie got a little jealous earlier. Right, sweetheart?”

The words reduced to mere sounds in your head, the syllables meshing as San’s cockhead pistoned into your g-spot, barely registering the rough fingers tangling into the hair at your crown before sharp pain seared through your scalp, your chest lifting off the tattered mattress and neck craning as San angled your face upwards. You sucked in deep breaths now that the silver band wasn't digging into your neck, choking around broken cries of pleasure. Hooded eyes studied your face in the small mirror – pupils dilated, tears and glitter eyeshow staining your heated cheeks with saliva trickling down your chin, body jerking forward every time San’s hips slammed into yours, his cock stretching you open around his girth.

“'Don’t think she can answer,” San rasped, his eyes dropping to watch the flesh of your ass ripple every time he drove into your clenching cunt. “Ah- So fucking tight for me.”

Wooyoung’s fingers squeezed around the steering wheel, “is he fucking you good, baby?” The corners of his lips twitched with a concealed smirk, “or is my pretty slut still thinking about that man’s cock?”

Your brain short-circuited, shots of burning pleasure soaring through your veins and forcing your eyes shut. “it’s good, s-so good,” your speech was barely coherent, moans spilling out of you as San continued to fuck you through Wooyoung’s interrogation.

“What about my second question?” San’s eyes flew towards the mirror to meet Wooyoung’s, clenching his jaw so tight it bordered on painful, the younger man smiling to himself over how easy it was to rile San up.

San rammed his cock inside you, holding it deep within your cunt while he bent at the waist to whisper in your ear, the deep baritone of his voice nearly masked under your pathetic moaning, “be a good girl and answer Youngie’s question, or have I already fucked you dumb?"

“I-I’m not! ‘Love Sannie’s cock so much- hnngh!” your upper body flopped onto the mattress, your scalp burning under the palm San had flattened over your head, fingers rubbing soothing lines over your roots while he ground his cock into your heat.

“That’s right,” he pressed his lips to your slick shoulder and gave you a harsh thrust, rolling his hips once, twice before pulling off you. His hands slid down your body to grab at your hips, dragging you back over his length with a grip tight enough to promise bruises. One of his knees nudged against your inner thigh to spread your legs even further, giving you a few seconds to breathe before he began hammering his cock into you. “Love my cock so much you’ll let me breed this tight pussy, won’t you, darling?

“Nghh- fuck! Sannie, please-”

“Give it to me, love, ‘wanna feel you cream all over my cock,” the tautness of his voice, strained as he chased his orgasm with sloppy thrusts, was enough to send you over the edge.

Your vision went black as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, thighs shaking while you your orgasm rushed through you. A succession of curses and San’s name rolled off your tongue, followed by desperate pleas for him to come as he frantically humped your overstimulated cunt. Your body jolted as pain mixed with pleasure, your vision blurring with tears while San used you like a cocksleeve, leaning over you to whisper in your ear, whimpered praise falling off his tongue – a melody of ‘just a little more’ and ‘you can take it’ sending shivers down your spine.

You felt him split you open thrice before a familiar warmth spread through your lower belly, his cock twitching between your fluttering walls as he unloaded his seed inside you. His arms wrapped around your middle, holding your body flush against his shuddering chest while he grinded into your used cunt, draining himself of every last drop. Delicate hands smoothed over your sides at the pained whimper you released into the dungy mattress, San’s softening cock slipping out of you and making way for a stream of his cum to trickle out of your gaping hole. He took a few seconds to moon over the mess he'd created before pursing his lips and adding to it, dropping a wad of spit onto your drenched pussy, your hips jolting when a calloused thumb ran through the fluids painting your folds.

You barely noticed the van making a sharp turn, the engine going silent half a minute later and drawing your attention to the front, a rest stop sign shining through the windshield. Wooyoung’s head poked through the gap between the seats, his eyes glazed over as he took in the sweaty bodies sprawled out in their own mess. He lifted his arm to hurl a roll of cash at San, his eyes remaining fixed on your twitching form as he imagined the steady stream of cum making its way down your thighs.

“Sannie, go grab some food and water. I think I need to be thanked a little more.”

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Note

I have another request! Your writing is just amazing.

Would love an Az x reader where she knows they are mates but doesn’t tell him because she can’t have kids and she thinks he will reject it if he finds out. So she starts pulling away or gets upset or something and then the bond snaps for him and he is confused as to why she doesn’t want it.

She finally tells him and thinks he will reject her because of it but it goes from angst to fluff and he’s all cute and says she is all he wants and he doesn’t care. Happy ending

thank you so much lovely! I love your requests, I think they're perfect for Az

All I've Ever Needed

Azriel x Reader

Leaned over the balcony, you swirled the champagne in your glass as the stars began to shoot across the sky, bathing Velaris in ethereal light. The quiet scuff of boots sounded next to you, a smile gracing your lips as you thought about the only person who would wear boots to Starfall.

Glancing up, you were met with hazel eyes, golden in this light as they focused on you. “You’re missing the show,” you nodded to the skyline in front of you.

“Am I?” Azriel murmured, so quiet you hardly heard him. Still, his gaze turned towards the sky, a comfortable silence wrapping around the pair of you like a warm blanket on this cold early Spring evening.

Azriel turned back towards you, inhaling deeply as he opened his mouth to speak when a rogue spirit soared towards him, glowing pale green light splattering throughout his onyx hair. Your laugh echoed loudly through the open night air, bringing a rare, broad smile to Azriel’s lips. His face lit up brighter than the stars that glowed like a halo around him, and the snap in your chest as the universe pulled you towards him was undeniable.

Breathless, you clutched your chest as emotions swirled within you. Mate, my mate, your heart chanted, as Azriel’s hand began to reach for yours. A high-pitched giggle sounded from below, interrupting the moment as little Nyx ran towards you.

“Uncle Azzy!” the toddler squealed in delight, laughter ringing through the air as Azriel lifted his nephew into his broad arms. “You have stars in your hair,” the small boy noted, chubby fingers reaching to tug on Azriel’s wavy tresses.

Azriel shook his head, Nyx laughing as stardust sprinkled all around the both of them. “There, now you have stars too,” Az murmured, setting Nyx back down for the child to run into Feyre’s arms.

“Happy Starfall,” she greeted you with a kiss to your cheek before turning to Azriel, a soft laugh leaving the High Lady as Nyx eagerly reached back for Azriel once more. “You are so good with him,” Feyre noted to Az, grinning at the shadowsinger’s blush from her compliment. “I can’t wait to see you with children of your own one day.”

The perfect bubble of this evening burst. Heart dropping, the skies of Velaris now a shattered snow globe as you registered Feyre’s words. Neither she or Azriel knew what you’d learned long ago from Madja, that you would never be able to bear children.

And now, as you watched Azriel’s blush deepen, your mate smiling while he played with his nephew, you realized how cruel the Cauldron must be for your mate to be someone you could never satisfy. Setting down your flute of champagne, you excused yourself as you abandoned not only the party, but any chance you’d hoped for with Azriel.

Months passed as you ignored the shadowsinger, ignored the way your heart called to him, how much you missed his kindness and friendship. Being the understanding person that he was, Azriel didn’t push you, didn’t try to force you when he noticed you distancing yourself. It somehow hurt more, knowing that the person who understood you most was still there, giving you the space you needed despite how much you wanted to run into his arms. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, tell him how much you loved him, trap him by telling that you were his mate when you could never give him the children he evidently wanted.

Walking down the streets of the Rainbow, Mor pressured you about Azriel’s birthday. “I know you two aren’t as close, and I won’t push about it, but you are going to his birthday tonight aren’t you?”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you deliberated the question you’d been asking yourself for the past several weeks. “Of course I’ll go, Mor. We are still friends,” you promised, knowing that as much as you might dread this evening, missing Azriel’s birthday would cause too many issues among your family.

Mor left you alone, headed to meet Feyre at the art studio. You walked down the street, looking in the windows of art galleries and clothiers when something pulled you towards a small jewelry shop. You heart fluttered in your chest when you noticed the silver ring in the window, a small cobalt blue gem in the center.

You opened the door without thinking, your feet guiding you to where the jewelry sat in its display. The shopkeeper approached you, her kind green eyes twinkling as she looked between you and the ring.

“That is a beautiful piece. I’ve seen several males pass by admiring it. And we can do same-day engraving,” she spoke, her velvet voice thinly veiling her eagerness to make the sale.

As the idea came to you, you flashed her a smile. “I’ll take it.”

Hands shaking with nerves, you shyly maneuvered through the doorway to the River House, gift in hand as you made your way to the living room where your family was gathered. Mor approached you first, blonde hair flying as she ran towards you to wrap you in a hug. Handing you a drink, she looped her arm in yours, guiding you to the center of the room where you set the gift on the table.

Hazel eyes bored into you, Azriel staring unabashedly as he approached. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered, a lump in his throat as he looked over the gauzy lavender dress you donned. “You look beautiful.”

Blushing under his attention, you willed your heart to stop pounding against your chest as you spoke. “Of course. Happy birthday, Azriel,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning to greet the others.

Near the end of the evening, everyone was enjoying the beautiful cake Elain had prepared when Mor giddily clapped her hands. “Presents, now!” she demanded, shoving her own gift into Azriel’s hands. Azriel unwrapped the present, pink paper torn apart to reveal a pair of green, fuzzy earmuffs. “They’re to match the scarf I got you last Solstice!” Mor exclaimed, clearly proud of herself for such a thoughtful gift.

Azriel gave her a polite smile and a thank you, moving to unwrap the next gifts. From Cassian and Nesta, a new pair of boots, since apparently once of the Valkyries had thrown up on his other pair during training last week. From Feyre and Rhys, he was given a painting - a memory of the annual snowball fight from the last year, with Nyx included.

“Who is this from?” Azriel asked, holding up the small box with blue paper and black ribbon. You shyly raised your hand, a nervous smile on your face as Azriel’s eyes softened. “Thank you,” he said, never breaking eye contact.

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” you retorted with a giggle. Azriel’s eyes sparkled at your laughter, his hands deftly untying the ribbon as he carefully opened the box. He simply stared at it for a moment, silver lining his eyes as he held the box in his hands.

“I know you like to wear rings, and if you look at the side, I had it engraved for you,” you explained. Azriel carefully took the ring from the box, turning it over to see the outline of Ramiel, with Carynth shining above, and Azriel, Rhysand’s, and Cassian’s initials below.

Sliding the ring on his finger, Azriel looked to you, a look of shock crossing his features as he stumbled back, knocking his chair backwards in the process. You forgot to breathe for a moment, the only thought your brain able to process that Azriel now knew that you were mates. Standing up quickly, you uttered a goodbye as you ran out the front door in escape.

You made it halfway across the lawn when shadows swirled in front of you, Azriel towering over you as he appeared, anger swirling in his eyes. “You knew.”

You didn’t say anything, just held your chin high as you willed the tears not to fall. Azriel didn’t let up though, taking another step towards you. “How long have you known that we are mates?”

