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fangirlmermaid · 3 months

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Please Princess

Summary: You were kidnapped by Kronos goons, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, a familiar face proved you wrong

Pairing: Luke Castellan x daughterofPoseidon!reader

warning: Angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also kind of long (Sorry)

(This scene was inspired by Euphoria)

You’ve lost count of how many days since you’ve been in this cell. You don’t remember how one of Kronos’s goons managed to sneak up on you, one minute you were walking to the Poseidon Cabin late at night and the next you were in this small ass cell that only had a crappy spring mattress.

You were expecting Kronos’s goons to rough you up, but they haven’t. They’ve only come in once a day to give you food and water which you end up throwing back in the goon's faces. They still never laid a finger on you, you were starting to believe that you were leverage for whatever the hell your brother Percy was doing.

The next day you just sit Chris cross applesauce on the ground and face the wall when you hear footsteps. “Heard you were being stubborn” A familiar voice announced, your eyes widened No not him Luke was the last person you wanted to see. You touched the scar that laid across your cheekbone, something you got from that night.

You went to find Luke and Percy because they were taking a while and you wanted to enjoy the fireworks with them. You find them pointing their swords at each other, Luke tried to explain how Percy lied about not being the lightning thief but of course, you didn’t believe him which led to you and Percy trying to take Luke down. Luke swung backbiter intending to strike at Percy but he dodged and ended up cutting you.

You were heartbroken, Luke was the love of your life! You didn’t care about glory or getting the god's attention, as long as Luke was with you. You believed Luke cared about you too, he was your biggest supporter! This made you wonder if he was only dating you so you would be more willing to join Kronos.

Luke placed the tray on the small meal table on the cell door, “Come on please eat something” Luke’s voice laced with concern. You tried to blink away the tears, gods he’s still acting like he cares about you. You still sat with your back facing the man you once loved, even if you knew what you wanted to say, your voice couldn’t be found.

“You need to eat…please princess” Luke begged, when he called you his old nickname for you the memories that you tried to shut out came rushing back, all the campfires, sneaking to the lake at night, movie night on your phone. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, “don’t call me that” your voice cracked, Luke was relieved to hear her voice oh how he missed it.

He wanted to hear your voice more “Princess please, you have to understand” Luke tried to explain, and for the first time you looked at him filled with rage “Understand?” you mumbled, and you stood up “Understand?!” you yelled storming towards the cell door, words couldn’t describe how enraged you were “you betrayed us!” you yelled shoving the food tray back at Luke. The traitor didn’t flinch, “Y/N” Luke’s voice was soft, it felt weird that he was saying your real name “The gods don’t care about us, they have ignored us for too long. We’re just pawns to their game” Luke explained his eyes that only known kindness now replaced with spite and hatred, you glared at the man you once loved “So that’s supposed to make it okay for you to try to kill my brother?! He’s a kid!” You yelled white-knuckling the cell bars “I’m sorry for that Y/N, I am, but I need to make sure Kronos will rise” Luke explained, you felt your heart ripping once again.

You took a few steps back and looked at this monster who looked like the man you used to love. Your eyes darkened, You never thought he would kill a kid “That dragon should’ve fucking killed you” your voice laced with venom, that was a punch in the gut for Luke “You don’t mean that” Luke whispered his eyes glossed, “I do mean it!” you muttered at Luke who remained silent “You fucking betrayed us, Luke! You betrayed Annabeth! You betrayed me! And it fucking hurts Luke!” You shouted tears running down your face. Luke mumbled “I love you” You couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to say that “No you don’t!” your voice cracked, Luke nodded his head “I love you” he mumbled once again, Gods will he stop saying that “No you don’t! Stop saying that! You don’t love me!” You shouted, clapping your hands with the last sentence.

Luke has never seen you this angry especially at him, you guys have arguments but they were never this bad. You leaned into the cell bars wanting to look Luke in the eyes “I have a lot of regrets in my life, but I have to say that meeting you has to be on the top of my fucking list” You explained in a malicious tone, Luke's eyebrows raised. A tear ran down Luke's cheek “You don’t mean that princess” Luke mumbled, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a little bit satisfied by making him cry “I.mean.every.fucking.word” you spat at him. Luke grabbed your hand before you could walk away to catch your breath “Stop” you mumbled trying to pull away but Luke tightened his grip, he turned your hand over, exposing your palm. You studied Luke who looked at you with love before giving your palm a soft kiss something he used to do all the time, your eyes glossed at the sight. Luke gave it a final kiss before letting go, you cradled it into your chest “Y/N, none of this was supposed to betray you. I love you, I’m doing this for us” Luke explained calmly, you looked at Luke with murderous eyes “We could’ve left, Luke. We could’ve lived in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, just like we used to talk about” You reminded in a low tone your throat was dry and sore from the screaming, Luke shook his head “You know it’s not that simple, not for us” Luke explained, you knew it was true there would be monsters knocking on your door every five minutes but you wouldn’t have cared. You started to laugh “You know you're no different than them” You stated looking up at your ceiling, Luke raised an eyebrow “The gods” you continued, you were walking side to side in your cell “That’s not true” Luke grumbled, you laughed one again “but you are. You’re no better than Zeus, you’re no better than Ares…you’re no better than your father” you muttered, you smiled in satisfaction when Luked at you with rage in his eyes “I am nothing like them,” Luke told his voice laced with venom, you nodded your head not believing him “you’re a fucking vampire. Just like them” you muttered, Luke stood there in disbelief “You just go around sucking the fucking spirit out of everyone!” You yelled pressing your face into the cell bars and looking him dead in the eyes, Luke shook his head “You know that’s not true” he reminded, your murderous eyes staring him down “It is fucking true!” you yelled before walking away from the bars.

Then Luke had the nerve to say the three words again “Y/N, please! I love you!” he shouted, you wished he would stop lying “No you love being loved! You love being needed and being awed at like your some whimsical fucking creature!” You yelled wishing the bars weren’t here so you could leave, Luke sighed before looking at you “I love you! What will it take for you to believe me?!” Luke shouted in frustration, you wiped away your old tears “If you want me to believe you then stay away from me” You muttered, Luke shook his head making you sigh in frustration “Then let Kronos’s goons kill me because looking at you makes me physically fucking ill!” you spat at him before walking into a corner with your back facing him, telling him that you are done talking to him.

You stood there until you heard the main door slammed, you turned around and he was gone. You felt like an idiot for dating him, you should’ve seen it coming. You should’ve killed him that night, he was no longer the man you loved. It’s all your fault, out of anyone in camp you should’ve been the one to know that he was up to something.

You slid down against the wall, you brought your knees into your chest, and you were hysterical crying into your knees. Even though with everything that is happening, deep down you still loved him and you wished you didn’t.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x reader

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choism · 8 months

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Jester's Game | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)

Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !

It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.

It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.

Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.

“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.

“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.

Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.

“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.

The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.

Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.

Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.

“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.

“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.

“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.

“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?

“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize.

This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something.

“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.

Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him.

***

The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,

“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”

You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,

“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”

You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.

“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.

“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.

“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.

You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.

“I– no, no I don’t…”

His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.

“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.