Eyes shuttering, you took a deep breath. “Since Starfall,” you eked out in a broken whisper.

Azriel’s face contorted in hurt and anger, his own voice shaky as he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me? All of this time avoiding me, why wouldn’t you tell me that you didn’t want me?”

Something between a shocked laugh and a choking sound forced its way from your throat as you gaped at him. “Don’t want you? Azriel, all I want is you! It’s been agony trying to stay away, to keep the bond from snapping and trapping you with me. You deserve better, Az. You deserve more than I can give to you.”

Trying to step around him to walk away, Azriel swiftly slid into your path, the ring on his finger cool against your cheek as he guided your gaze to his. “How could you ever think that you wouldn’t deserve me? If anything, I don’t deserve you. You are kind, beautiful, thoughtful... You’re more than I could have dreamed of.”

You allowed yourself to lean into his touch for only a moment before you softly pulled his hand away from your face. You drew his hand up, clutching it in your own, savoring the warmth of his touch. “Azriel, I can’t have children. Madja told me years ago, it’s just not possible for me. And seeing you on Starfall with Nyx, you were so happy. And I cannot give you that. I cannot give you everything you want, can’t give you a family.”

Azriel’s hand wrapped around yours, pulling you into him, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Holding your chin between his fingers, he tilted your gaze to him. “You are my family. You are everything I could ever want, and more.” His lips brushed yours, the feeling of his smile against your own sending a burst of joy through you as you leaned up to kiss your mate.

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bigification · 20 days

Text

American Tourist

I sit near the start of the hike, waiting for my tour guide. It takes a while, but finally an older man comes out of a small hut and greets me.

"Hello, are you Markus?" The man asks.

"Yes, I'm here for the tour." I reply, getting up to shake his hand.

"Well let's get started." He says as he leads to the head of the trail.

The tour starts fairly normal. The man just points out small things along the trail like plants and wildlife. But he started to sprinkle in some small talk as well.

"It is not often we have Americans come on this tour." The man says.

The comment confuses me, as I'm from London and have a very obviously non American accent.

"Oh I'm from London, not America." I correct him.

"I must be confused, the big men like you tend to be from America." He replies.

I take it as a compliment, that he's calling me strong, but it still strikes me as odd.

"It must be cold back in America, for you to be wearing shorts and a button up in this weather." The man continues.

Again with the 'America' stuff, I don't know why he keeps insisting on this. Also I'm wearing a t shirt and jeans, I don't know why he said that. But I'm shocked when I look down and see that in wearing khaki shorts and a blue button up. I could have sworn I was wearing jeans, but I guess I was wrong.

"Ya, it is..." I just lead the man along, hoping he'll let it go.

"I hope you brought some sunscreen. Americans with light complexion like you tend to burn easily." He continues.

I don't know what he's on about this time, I literally have darker skin than him. And it's definitely not sunny enough today to burn me. I look down at my arms to see if I'm burnt, maybe that's why he made the comment. Though when I look down, I see white skin. What!? My arms, my legs, they're white. I pull out my phone and look at myself in the camera, my face is white and my hair has become straight. I should be more shocked, but the more I think about the more comfortable I am. This is how I've always looked, right?

"I'm shocked you're keeping up this well." The tour guide continues.

"What do you mean?" I ask, nearly out of breath. He just complimented how big I was, and now he's questioning my athleticism.

"Well Americans like you tend to think they can do a trail like this, but then have to stop half way through." He says as he slaps my stomach.

What does he mean by Americans like me? And why did he slap my stomach? I look down and see my previously flat stomach grow rounder and rounder. My button up stretches further and further as my stomach grows into a soft beer belly. My solid pecs also soften into a pair of moobs. I even feel my shorts tighten around my ass. I try to rearrange my dick to make my bulge less noticeable, but these shorts are way too small.

"Don't you worry my friend, I did football in college. Don't let this tank fool ya, I'm sure I can keep up just fine." I reply in a thick southern accent, still out of breath. I start to unbutton my shirt, hoping to beat the heat.

"I still don't know how you Americans can grow so much hair, it's like a forest in there." The man questions, pointing at my chest.

I look down at the thick pelt of hair covering my chest as I scratch my thick beard.

"Us American men, we've got plenty of testosterone. Makes us the men we are." I reply in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Look, we've made it to the top. You should be glad, not many people your age make it all the way up." The man congratulates me.

I don't know what he means by that comment, but I'm not that old. Besides I barely broke a sweat, I'm an athlete after all.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #reality change #male wg #muscle tf #male transformation #age progression #race change

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useeer · 22 days

Text

Dance with me?

Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader

You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.

Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo

Enjoy!!

[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]

You weren't exactly a party person.

Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun.

Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.

It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.

The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.

You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do?

While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there.

Man. You were bored.

You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.

And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.

If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake.

Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate.

"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.

"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.

"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.

"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.

They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.

God, you needed to sit down.

You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed!

Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!

You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid.

You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat.

Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.

Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.

Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat.

"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling.

Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.

"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone.

"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.

God. Please just go away...

They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.

"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.

"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food."

Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time.

"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this.

"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating.

"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.

"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve.

You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.

Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.

They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it.

"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.

"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.

"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing.

"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.

You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"

They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not.

"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags.

Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"

You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."

They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat.

Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.

Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all.

They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap.

"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction.

"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.

They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work.

"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of."

They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.

"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.

Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.

Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures.

The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.

The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"

They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.

You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.

You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case.

Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.

Damn.

You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.

And well... who are you to deny them?

Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.

Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.

Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.

"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.

They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.

We've got nowhere to go

We've got nothing to prove

Instead of dancing alone

I should be dancing with you

The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.

"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!"

"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you.

"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk.

They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.

They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you.

Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up.

It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released.

You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.

"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them.

"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.

"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life.

Do I wanna know?

If these feelings flow both ways.

Sad to see you go.

Sorta hoping that you'd stay.

Baby we both know.

That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.

That you can't say tomorrow day.

Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.

Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think.

The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.

The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.

"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.

“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.

Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.

You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.

"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off.

You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.

“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.

You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.

They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness.

"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.

"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.

Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking.

Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.

Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.

#i proof read this like 2983 times and so did my bf and then also another friend so if theres a typo im sorry im stupid #venture x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #overwatch #self insert #overwatch 2 #venture overwatch #great googily moogily that thang is juicey #crazy i wrote a fanfiction #also the songs are out of control by she wants revenge and then do i wanna know by arctic monkeys

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Clown crime group yans and then there's just their new clown member y/n who doesn't commit the crimes but is like their emotional support animal

The group's latest victim falls at the feet of yet another clown as they're thrown into the back of their van. This one is... different. Their bright clothings still holds vibrant shine and free of blood. The only bout of red on them is the paint on their nose and the stripes and dots sprinkled through their attire. Their expression is grime, yet holds a kind, sympathetic and almost friendly air. All in all, they were what your average clown would be - a polar opposite to the monsters piling in the van as their prey cowards.

The group of bloodthirsty clown crowd around the odd member of the crowd. The plesant clown looks so out of place their victim worries for their safety as well - but everyone greets them with friendly banter and kinder smiles. The only danger they were in was being smothered by the clowns as they exchanged pleasantries through hugs and chat.

"Can you believe it, Y/n? He called my makeup cheap!"

You pet the clown's curly head of hair as they sob into your chest. "It's okay, Jax. Everyone here knows how much effort you put into your stars, and I personally think they're amazing! We can talk more about it when we get back, but I have to see if anyone needs to be patched up right now."

A fist hitting the side of the van catches everyone's attention. "Everybody except Y/n and the other one out. Found the safe and I need the extra hands."

"Aww, but we just got back to them."

Saddened, the group says their goodbyes and scrabbles back onto the road. You shove your medical/sewing kit back under the bench and wait for them to return. Left alone with the only soul who will listen, the victim speaks.

"Why.. Why are you doing this?"

Your smile falls as does your head. "It's not like I want to. They kidnapped me, but they've never hurt me. They're the nicest people you could possibly when you get to know them. Before I joined them, they attacked people every night, but now sometimes we get to have fun and preform like a clown should instead. I really am sorry about this "

You kneel beside them a retrieve something from your pocket. A smile facey sticker you place on their cheek; wiping their tears after. "At least you won't die."

#Clown reader #Yandere clown #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #tw yandere #yandere harem

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mojogojocasahouse · 4 months

Text

Literally can't get the thought out of my head that Gojo would fall for his hairdresser because they're the only person who touches him consistently. So, here it is.

Satoru Gojo x f!hairdresser reader

C: Gojo POV, fluff, a little sprinkle of angst

He didn’t mean to fall in love. He really didn’t.

In fact, Satoru Gojo had sworn it off entirely in his third year of high school outside a KFC in Shinjuku. That evening, with every step back towards Jujutsu Tech, his tears turned to cement around his heart, barricading it behind a fortress never to be broken. That had been the plan anyway.

But you’d foiled it.

It was just a series of unfortunate coincidences that had led him straight to the very depths of hell that felt way more like heaven than he wanted to admit. His normal barber had been out of town, but his hair was growing too long against his neck. It itched as it began to curl behind his ears, it reminded him of his teenage years, and Megumi had started poking fun at him. So, he’d wandered into the salon by the apartment he barely used and asked if anyone had time for a quick cut, an action he’d thought was inconsequential.

There was no way to decipher exactly what it was that had left him slack-jawed and boneless in those thirty minutes. Maybe it had been how your fingers combed through his wet hair so gently, swirling against his scalp and loosening tension he swore was permanent. The way you’d softly turned and tipped his chin as you inspected your work and perfected every unruly tuft of snowy hair, your gaze too focused on the task to see how utterly enraptured he’d been. He’d caught you on the tips of your toes, his height still too great even with the chair as low as it allowed, so he’d slowly slunk down, his spine curling uncomfortably. He hadn’t cared about the ache. There was also a good chance he’d fallen when you mussed up the finished product, smiling into your eyes as you complimented how well he pulled off the messy look, your palms pressed to his head as you held him. Held him.

He’d never gone back to his barber again

After a year of monthly cuts and trims, he upped his frequency. One night after a mission that had tested every ounce of his resolve and patience, he’d wandered in and pathetically asked for just a quick wash. He’d noted how your eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern, a warm hand on his back leading him to the waiting area, and a promise that you’d be no longer than ten minutes allowing his chest to loosen just enough to breathe.

Soothing circles over his temples had eased his headache, the warm water and your methodical movements lulling him into tranquility. You’d taken extra care, kneading down his neck and feathering over his eyes until he’d been half asleep, his tension swirling down the drain. Never in his life had he wanted to kiss someone as badly as in the moment his eyes fluttered open to your smiling face.

He was never the same after that.

Today is like every other, Megumi at his side as they make their way to the cafe after a mission the kid wasn’t supposed to go on. Whatever, he’d be starting at Jujutsu Tech in a few years, there was no reason to not give him a headstart.

His height gives him the advantage, and when he spots you across the street he practically sends Megumi crashing to the sidewalk as he whirls to hide his face, fumbling with the glasses in his pocket and ripping the white bandages covering his eyes off his face.

“What the hell is your problem?” Megumi barks, scowling in annoyance as Satoru slides his round black lenses onto his thin, pointed nose, “Why’re you changing your glasses?”

“Satoru?” Your voice sings out to him even on the crowded Tokyo streets, he can hear it clear as day.

You’re right in front of him now, hair shining in the sun, eyes twinkling with that happy little grin he sees in his dreams. It’s unfair how happy you always look to see him. The thought that you might be is always his undoing.

“Hi,” he greets sheepishly, chastising himself for how stupid he knows he sounds, “What’re you–”

Whatever idiotic sentence he was set to spew is cut short when you reach up toward his head, and he doesn’t even realize he’s closing the distance your toes can’t reach. A little gasp of shock gets caught in Megumi’s throat as his face twists in confusion when you make contact, plucking a small pink cherry blossom petal from its icy entrapment. He can’t stop himself when his hand catches yours as you pull away, his eyes locked on the fragile, blushing scale between your fingers.

His technique had been active, he couldn’t even recall switching it off. But he had, clearly. Had it become an instinctual flip at the mere sight of you, a second nature? Warmth blossoms in his chest and radiates outward, it’s like the feeling of sun on a cold winter day. Even without looking at your face, he knows you’re confused, who wouldn’t be? You don’t understand the weight of this, no one does except the teenager standing behind him looking on at the scene.

Spring becomes summer when your other hand covers his, it’s shaking ever so slightly and he can’t bear the thought of looking at your face. Are you afraid? He couldn’t blame you. But he forgets that worry when you whisper his name again, nothing but a song in the breeze so quiet it only has the strength to reach his ears. He’s kissing your knuckles before his brain catches up, it’s too lost in thought, in you, in the smell of your floral perfume he’s come to associate with comfort and security. And when you don’t pull away he considers that perhaps his life doesn’t have to be shrouded in darkness.

“Hey,” the gruff voice of Megumi groans out, “How about instead of being a creep you just ask her to dinner?”

Masterlist

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk drabble

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

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Hey, I wanted to ask if you could write Kieran x gender neutral reader. Maybe they were friends when younger, and they met again after the indigo disk plot. But now the reader went from shy with long hair to extroverted with a more goth punk style and short hair. They go to Blueberry Academy with friends, and Kieran is kinda jealous of them, like MC, for it being so easy for them to make friends. So they have a sit down and talk it out with maybe a bit of romance sprinkled in.

I hope this isn't too long!! I really love your writing.

Aw thank you! This is fine and I decided to give Reader a Toxtricity as their partner Pokémon

..........

"Uwaaahh...uhuuuhuuh.."

"H-Hey, um...are you okay?"

Sniffling, the young boy looked up from his knees to see you standing over him, concerned. He tried wiping away his tears, but they just kept coming as he recalled some rather mean words spoken to him.

"I'm..f-fine.." He lied, clutching the broken pieces of his ogre mask.

"Are you sure? Because you're sitting all alone here, away from the festival with a broken mask.." You quietly pointed out, frowning.

"...the..jerks over there did it." He finally admitted, his gaze going to the fenced area where some kids were hanging around. "I-I thought they were my friends...and then they called me stupid for likin' the Ogre from those stories..."

"What? They sound like real bullies."

"A-All I said was that....I didn't think it was a bad guy..and then they...they told me they didn't wanna be my friend anymore...a-and now...I-I don't have ANY friends!! WAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

Although you were startled by his bawling, you couldn't help but feel bad for him. Leaving him alone certainly wasn't an option, so you sat down beside him, noticing the small Sentret that was trying to comfort him.

"There, there.." You awkwardly patted his back, feeling your face growing warm. Hopefully this wasn't too weird and you were actually helping this poor guy. "I don't have any friends, either. But I can be yours...i-if you'd like."

With a small hiccup, Kieran looked at you, his golden eyes large and full of tears. "Y-You wanna be my friend?" He sniffled. "Even though I like the "bad guy" of those stories?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that." You nodded softly, offering him a tiny smile. "I can relate to the Ogre, too. How lonely it must feel up there in the mountains..and um...how it just wants to be accepted."

He smiled back a little, although he was still depressed over the current state of his mask as he kept staring at it.

"Could I...buy you a new one of those? And a candy apple if you're hungry?"

Blinking, he gazed back up at you, stunned by your generosity. "Y-You don't have to do that.."

"But I want to. I just got my allowance so..I don't mind it." You shrugged, before you heard a familiar cry and looked to see your Toxel hobbling away from the festival grounds...

With candy razz berries on a stick.

"Oh no! Tox.." You bemoaned, huffing as the little baby Pokémon innocently waddled into your arms. "You can't wander off like that..a-and you certainly can't be stealing! You know we gotta pay for this, right?"

"Taahaa.." They cooed, already munching on the sweet treat.

"....fine..I'll let this slide because you're a cutie."

"Is that..a Toxel?"

"...o-oh!" Embarrassed, you turned back to Kieran and showed him Toxel. "Yes..sorry. This is my partner. We've been training a lot lately..but...as you can see, they've got ways to go. Haha.."

"You've done Pokémon battles? Wowzers.." He gazed at it in awe.

"Yeah..have you?" You asked.

".....no. I-I don't know anything about them. They're cool to watch but..I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to fight one myself.." He sighed, petting Sentret on the head. "I'm scared of Sentret getting hurt..e-especially by those..rude people."

At this revelation, your shoulders slumped. "Look....I get it, but if they see that you're afraid to battle, then...they'll just keep pushing you around."

"I know. I-I don't wanna be afraid anymore. But...my grandparents think I'm too young to be a trainer, a-and my sister thinks I'm too weak to even try...so I don't see a point..."

"..my own family doubted me, too." You remarked. "It was hard for Toxel and I, but..we had to go against their wishes. We had to become strong enough to stand up to our bullies..and we did. Now they fear the day this little sweetie grows up into a strong Toxtricity."

With a small coo, Toxel giggled and nuzzled your cheek with their forehead so they didn't accidentally shock you. "Taaaaataaa.."

"Yep." You giggled, before glancing back at Kieran, who looked extremely inspired by your words. "Maybe your Sentret will become a strong Furret someday, too. But...you'll have to train it first."

"And..wh-where do I start, if I may ask?" His voice became even quieter than yours.

"How about after the festival? You and I can have a practice battle."

He blinked. "..l-like tonight? With you?"

"Sure...if you're not busy, of course-"

"Oh no, I-I can definitely do that tonight!"

"Great! We'll just..go over the basics, that's all." You hopped to your feet as Toxel climbed onto your shoulder, and you offered your hand to the boy. "Also I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm [y/n]."

"Kieran." He had a shaky smile on his own face as he took your hand, letting you pull him up. "Th-Thanks for cheering me up...I think I'm ready to go back into the hall."

"Alright." With a small chuckle, you tied up your long hair before donning your mask, taking his broken one.

"C'mon, Kieran. First stop is the sweets shop...which candy apple do you like?"

"....and in Galar, Toxtricity had the power to Gigantamax. And they could turn into this awesome creature with a HUGE radio tower on their back. Oh, and they attack with a guitar made out of electricity!"

"Oh my Arceus!"

"That is sick!"

"We NEED to take a trip to Galar next year."

"Bro, maybe Piers can give you some more fashion tips. Because the punk is rocking."

"Thanks, haha..maybe I will."

As Kieran walked through the doors to the League Club, he heard the laughter and chatter of a group of people who were gathered at the table. Seeing new faces always caught him off-guard, considering how he somewhat left the organization in shambles..

He wasn't expecting so many to join, let alone scrap together enough BP to change the room's layout and usher in new additions--like that itemizer machine..

But it seems the rest of the Elite Four, plus Florian/Juliana, managed to rebuild the foundation and keep it alive. And even he thought this was for the best, as his burdens as both champion and leader were finally lifted from his shoulders.

While he hated that Paldean for "dethroning" him at first...he was actually relieved.

Now he was spending his time trying to make amends with everybody, feeling ashamed for the way he acted towards them--especially to the club members he took his anger out on. He kicked out one guy all because he couldn't meet his impossible standards.

Kieran did make sure he was back in the club..but even so, it took a while for that kid to forgive him.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy. Some people were still going to be bitter over what he did.

Fortunately, he can now enter the club room without feeling like everyone was staring at him, nor could he sense the heavy tension from the Elite Four as he walked past them. They just greeted him like an old friend before going back to their discussions.

When he was about to introduce himself to your group, however, he froze up the moment your eyes met his own...

At first, he was bewildered by the gothic-punk attire you've managed to incorporate into your uniform, complete with spiky bands and makeup. He's never seen any other student here test the waters of the dress code like you did.

Yet that wasn't what shocked him, but rather...the person underneath all of that.

You looked awfully familiar...

Where has he seen you before?

Funny enough, you were asking yourself that same question as you stared back up at this guy, trying to figure out why he was giving you such an odd look.

At first it seemed judgy.

But then you saw those familiar golden eyes, the black hair with purple highlights....you only ever knew one person with those characteristics.

"No way..Kieran?"

"....[y/n]?" He murmured, stunned. "You..remember me?"

"It took me a second, but wow...it really is you!" You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I haven't seen you in years, dude! And I know what you're gonna say...yes, I know I look like a Team Yell member. But I just like the fashion back in Spikemuth. It stuck with me."

"Wowzers...you went to Galar...?"

"Oh yeah. Went there to study and ended up staying a bit longer than I meant to...but it was great." Smiling, you rubbed the top of your head. "I got myself a nice trim while there. It was a much-needed change. Speaking of which....I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair up." You raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah..it was..getting in the way." Kieran brushed back his bangs, still reeling from the shock of seeing his childhood friend here at his school after all these years.

Not to mention how you presented yourself as this confident and boisterous person. Were you really that same shy long-haired friend he knew back in Kitakami?

"[Y/n], you know this guy?"

You both glanced back at your friend group, and you nodded. "Yep. He's an old friend from the Land of Kitakami. Honest to Arceus I had no idea he attended this school..but then again I literally just enrolled today. Either way, it's a nice surprise. Glad to see you again, Ki."

"Same." He nodded, although there seemed to be a certain sadness in his eyes as he stared at the people surrounding you, shoulders slumped. "Anyways, uh...I wanted to welcome you all to the club. I-I'll be back later. Bye, [y/n]."

With a nervous swallow, he quickly turned tail and left the clubroom, while your friends wondered why he looked at them all that way...

You believed you already knew the reason..

But when you saw their confused gazed, you just smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry about him, he's shy."

"Shy? But that guy used to be this school's champion!"

"...no way, really?" Your eyes widened, resting your arms on the tablr as you leaned towards one of your friends. "Tell me more."

.........

At the end of the day, the club was ready to close up shop. Everybody else had left except for you and Toxtricity.

You volunteered to stay late, picking up the messes your friends left behind, such as the opened snacks and sodas (some of them being from Drayton, of course). Amarys did promise you some BP for all your hardwork and willingness to accept responsibility, so that was motivation enough.

Despite the way you look, you weren't always some rebellious punk.

Just as you have both finished and were about to lock the door..you noticed Kieran approaching from down the hall, and he looked rather serious.

Finally, this was your chance to talk to him.

"Oh hey, Ki."

"Hey, [y/n]..is it just you here?" His gaze went past yours, eyes darting around the empty room.

"Nobody but me and Tox." You gestured to Toxtricity, who nodded and smiled, strumming the organs on their chest.

"I see they're all grown up, too." He remarked, sounding a bit more relaxed after realizing nobody else was around.

"That reminds me..how's your Sentret doing?"

"He's a Furret now. And he's doing just fine...but not on my main team, anymore. He's more like...an emotional support Pokémon, I guess?"

"Fair enough." You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around your companion's shoulders. "I learned there was more to Pokémon than just battling. They can be your best buddy, too."

"Right.." Kieran nodded, his smile fading.

You frowned a little. "Listen..I know this is kinda awkward. We haven't spoken in years, and I still feel bad for moving out of Kitakami without-"

"No, it's not that...I'm happy to see you again. I just.." He sighed, looking down at the floor. "You said..today was your first day here, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you've already made so many friends. It must feel nice.."

You were confused at his rather sour tone of voice, although you were anticipating this sort of confrontation, recalling how often he struggled to make and keep friends--besides you, of course.

But even now, it seems those insecurities never left him.

"D-Did I say that out loud?" Suddenly he tensed up, appearing a little scared. "I'm sorry, you can ignore me. I'm...tired. I-It's been a long day, so I'm just gonna-"

"Wait, Kieran."

Before he could turn around and leave, you took ahold of his arm, and he looked back at you with shock. "They didn't replace you if that's what you're worried about."

"...it's not that, either."

"Then...what is it?"

"You'll think it's stupid...." He mumbled, shaking his head.

"It's not stupid if it's clearly bothering you. Look, let's just..sit down and talk about it, okay? I'm not here to judge."

He blinked at your proposal, but eventually decided to sit at the table with you. Toxtricity crouched down next to your chair so you could pet them on the head.

It took a few moments for Kieran to start talking, yet with your silent encouragement...he finally spoke up.

"How do you make it look so...easy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you have all these friends now while I..." His voice trailed off, fists clenched on the table as he tried to keep himself calm. "..I-I can't name a single one other than you and Florian/Juliana. You'd think becoming champion and club president would make me super popular. But the truth is that it only made me feel more isolated. So how did you do it? How did you become so confident? Is there a secret or some code word I never knew about?"

"There's...no secret, Ki." You responded, your heart sinking. "Friendships just sorta..happen. Like ours did that day those jerks made fun of you at the festival of masks. I guess it was just....up to fate."

"...well I wish fate gave me the same luck as you." He bitterly muttered under his breath.

"Luck? No. That's...look, I'm not popular, and I'd never wanna be. Those people are my only friends here aside from you." You huffed. "I know I've changed since we last saw each other...but I'm still that same kid from before-"

"I barely recognized you, [y/n]." He bluntly pointed out. "We grew up together in the same place...but you went to Galar, changed your whole looks, and made so many friends here on your first day. Then there's me, who...h-hasn't really changed at all." His shoulders became slumped. "I've done things I'm ashamed of, and I'm trying to fix them, but I just feel...stuck. Like I'm never gonna move on from being that whiny little kid from Kitakami who keeps wishing he was somebody else.."

Your gaze softened a little, finally understanding his perspective. "Well..I personally don't see that anymore. I see you're trying to change for the better, and that's great. You should be proud of that."

Kieran blinked as your hand came to rest over his own, his heart skipping a beat. Yet he kept his focus on you and your comforting smile, despite finding it difficult to see the truth in your words.

He could feel that self-doubt festering inside him again.

"But..y-you don't know what I-"

"People here told me such awesome things about you, and I almost couldn't believe them."

He stared at you. "What? Really?"

"Yeah, dude! You never told me how your team uses a competitive setup with Rain Dance on the first turn...or how your Applin is all grown up into a Hydrapple. Hell, I didn't even know that was an existing evolution until today, so you taught me something new-"

However, you stopped rambling upon hearing a small sniffle coming from your friend. You then saw his lips trembling as he tried pushing back tears with his sleeve.

Internally you began to panic. "Ki? What's wrong?"

"I-I'm sorry. It's just....everybody here talks about my Pokémon and battle tactics all the time, but never about me." He whimpered. "I-I want people to like me for....me, you know?"

You nodded sympathetically, gently squeezing his hand. Guilt swelled in your heart as you never realized how lonely he must've felt since you left...and right now you probably made him feel ten times worse.

"You really are a great guy, though. Anyone would be lucky to get to know the real you."

"........."

Now you were a bit stumped on what to say next, as he was staring at the table now, sniffling like a little kid. And you began wracking your brain for any possible way you could cheer him up.

Then an idea sprung into your mind.

You were going to save it for a later occasion, but...now seemed to be the right time.

Even Toxtricity agreed with you, as they nudged your arm with a low growl, wishing you'd finally fess up and let him know how you truly felt about him.

Your heart was beating fast, but you pushed away the nerves and momentarily let go of his hand to retrieve a pokeball from your bag. He seemed too caught-up in his own thoughts to notice, still wiping away his tears.

"But y'know what could be better than having friends?"

With watery eyes, Kieran managed to look at you straight on. "What?"

You didn't say a word, instead turning his hand over and placing a love ball into his palm. He looked at you with confusion, before gasping as the device suddenly opened on its own to reveal....

A Shiny Applin.

"Wowzers.." He gawked. "So this is what their shinies look like??"

"Yep. Straight from Galar."

"The love ball is an interesting choice.." He remarked, watching as the Applin jumped onto the table and gazed at him. "But..while I appreciate the gift, I-I....don't really see how owning a shiny is gonna help-"

"Oh, so he doesn't know, Tox..." You whispered to your companion, who simply snickered back.

"Tahaahaa.."

"....know what?" Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the smirks you and Toxtricity were exchanging, growing more and more confused and concerned. "Can someone explain?"

"In Galar, people give Applins to each other as a romantic gesture." You stated bluntly, feeling your face burn up....but you prayed he would finally get the hint.

It took him about five seconds, his jaw dropping. "What??? Y-You.....really see me that way?" His heart began racing all over again. "Why me, though?"

"I like you for you, Ki. And that's all there is to it." You leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, watching as his eyes went wide and his blush worsened. "Hm, I guess that shy little cutie is still in there after all."

"C'mon..stop that.." Huffing, he shrunk back into his jacket in a vain attempt to hide his flusteredness. "I-I do like you, too."

"I'm glad, and I promise..I'm sticking around for a long, long time." You looked to Toxtricity, who strummed a small riff on their chest. "I owe Tox one for finding that love ball for me. I was gonna save it for some fairy type, but...I think I found a better use for it."

All Kieran could do was smile and nod, taking your hands into his own. While he was still too flushed to properly speak, he was nowhere near as sad as he was before your confession.

You were right.

This was a LOT better than having friends.

Because now he had you.

While both of your looks and personalities have definitely changed, the love and care you had for each other never did.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #indigo disk x reader #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader

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try-set-me-on-fire · 9 months

Text

I didn't see temptation tuesday going around but I am thinking about like 15 years from now a new recruit coming to the 118 and being greeted by friendly captain Diaz with the birthmark and hair all sprinkled with gray and the fondness for nicknames and penchant for making extremely organized lists and "oh my kid is about your age" and he makes the best food when it's his turn in the kitchen oh my god, but everyone else on the team talks up his rivalry with the other captain Diaz over at the 133 and like Buck seems so nice the new recruit cant imagine its that bad. And then one day they're out at a big fire and the 133 is already there and Buck saunters up like "well well well if it isn't firefighter Diaz" and Eddie is like "it's Captain Diaz to you" and his back is turned so the probie cant see the absolutely fond look on his face. They're like oh shiiiiiit the rivalry is real!!! But the captains Diaz seem to work really well together and Eddie ends up having to go in the structure and gets his shoulder dislocated or something and Buck knows he has to stay out here and does, they've done this over and over, he trusts both their teams to have their backs, but he also doesn't really breathe until Eddie's sitting at the back of an ambulance with a paramedic popping his shoulder back into place. They hold each other for a minute and the probie who's like handling hoses here at their first five alarm a few feet away is like BUG EYES at them as Eddie is like alright when's your shift over you wanna just pick me up from the hospital? And Buck is like yeah not too long left, I'll be there, I love you. And then when the ambulance has pulled away he sees the look on the probies face and cracks up. "They told you about our rivalry, huh?" He smiles, eyes all crinkly. "Yep, it's true... For almost one whole shift I hated that man's guts. And I've loved him ever since."

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casuallyawkardd · 8 months

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Hi! Can you do a Miguel x f!reader fic where they're dating? It's expensive to live in Nueva York and the reader overworks herself at a thankless job with a pervy boss but she can't find work anywhere else. She doesn't tell Miguel about her bosses advances because she doesn't want him to worry about her but the signs are getting harder to hide.

This request sparks joy, I enjoy all the fluff I've been writing lately, but deep down I'm just an angsty little bean who likes sprinkling trauma into my writing 😇

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Warnings: MATURE THEMES MINORS DNI! Not explicit but noncon so deaddove?, sexual themes, Miguel does a no-no but it's an accident, angst, hurt/comfort

Everything had started out so promising. It was your first 'big girl' job. Well, technically not, but it was your first job in which your degree actually came in handy. It seemed like a dream come true when looking through rose colored glasses. A salary paying job at a respectable company, the annual income promising that you wouldn't have to be living paycheck to paycheck, the days of barely paying rent on time a distant memory.

The first month was the honeymoon phase, your new team being extremely helpful in showing you the ropes and helping you to establish a new routine. After being in a year-long rut, things finally seemed to be going your way. With the new job and a loving boyfriend, what could go wrong?

You didn't notice the red flags right away when you met your boss. In all honesty, he reminded you of Miguel, making you feel at ease around him. Like Miguel, he was tall and well built, tanned skin and dark hair. However, at the same time, the two had their differences. Your boss, though he had his own charms, wasn't as handsome as Miguel; he was also much more jovial than him. Everyone in the office seemed to like him, the young interns and some of the older office ladies gushing over him in secret. At the time, you had even joked that you'd shoot your shot with him if you weren't already in a happy relationship.

It was a gradual change. He had always been friendly with you, hell he was friendly with everyone, going out of his way to make conversation with you and bring you a cup of coffee when he came in in the morning. Then came the touching, his hand lingering longer than they should on your shoulders or resting on the small of your back to guide you closer to him. You thought it was weird, that feeling in your gut telling you something was wrong, but his casual nature and pearly whites would have you second guessing yourself. Maybe you were overthinking things?

Your answer came after a company dinner. It was late and he had offered to walk you home. Miguel was busy with work and the coworkers that were still there were people you didn't know very well, so you took him up on the offer. Everything seemed fine, the two of you walking side by side, keeping up friendly conversation and even sharing a few laughs. When you arrived at your apartment building, turning to say thank you and goodnight, that hand was at your waist once again. Pulling you to him, his head lowering to meet yours and your eyes widened in horror at what was clearly about to happen.

Quickly, you stiff armed him, creating much needed distance, the hand on your back seeming to hold on a little tighter. "I have a boyfriend," you reminded him, a fact you knew he was aware of.

He had just shrugged, "Who says he has to know?" your boss replies in that same, casual tone. When he doesn't see an inkling of humor cross your face, he backpedals, releasing you and holding his hands up in surrender. "Kidding, kidding, have a good night," the asshole tries to laugh it off, retreating back the way he had come. You return to the safety of your building, which doesn't feel as safe as it used to, now that he knew where you lived.

That was around the time your life at work started to go downhill as well. Your coworkers weren't as friendly, whispering behind their hands and throwing dirty looks in your direction. Your boss seemed to become more and more aggressive with his advances. Quite literally backing you into a corner when you're sitting at your desk or in the breakroom. He continuously asked you out, which you resorted to flat out telling him 'no' after multiple attempts of being polite about it. Everytime you reject him, it felt like he expected you to work later or show up earlier, scolding you when you don't comply.

It felt like it's you against the company. The work losing its enjoyment and the people who you thought were your friends now the bane of your existence. Why was this happening? What had you done wrong?

"Why don't you talk to HR?" your best friend suggests one night while you're venting.

"I did about some people, the ones who were real nasty at least," you reply with a heavy sigh, "but it feels like it's everyone. And my boss?" you groan woefully, "I get the feeling he'd just fire HR if they said someone reported him."

The frown on your friend's face deepens, a look of pity in their eye. "Well, what about your boyfriend? Does he know?"

You don't respond right away, pursing your lips a moment, "No, he doesn't."

"You should tell him!" your friend snaps at you, lightly slapping your shoulder, "He's scary right? I bet your boss would think twice about looking your way if he got his ass kicked."

"Yeah, maybe..." you don't doubt it. There had been times when you had thought about it, maybe even fantasized about Miguel showing up at your work and pummeling your boss in his stupid, charming face; and yet you haven't breathed a word about it to your other half. But, you already know why you haven't.

When Miguel and you had first started dating, he had been closed off. Understandably so, given the brief background he had told you about himself, it didn't surprise you that he had a hard time trusting people. Then one day, there was a shift, as if a switch had been flipped. He was happier around you, more affectionate. A soft smile on his face whenever you caught him staring at you, a gentle chuckle even if you weren't trying to be funny.

"Is everything...okay?" you ask him one night, the two of you lying in bed. Miguel has his head on your chest, a large arm lazily slung over your middle while you absentmindedly played with his hair.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he responds, lifting his head enough to glance up at you.

"You're just...different."

"Is it a good different?"

You smile at his change in expression. How he reminds you of a child worried they had done something wrong. "Yeah, it is good," you agree, bringing his face closer to kiss the spot between his brows. When you pull back, he moves closer. Shifting so he's above you, lips searching for yours. When they connect, it's electric. A buzz promising what's to come.

He pulls away enough to speak, "Works been a pain," he confesses, "between my duties as Spider-Man and maintaining the peace with the other universes, I can't seem to catch a break," there's a hint of annoyance in how he speaks that seems to grow the longer he thinks about it, but he catches himself. Taking a deep breath through his nose and letting out the same way, "But it's different with you. I feel like I can finally be at ease with you."

And there it is. The reason you've kept your mouth shut for months. The preservation of the little bubble Miguel and you have created. You were finally his safe space, someone he could relax around. Someone to provide a much needed calm to his already hectic life. It was something you had found in him months ago, but now the feeling was mutual, and you didn't want to ruin it.

It's not that bad, you told yourself, I can handle myself. That's what you tell yourself, after every lingering look from your boss and every snide comment your other coworkers give you. Miguel always said you were tough, joking that you'd have to be to date someone like him.

You didn't feel so tough tonight.

Work had been hard, with deadlines just around the corner, everyone was on edge. A little more venom behind their biting words, but that's not what led you to where you were now. Standing outside your apartment door, trembling as you fiddle with your keys and trying to hold back the tears until you were safely inside.

It was that asshole boss of yours again, only this time he had gone too far. Well, tried to at least. You had already come to terms with the fact he'd make you stay later than everyone else, working until the streetlights flicked on and even a little after. He had come over to your desk as you were putting your things in your bag, half paying attention to what he was saying. You were tired, ready to call it for the day, ready to go home and rest and-

Strong arms wrapped around you, making you stiffen in fear as what occurred a little over an hour ago replays in your head. The smell of takeout from your favorite Thai place brings you back and you're able to breathe a sigh of relief when you hear a familiar chuckle fill the air.

"Did I scare you, amor?" Miguel teases, releasing you and coming to stand at your side.

You crane your neck to look up at him, the look of fear now dissipated to one of surprise, "I thought we agreed to reschedule?" You had. While taking the train, clearly still shaken as you struggled to text him that your date would have to be another night. 'Had a rough day at work,' was your excuse. It wasn't a lie, just the truth with a few crucial details plucked out.

Miguel shrugged, taking your keys from your hand so he could pick out the right one for the front door. "I know," he explained, twisting the lock, "but I figured we could have a night in. Some takeout, maybe some episodes of that show you like-oh, baby you ripped your skirt," the small smile on his face drops as he spots the said rip, calloused fingers pinching the fabric before letting it go and heading inside the apartment.

It's your turn to look down at it, the urge to cry only growing at the sight, thinking it must have been torn by the metal desk in your struggles. This was your favorite skirt, Miguel's too from how he couldn't keep his hands off you when you wore it. You had planned on meeting up for your date right after work, so you had decided to wear your date night outfit to the office to save yourself a trip. It seemed like a harmless idea at first, but it turns out Miguel wasn't the only one who noticed you wearing it.

You followed at a slower pace, shutting and locking the door behind you. Including the deadbolt, something you did on occasion when you felt like you needed it. With a heavy sigh, you perked up as best you could and went to the living room; Miguel was already there on the couch waiting.

The evening went just as Miguel had suggested, your new show had a couple new episodes for you to catch up on, all while nibbling on the greasy food your partner had brought over. Under different circumstances, you would have considered tonight to be a perfect night in. A part of you felt bad, curled up on the opposite end of the couch from Miguel. Your appetite wasn't all there, only eating some of the steamed vegetables at the top of the box before setting it on the coffee table. Miguel had taken notice, of course he did, but as to why you were acting so strange he had no clue.

"Just been a long day," was all you said, forcing a smile to which he returned. When you had run out of episodes, you stood to take the leftovers to the fridge. Falling into routine gave you a sense of security, moving to start your evening chores next. Miguel called out, asking if you wanted help, but you turned him down. Wanting some time alone.

It turned out to be both a good thing and a bad one as well. The good being you were finally able to decompress, have some time to yourself where you didn't have to pretend to be okay. However, that meant you were left alone with your thoughts. The only ones in your head being about your boss. What he did...or rather tried to do.

You felt stuck, not sure if speaking up would make things worse. Your coworkers already hated you, talking bad about your 'perfect' boss would probably only make things worse. How could he even do that? To think you used to compare him to Miguel of all people. Miguel would never make you feel the way he did. Embarrass you, degrade you, hurt you-

The clinking of dishes brought you back to yourself, looking down at your shaking hands. You picked up the glass you had dropped in the sink, finishing up the last of the dishes and putting them aside to dry. Once done, you leaned against the counter, hands pressed into the hard edge of it. You blinked back the tears, trying to shake the dark thoughts from your mind. You weren't gonna cry, not again, not because of him.

"It feels like you've been in here forever, cariño," Miguel's baritone purrs in your ear out of the blue, a sort of warning as his arms wrap themselves around you again. And yet you still jumped, Miguel chuckling against your ear. "You're so jumpy tonight," he hummed, "I think you're letting work stress you out too much." Well that was an understatement.

"You're not one to talk," you reply, a bit more bite to your tone than intended, but Miguel seems too distracted to notice.

"Hmm, I think we both are due for some destressing," he murmured, fingers gliding your hair aside to plant some gentle kisses along your neck. It was a familiar dance with him, his lips trailing across your skin while his hands roamed elsewhere, alluding to what was to come. Normally, it was something you'd eagerly lean into, but today had been far from normal.

"Honey..." you tell him softly, trying to nudge him back with your shoulders, but it only seemed to make him want to be closer.

"Shh, I'll take care of you, mi amor," he soothed, planting a kiss on your cheek before coming down to resume nipping at your jawline.

"Miguel, come on," you tried to laugh it off, tried to keep your cool, but the tremor in your hands seemed to only worsen. It wasn't him, your feelings right now weren't because of him, but every touch brought you back to the office. Just tell him, the thought crosses your mind, but the stubborn part of you holds your tongue. Miguel hadn't done anything out of your usual comfort zone, even now he probably assumed you were playing coy like usual, not understanding the gravity of the situation. Why did he have to feel just like him? Firm body on your back pressing you into a hard surface, lips ghosting over your neck, teeth teasingly biting at the flesh, one hand untucking your shirt and sliding underneath the fabric to grope at your breast, the other hand gliding up your thigh, palming you from behind before migrating to the front, fingers inches closer to your center...

"Miguel, stop!" your mouth moves of its own accord. Adrenaline gives you the strength to push him back, the kitchen becoming almost deadly quiet. Your eyes are locked on the tile floor, not looking him in the eye. You couldn't look him in the eye, the thought alone of what face he was making causing your chest to tighten. The confusion, surprise, maybe even heartbreak.

The silence is broken as a sob rips from your throat, your hands covering your mouth to quiet the ones that follow. The tears are flowing freely now, wetting your cheeks and softly landing on the ground. "I...I'm sorry," Miguel's voice sounds so far away. "I didn't..I thought-"

"You didn't do anything," you speak and he goes quiet immediately. He's patient, waiting for you to continue. It's almost like an out of body experience, you lashing out seeming to open the flood gates. You tell him everything, how things at work had been going downhill for months after your boss tried to kiss you, your asshole coworkers turning on you and your even bigger asshole of a boss not taking no for an answer. The expectations of working longer hours than you were paid for. The stress, the frustration, the feeling of preservation so as not to ruin the dynamic you two had created. Your gibberish eventually leading into what had happened earlier that night.

"...I had to stay late, a-and my boss said he needed to talk and-and-"

"What did he do?" Miguel interjects and your mouth clamps shut. Tongue feeling too big to even get the words out, "Mi amor, look at me," he doesn't demand it, he pleads, the unexpectedness of it making you look up. When your eyes meet, something seems to click for him, realization flickering in his eyes. There's anger, the kind you never would want directed at you, but then they soften. As if realizing the fury he wanted to unleash wasn't meant for you. Never for you. "Y/N..."

"Don't touch me," you snap at him, regretting it immediately after. Miguel had only taken half a step, but stopped immediately at your command. It hurt him and you could tell, wanting to hold you and comfort you, but unable to. Not when his touch made the memories all the more fresh.

"Ay dios mío..." he mutters, hands going to his hips as he doesn't know what to do with them now. The kitchen goes quiet again, aside from your small sobs. Miguel sets his jaw, something he does when he has something to say, but doesn't know how to. "Did he..?"

"Miguel, please-"

"I know, amor, I know. I don't want to make you talk about it if you're not ready to, but-" he pauses, lips pressed in a fine line, pain etched into his expression. "I just-I have to know. The thought of you getting hurt and I wasn't there to stop it..baby please, for me. I feel like I'm being eaten up from the inside."

You believe him, every word. He was used to being the one to save the day, you couldn't imagine how he felt knowing he wasn't there for who he cared for most. You let out a deep breath to calm down, "No, he didn't," you answer and you can almost see the tension leave his body. At least some of it.

"What do you need? Anything. Let me help you, don't shut me out, please...You've been there for me when I needed you, please let me be there for you, please?" he almost tries to step closer to you, stopping himself like it's the hardest thing he's ever done.

You bite your lip in thought, contemplating what to suggest. Not just for you, but him as well. Miguel was always the one who knew what to do, so the feeling of being unsure was clearly foreign to him. "Honestly, I just want to take a bath."

"A bath? I can do that. Just..give me a minute," he's scrambling, it's a side of him you'd never seen. Miguel shuffling as he remembers how to move, practically running to the bathroom with unnecessary vigor, hissing out some Spanish curses when he clips himself in the side with the island counter. His eagerness has you laughing softly, momentary joy fluttering through you before the weight of your evening sets back in.

The sound of the tub filling, along with the sound of Miguel moving about the bathroom is endearing, the man himself returning to you quickly to let you know it was ready. The set up alone is a comforting sight, the scent of lavender coming from the water, one of your incense candles gently burning. The mirror was fogged up, letting you know that the water was just the right temperature. It was all so simple and yet just what you needed.

Miguel waits beside you with bated breath, the small smile you give him a sign of reassurance. He offers to wait in the living room, hoping you don't send him away to be alone like you had originally intended when you got home, but you stop him.

"I don't want to be alone."

It's contradictory, but he doesn't question it. Doesn't even furrow his brow in confusion like he usually would. The two of you don't speak, Miguel sitting on the floor, back resting against the side of the tub, all while you undress and slip into the welcoming water. You let out an audible sigh of relief, letting the suds surround you as you lie back. After a moment, you glance Miguel's way, seeing that his eyes are glued to the far wall. He's trying to be respectful, you acknowledge, trying to be there for you while also not making you feel even more uncomfortable.

His presence alone is a comfort, the image of an overprotective guard dog making you smile once more. It's a moment filled with comfortable silence, the kind you only ever seemed to find with him. You almost don't want it to end, but the cooling of the water and the pruning on your fingertips lets you know it's time to get out.

"Hey," you say, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and making him jerk slightly in surprise. He looks over at you expectantly, eyes averting to the side so he doesn't seem like he's staring. "I think calling it early for the night would be good. Put this shitty day behind me."

"Yeah, I agree," he nods slowly, getting to his feet and heading to the door. "I put some clothes on the counter for you, I'll give you some privacy," he points to the said folded clothes, your gaze following his finger.

"Thanks," you smiled at him and he hummed in response. Miguel was being distant, but you knew the intent was to be for your benefit. Give you the space you had asked for earlier and being there when requested. "I'll meet you in the bedroom." It's more of a way to clarify than anything, you were sure Miguel had already resolved to sleeping on the couch tonight. His wariness seems to lessen, stepping a little lighter as he leaves the bathroom.

You take your time with draining the tub, drying off with a towel and slipping into your pajamas. They're comfortable, baggy and soft on your skin. You fall back into your nightly routine of brushing your teeth, washing your face and even popping a melatonin gummy in your mouth just in case.

Miguel is sitting stiffly in your bed, propped up, under the covers and hands folded together in his lap. It's almost comical, how he looks like a teenage boy awaiting the moment he finally loses his V card, but you don't dare tease him about it. Not when he's been so understanding all evening.

Sliding in beside him, you scoot until your thigh touches his, "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," you tell him, not sure what else to say.

He doesn't miss a beat, "You have nothing to be sorry for, cariño," he reassures you with ease, hesitantly placing a hand on your thigh over the sheets. When you don't flinch away, he gives it a comforting squeeze. "What're you thinking right now? I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty head of yours," he attempts to lighten the mood, something you also appreciate.

You scoff, rolling your eyes tiredly, "I don't even know anymore. Everything feels so unreal," you run a hand through your hair, sighing. "I don't know what I'm going to do now. What I'm going to do now, how I'm going to even face him, what's gonna happen at work..."

"Don't worry about that right now," he interjects, "let's just go to bed, like you wanted to. Do you...want me to hold you?"

You nod, Miguel kissing your hairline as the two of you silently adjust until you're in your usual sleeping positions. Miguel on his back, while you slept on your side with one arm and one leg draped over him. One of his arms wrapped under you, a hand resting on your lower back so his thumb could trace small circles into the muscles there. As your body relaxed into his, fitting against his side like it was meant to be there, you felt at peace. At home even.

The firmness of him against your side didn't seem to trigger your traumas anymore, the idea that Miguel and your boss were similar now a distant memory. The fact you had thought of them as so alike seemed silly now. Your boss may be tall, tanned and well built like Miguel, but he wasn't warm like him. His hands had been cold when they violated you, something Miguel's never were. The kind of warmth that seemed to make everything else go away, even if for a moment. The kind that made you feel safe and loved, everything you needed and more. When you needed it most.

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @qiaipia @melovetitties @thedevax @erissco @leo-lvr@stqrlightrs

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #x reader #anon ask #lovely anons

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maehemthemisfit · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄

ask — Can I ask you that the reader 💋 them while they are 😥 and 💙 in order to 😇 them, (I really hope this makes sense) Characters: Scaramouche & Xiao (This is my first time requesting something, hopefully I did it right ☠️) - requested by @oddshroom

a/n — this took me so unbelievably long to write but I'm working on my emoji asks now! okay so apparently I have no self control when it comes to writing scara so this ended up being 3k instead of 500≤1k so I'm making this separate from the xiao's. also dw love, you did it absolutely right so it was clear and concise <3

pairing — [ scaramouche x gn!reader + 💋 kissing them while they're 😥 having a nightmare and 💙 playing with their hair in order to 😇 comfort them]

edited by: my homegirl @xiao6ao

masterlist / xiao post / emoji prompt list

Since when was the melody of screams this unpleasant? Or perhaps, maybe it was never a sweet tune to begin with.

The crackling of fire howled and filled his ears, yet he watched silently as the flames ate away at the wooden structure, devouring the joyous memories he created there. Ashes sprinkled the blazing air, scurrying around like fire flies and filling his lungs.

His breathing was shallow, huffs of air spilling from his chest and reminding him of how human he seemed. But he could never be human, not when his chest was but a hollow cavern, overflowing with nothing but broken dreams and empty promises. His fingers trembled beside him, and subconsciously, he backed away from the dazzling light.

Why was he afraid? How could he be afraid? After all, he was the one who’d started the fire.

"N-No..." Scaramouche whispered, his eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the scene before him. "This... this already happened. Why am I seeing this again?" He looked to his palms— a desperate attempt at gathering his sense of self— but upon seeing his old attire, he found himself inarticulate.

This can't be. It was like he was back to being—

"Kunikuzushi," That voice... that was- "Why did you do this?" The child cried, clutching a familiar doll to his chest. It was threaded with such precision and care, casting in his mind a fond memory of the weeks he spent learning how to sew such a thing with his past friend.

Then the sight of the child’s charred skin hit him, and the endearing thought was discarded. He looked just as he did so long ago— sick, fragile.

But his eyes, oh his eyes told another story.

Scaramouche remembered his eyes, always full of wonder and curiosity, much like his own when he was just a fledgling. Those eyes that would beam up at him as the child tugged him away to a new discovery. Those eyes that would melt close as a smile formed on the child's lips. Those eyes, that were now boring holes into his own, absent of life and that childlike glee he was once accustomed to. Those eyes that were now swirling with fear, fear that was now directed at him.

"I didn't—!!" Scaramouche found himself choking, misery seeping into the depths of his chest and pouring out into his voice. He felt utterly nauseous at the sight before him, heaving breaths of uncertainty as hot tears began to spill from his indigo hues.

Shakily, he brought a hand to his mouth, searching for the words he wanted to say. "I didn't mean to... you- you broke your promise..."

The child took a step back, "Promise? What promise?" The puppet’s brows furrowed at the confusion on the child’s face, the air getting all the more jeering— threatening to strangle him— the longer they spoke.

"You said we were family. You said you would never abandon me," Scaramouche recalled. Abandon. Just the word sizzled and left a bitter taste on his tongue.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all.

“I didn’t abandon you,” the boy managed to retort, his voice scarcely a rasp. “I died!” He choked on a fit of coughs as he succumbed to the illness both his parents fell to.

Abandon… die…

Those were two completely different words, were they not? Yet, somehow, the discarded creation had found the two synonymous. The concept of death was still foreign to him all those years ago, and the timing was impeccable, as if someone were pulling the strings to all his misfortune. One betrayal after another. It was a deadly recipe of disaster that bubbled over into impulsive decisions and, finally, the roaring flames before him.

And now, he could only witness this village burn all over again— brick by brick, plank by plank— and watch the terror in the eyes of the one he called his friend, of the people he held close to where his heart should be, resurface from ashes long gone.

Damn it. It's not fair. It's not fair at all.

Another staggering step, and the flames began clawing at the child’s leg, searing deeper into his already charred skin. "Wait! Please!" Scaramouche shouted, lunging forward towards the kid now set ablaze and embraced in the wild, untamed fire. “Don’t leave me—" No, not “—again.”

But it was all in vain. He pleaded. He cried. He called, yet no one came.

His fingers crossed the child's, the doll slipping from the child's grasp and into the desperate puppet's hands. And without skipping a beat, the child burst into cinders before his eyes.

The ground kissed his knees as he collapsed, trembling hands digging into the veil that did little to shield him from the raging light. Within seconds, it was torn to shreds and soaked in the tears that he bled.

He wept, voice barely above a whisper. "Why couldn't it have been me…" Those tears, those pathetic emotions he harbored, why couldn't they stop? Why did it hurt so bad? Why did everyone leave him?

A dry, forced chuckle passed his lips that were drenched with the downpour from his eyes. He wiped them.

"Maybe I am just some faulty being." He looked up at the stars that watched in silence above him, ignoring his pleas for help. Gods… humans… even the stars were nothing but lies.

It was only then that a sensation ran down his neck, causing him to flinch from the sudden sense of touch. He whimpered despite trying his best not to, yet what he felt wasn't in the slightest unpleasant.

He leaned into it, eyes growing heavy with whatever was circling his skin, the pain that drenched him before growing numb as the flow of his tears drew softly to a stop. He felt small, yet safe under this eerie yet familiar touch, like an angel was embracing him and shielding him away from the tragedies that plagued the world.

A trickle of hope poured into him, flooding a soothing warmth through the chest that had been poisoned by a twisting ache. His fist unraveled the tattered veil, his hands now clinging onto something more plush and soft, though he couldn't see.

It told him he was fine. He was safe. He was sound.

Sound?

The air caught his mind, now devoid of the screams that smothered him just moments before. Even the crazed laments of the fire ceased, replaced by the quiet pitter patter of falling droplets— none of which he felt.

What he did feel was something soft showering his face, warm and featherlike, and another delicate touch swaying back and forth over his cheek, creating a peaceful harmony within his settling mind.

Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he pulled himself closer, his legs rubbing against silky fabric instead of the ashened ground of what had once been his home. His arms drew himself closer against whatever was bringing him comfort, the sound of something beating surprisingly washing away the rest of his worries. He drifted far away from the panic that once overcame him, the raging storm in his head now reduced to calm waves of water, carrying him safely back to reality into the arms of an angel.

His eyes, tired and spent, fought to open. His vision made out from blurring colors the sight of another person laying beside him. They leaned into him, and he felt the same featherlike sensation on his forehead. A voice he recognized— he had yet to decipher the words— filled his ears.

It was…

Before his eyes could fully adjust, he was already curling against your chest, fingers softly grabbing your shirt and tugging like his life depended on it. In an instant, the world came rushing in, his lungs breathing in the calming air of the small apartment you shared.

He was fine. He was safe. He was with you.

He called your name, his voice cracking as a groan slipped past him, muffled by his face pressing into you. Memories of his nightmare crashed back in restless waves, threatening to drown him once again. He coughed, attempting to speak through labored breaths.

"I s-saw… my, I-'' Scaramouche hiccuped, his body starting to shake like the harsh winters of Snezhnaya was biting through his porcelain skin.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, take your time.” You were quick to silence him, whispering affirmations in the mist of night for only his ears to hear. He clutched onto you tighter. “It’s okay love, I’m here.”

After the countless years of suffering the puppet endured, he wasn’t fond of being touched by any living being— at least, not after all the torturous poking and prodding he was subjected to during Dottore’s experiments, whilst promises of “making him stronger” or “unlocking his true divinity” fell on deaf ears as he withered in pain.

But you? He couldn’t help but melt under your irenic touch, something that was foreign to him for decades. It took awhile for him to adjust to your displays of affection, but eventually your arms became his new safe haven, something that was all apparent now as you rubbed gentle strokes against his back, the sobs that were born from his horrid dream now dying down to soft sniffles and hums.

The moon glowed in all its glory in the blanket of night, illuminating the two lovers cuddled closely together like birds in a nest. Its silver glow became sparkles in the stray tears that spilled over his cheeks, your hands calmly wiping them as they fell. He came to realize over some time that the featherlike touches he felt prior were you pressing kisses to his face.

The moon came and fled as the sun put it to rest, painting the darkened skies in shades of blue and red. Its rays glimmered, peaking through the window and shedding its warmth on the both of you. By then, the wandering puppet’s tear stained cheeks were dried, his breathing leveled, and eyes half lidded, swirling with bouts of serenity.

Your hand was idly playing with his hair, gently combing through and dividing pieces that fell across his face. A comfortable silence filled the air, only penetrated by the whisper that flew past your lover’s lips, calling your name. You hummed as his hand slowly crept from under the covers, reaching out to grab yours from his strands and bringing it to his chest. His warm breath tickled your skin when he sighed, the feeling being overthrown when his lips kissed the back of your palm, lingering for nearly a minute.

“Do you…” He spoke softly, still firmly holding onto you, yet his voice sounded far off, eyes distant and hazy. “Do you think I’m evil?”

The question dripped from his lips like dew to a leaf, dropping into your ears for your brain to soak it in. Melancholy sprouted from it, growing vines that entangled your heart.

The word evil ran through your head, such a harsh term to describe someone, you scrutinized. Could you really compare the word to the former harbinger lying across from you? Perhaps his past actions, but…

Do evil people cry genuine tears? Do evil people feel remorse for their wicked deeds? What truly defines evil anyway?

The fluttering of wings fanned your clouded thoughts, your answer becoming clear along with the sound of birds chirping. You tugged at the vines clenching your heart, ripping them with ease as you looked at the man in question.

“Doing good things doesn’t make you a good person,” you imparted, staring honestly into his alluring eyes. He listened intently as you spoke, hanging off of every word like a puppet to a string. “And doing bad things doesn’t make you a bad person either.”

The foggy look in his eyes finally cleared.

“I think you experienced the worst parts of the world before you could understand the beauty of it, which led to your notorious doings.” You adjusted your hand to hold his, and he gave you a gentle squeeze as your thumb caressed circles into his. “But if we look back to your ‘previous incarnation’ without your memories, or your titles before Balladeer, would you call them evil as well? Would the people who knew you then describe you in such a way?”

The question floated in the air. A quizzical frown assuming the puppet’s features. For a second, he was back in his dream again— images of fire and ash tainting his mind. He remembered those eyes that were swirling with fear, anxiety threatening to crawl up his spine again.

He was fine. He was safe. He was…

“I didn’t abandon you,” The child's voice played back in his head, oddly sounding more soft compared to the voice he heard in his dream. Another recollection filled his thoughts— it was the sight of the child pulling him eagerly, a wide grin adorning his chubby cheeks, a giggle followed by his own filling the air as he allowed the kid to guide him to some growing lavender melons.

"I- I can't reach it. Awhh," The child pouted, looking away from the tree dejectedly.

"They are pretty high up," Scara- no, Kunikuzushi observed, bringing a hand to his chin. "You'll be able to reach them if I give you a lift though."

"Really? Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! You're really the best ya know, and d-don't forget it either!" The child cheered, jumping up and down in his small burst of excitement before calming down. He tired easily, no matter what he did.

"I'm the best? But I'm just a mere—"

The small mortal coughed weakly, balling his fist right after and shouting a heartfelt declaration. "Puppet this, puppet that. You're a good person and you're a good friend. There's no if, ands, or buts about it,"

He couldn't help but reciprocate the child's smile.

"I- I guess you have a point," Kunikuzushi hummed, his face blooming a pretty pink as he tried to hide under his veil. "You know… you sound a lot like an old friend of mine.”

The memory faded as quick as it came, his shoulders now relaxed and expression thoughtful. You assumed he reached the same answer as you.

They wouldn't call him evil. Never in a million years.

“I couldn’t either," You answered his thoughts, bringing your hand back to card through his hair. "Which is why I don't think you're the monster you make yourself out to be."

He wanted to laugh, but he found himself without a voice. All those questions he aimlessly sought answers to. He’d even asked the God of Wisdom the same thing, yet her answer was quite different from yours. But could he really take your words to heart— or hold it above the words of a god? Would her answer change if he asked her again? Would your answer change if he wronged you?

He was fine. He was safe. He was good.

The sounds of rain dwindled as the critters of light rustled away, chirping and hollering to the sun’s presence. By now, its light blanketed you both, whisking off the drowsiness as you rubbed your eyes. You were in the midst of calling your lover’s name when his fingers wrapped around your leg, pulling it over his hip to bring you close once again.

He cupped your face, your eyes instinctively closing as his lips embraced yours, the warmth of his touch enough to rival the sun and the shine of the moon. No celestial body could reap what the two of you had sown beautifully together.

You held his past, present, and future, carried his vices and virtues, wiped his tears and tore down his walls even when he built them up too high.

You stayed, even when he couldn't give you his heart.

He was enough, you reminded him proudly each day. He was safe. He was fine. He was loved.

"I love you," Scaramouche found himself mumbling against your lips, breathing out a content sigh when the two of you finally parted.

It was the first time he initiated such a declaration, and while he'd never admit how much it affected him, the shy smile carved into his face spoke it well enough. His passionate gaze lit a thousand flames in your soul and it was your turn to fall into the rabbit hole of his beauty.

With another quick kiss, you touched your foreheads together, your voice a lullaby to his ears as you chimed the words that always made him feel something skip a beat in his chest.

"I love every part of you, and never forget that," you huffed, feigning a pouty expression to entice a smile— which he effortlessly gave.

"Don't worry, I won't," he laughed heartily this time, making an effort to find your hand and intertwining your pinkies. He brought them to his chin, pecking the side of your hand once more. "I promise."

TAGLIST — @sonder-paradise @96jnie @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss

reblogs appreciated (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

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annoyingenthusiastperfection · 10 months

Text

Summary : headcanon version¡ Miles (42! & 1610!) Hobie brown , Pavtir Prabhakar , and gwen stacy. Finding out your Mlp collection.

Miles Morales

●It all started with u beeing good at drawing horses. Miles was impressed and asked how you draw so good.

"LIKE HOW??? ARE YOU SO GOOD AT DRAWING HORSES???

"Its cause I drew them alot"

●Miles was amazed on how knowledgeable about real facts on horses and the mythologyical one too. Unicorns? Alicorns? Pegasus? Please you can draw them blinded.

●But no matter what your explanation may be Miles just has a little suspicion that its not just cause your born to draw horses. He caught u doodling a purple oddly familiar alicorn.

"Hey what's that?" Miles pointed at your doodles as you closed your sketch book in emberassment. "nothing!"

●It was a normal day you and Miles on your dorm room studying suddenly beeing called by your roomates outside for some help. Miles was left in your dorm he was kicking his foot til he hit a box to hard making it fall down to reveal....

Ponies???

●You walked in to your dorm Miles brushing celestia's hair. You froze. Your soul leaving your body. Miles turned to you in a innocent smile.

"So you like my little pony? I still remember you drawing the purple one! What's her name? Sprakle Sprinkle?"

"IT'S TWILIGHT SPARKLE"

●It was funny when Miles deliberately or unintentionally mistakes the ponies name and you always corrected him. He once called chrysalis the alien pony. He called Cozy glow a crazy bitch when you forced him to watch all 9 seasons of the show including movies and mlpstopmotion videos.

●Loves the apple family and pinkie pie.

"I cant believe you watched this as a kid. I can understand how your so good at drawing horses now"

Gwen Stacy

●Gwen and you werent too close in the beginning .It was just you two were seatmates so she notice on your "subtle" referance to the show. Be it the elements of harmony colored gems sticker on your notebook. Your twilight sparkle cutiemark earings. Or just you doodling the treehouse of harmony.

"I like your earings"

"T-thank you"

●It was kind of normal of your friends picking or joking on your mlp obsession. It sometimes makes you left out since you couldnt for the life of God relate to alot of they're series of the month. It was hard for you to not cringe at Live action. You were used to animation. The live action just felt stiff compared to animation. Gwen never understood your friends she thought it was cool how you memorize ponies name cutie marks even backround ones.

●It was lunch time and Gwen went to her classroom early and theyre she saw you watching the wedding of shinning armor and cadence. Face full of food as you watch intently.

●Gwen smiled sitting next to you. "Mind if I sit next to you?" You jolted and fell of your chair luckily Gwen caught you. Eversince that day you watched mlp episodes with Gwen everylunch.

●She loved doing theories. Like why theyre never been a baby alicorn born till flurry heart. The connections of equestria magic and the human worls. Loves the idea of Discord beeing the last draconequus and finding solice in invading worlds to feel not alone.

●Loves the seaponies.

"God I love applejack love her honestyand loyalty to her family! And the cutie mark crusaders are adorable! Sweetie Pie is the cutest!"

Hobie Brown

●He didnt meet you as Hobie brown but as spider-punk. It was an accident when beating up some corrupt cops near by he saw you full pinkie pie cosplay. You wearing a pink wig with a blue , pink , and yellow cupcake dress. It caught him off guard of your ballon accecories. He got kicked in the face becuase he was distracted watching you.

●Eversince he saw you he tried seeing you again but god hates him. He couldnt find for the life of himself. He tried going to cons wandering around finding any familar cosplay. He called it a night at 3rd day going till.

"I am sorry-"

●It was you with the same pink wig , ballon clips , pink , blue and yellow cupcake dress.

"You look dench in that."

"Thank you! I worked really hard on the dress"

●Eversince that day Hobie offered to ask you about the cosplay finding out your suppose to cosplay pinkie pie from mlp. He was a little confuse at first but after watching 4 seasons he gets it. It took him a while to catch up but he thinks the show is enjoyable at the least.

●You convinced him to cosplay twilight as you cosplayed spike. Imagine him with purple glitter extensions , a pony ears and horn with wings. It was funny but he didnt mind. He was Qreally into you wearing loads of spikes on your outfit since you were cosplaying a dragon.

●When he showed up like that on a meeting with Miguel he didnt give a single crap only reapeting.

"I look awesome and you aint doing nothing about it"

●He loves discord and pinkie pie but has a soft spot for thorax.

"The changelings look cool before and after. You can't CHANGE my mind"

Pavtir Prabhakar

●200% already knew about the show. Was actually obsessed as a kid but nobody like to talk about it with him well except for you.

●You two rant about the better element and pony almost every week.

"RAINBOW DASH ISNT A SELF CENTERED FASHINISTA!"

"How dare you ..."

"I am sorry-"

"You say that to Rarity" *caressing Rarity plushie backpack*

●He honestly jsut took potery just to make mlp statues why? To flex on you thats why.

●Will and have bought every single main six plushies but you have the cards of the mainsix and princesses. Even his favourite. Big Mac. This man has begged and pleqded for that card but he held it ONCE.

●How can you hate him so much? It was all for the tease and who got the best merch.

●Loves loves spike and starlight.

"C'mon trade with meeeeee"

Miles G.

●You hid your mlp intrest from him to the point he never even visited your apartment. Not once.

"Hey can we hang out your place?"

"Sorry I have a rat infestation"

●He didnt push it any further and so everytime he asked theyre was a new excuse. The bathroom sink broke. My AC isnt working well. The place is a Mess. A fire recently happend. I almost got robbed so its unsafe. Excuses and Excuses.

●But this time you can't escape. It was you having you having a fever so he had to go your apartment. Nothing out of the ordinary it wasn't to big or to small but when he entered your room.

●Your bed was surrounded with mlp plushies from the main six , to the princesses , to the ponies of pony vill and more. Rapped in a twilight cutie mark pattern blabket sick out of your mind you stood up looking at Miles in you fluttershy pajamas.

"So this is why you dont want me to come here?"

"Ughhhh ... Shut up your lucky I am sick"

●Since you getting sick it became a habit of Miles just watching an Mlp episode or two to cool off. One time Uncle Aaron walked pass him watching the mlp movie and he was flabergasted to the brim.

"The hell are you watching?"

"Something good got a problem?"

●He likes to see your collection of mlp castles his favorite the crysatl empire the little flurry heart jusg warms his heart.

●He loves fluttershy but relates to applejack about family and uses Raindbow dashed motto.

"I GIVE AM 120% AWESOME STFU"

#mlp #miles 42 #miles 1610 #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #gwen stacy #gwen stacyx reader #pavitr prabhakar #atsv pavitr #astv gwen #pavitr x reader #hobie brown

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

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This has been haunting my head forever, but as we all know Robert Smith was the leading inspiration for Dream in the comics with more than a bit of Neil sprinkled in there (and a few other goth rock bands like Bauhaus' Peter Murphy) and I just can't get over the image of a goth rockstar Dream.

It's the late 70s, and our boy Dream is riding a creative high of LSD and pedal effects to the top of the pops. They're calling the band he fronts, name and members are up to you or whoever takes this idea on, Goth bc they're too dark for New Wave but are just upbeat enough to steer clear of Televison's particular brand of Post-Punk. It's a newer label but a fitting one considering how dour and moody the genre has gotten since Ian Curtis's death. One he despises as he claims he's very happy with his current success and how his life is going.

But he's not happy. He hates playing to the newly forming stereotype of his fans, but he isn't. Celebrity Marriages hardly ever last and his relationship with his novelist wife is crumbling around him. He loves his son but the touring schedule is killing all of his free time. He's also pretty deep into substance abuse but he wouldn't admit it to his big sister let alone the random journo who has a camera in his face while he's trying to catch a 5:30 am flight to start his newest tour. He's just burnt out and creatively stuck as the label tries to pigeonhole him into this new subgenre, which he doesn't want anymore. Life, his life, can't be doom and gloom forever even though that's where it looks like it's heading. Forever being hailed as the Nightmare King.

Meanwhile, three radio stations over, Hob Gadling is desperately trying to hang onto life. He's a bit older now than when he first broke out onto the music scene as a rambunctious coat rider of the Sex Pistols, but he's still going strong. Punk has always been his outlet. Life sucks and you keep on living despite it. It tried to kill him not long after he debuted with substance use, but he powered through it and got clean. His wife died in childbirth, but he stuck around to raise his son. He even took a three-year hiatus and completely missed how much the sound had changed from his younger years. Even as post-punk has risen in popularity and the friends he knew have either died or changed their sound completely, he won't give up hope! Punk's not dead and neither is he. No matter how long his hair gets or if he grows out of his leather jacket.

The two meet rather coincidentally. Hob just happens to be opening for Dream on the Europe leg of his tour. Unsurprisingly the tension around Dream's band has become a powder keg and when he finally snaps and fires his guitarist, his bassist also leaves. With half the band gone, Dream considers calling it quits right then and there. Fuck the new album, fuck the last fifteen or so dates. He wants to go home. But Hob sees how close they are to finishing the tour and puts his foot down. They will finish the tour! So he offers up his services to Dream. He's not bad with a guitar and if Dream can cover the bass, then he'll play all night if he has to. Because out there on stage? That's life and he wants to keep making people happy and give them something that might transcend time and space. To never die bc his name is there among the annuls of rock history.

And in time, Dream will come around to his new friend. He will learn to appreciate the zest for performing and living his new friend has. He will also think he has the greatest body known to man and will forever laugh at the terribly done anarchy A Hob has tattooed on his ass, but that's neither for here or there. For now, Dream pulls himself together and gets his bass out from the dark pits of hell the roadies call gear storage. For the show must go on.

Oh god I want an entire novel length story around this. It’s fantastic! I have so many thoughts about these two!!

Hob is falling in love with all the new sounds that he’s hearing. He spent his time on his hiatus being a suburban dad, and now he’s back on the scene is just feels amazing. He can’t get enough of Roxy Music and David Bowie and Elvis Costello. And he’s determined to drag himself back up among those names! He’s got so many ideas of where punk can go! And he’s fascinated by Dream and his band. The lyrics are a little dark and wallowy, but Hob understands that actually people need to hear that. Life in the UK isn’t easy, particularly for young people. They need something loud and desperate and real. Little does he know, Dream feels like what he’s doing is so far away from being real. He feels likes such a fraud. He can’t get off the hamster wheel except by shooting up and passing out.

Hob recognises all of this in approximately 0.5 seconds after meeting Dream. It makes him pretty sad, but he’s determined that he’ll lift Dream out of his funk. If nothing else, he’ll make him love music again.

So when Hob said he was OK with a guitar, he was lying - he's actually a bit of a genius, and it's fair to say that Dream falls a little bit in love with him about half way through the sound check. Instead of hiding in the dressing room and licking his wounds over the band breaking up, he actually watches as Hob opens for him. Hob is very classic punk, it's all very "fuck the government, fuck me up the arse" kind of stuff, but Dream doesn't get bored for a single second. Hob is just that entertaining, and his riffs are insane. Dream itches to write a song for him. And when Hob ends the set with a jokey little song that his five year old son allegedy wrote the lyrics for (lil Robyn is very punk, just like his daddy) Dream’s eyes actually get a bit misty. It's probably all the smoke.

And there's really no time to get emotional! Dream’s drummer, Constantine, thankfully didn't walk out with the rest of them. So somehow, with Hob’s virtuosic guitar skills and sheer determination, plus Dream’s refusal to fail yet again, they actually make a really decent show. Dream feels a tingle of the old spark that he used to get when he first started out - it probably has something to do with the way Hob upends a bottle of water all over his head half way through the show and grins like a maniac.

After the show they crash in a local hotel. Hob calls his kid from the payphone and Dream wishes that he had the courage to do the same. Instead he takes some pills so he doesn't have to feel the high from the show gradually wearing off into nothingness. He doesn't know why Hob comes and sits next to him in the dark, pressing against him from thigh to shoulder. He stays for the whole of Dream’s trip, in fact, humming something quiet and classic. Dream feels quite ashamed of himself, and for the first time he thinks that maybe he'd feel better without the drugs. Maybe.

As the tour gets off to a slow start, Dream starts to notice that Hob is having some kind of positive effect on him. Just little thing. They get breakfast together, so Dream actually eats something, which is unusual. Their little arguments don't get out of hand, because Hob never lets them escalate. When Dream is angry and spitting at the world, Hob is sure to point of something positive. Not that Hob doesn't get sad, too - he just deals with it differently. He goes for long walks, and turns off the news when it gets bad. He gets himself a snack when he's irritable, and laughs about it afterwards.

Dream writes him a near impossible guitar solo and it feels like a "thank you".

They have a sweet, unexpected first kiss. It's 2am and they're standing at the edge of the road, waiting for a mechanic to come out to their broken down tour bus. There's no one around to see, so Dream rests his head on Hob’s shoulder. He's sore, and weary. Hob turns his head slightly and tucks an arm around him, and it just happens. They kiss. It is, of course, the first of many.

And you can bet that Dream kisses that anarchy tattoo a million time, too.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw drugs #cw substance use

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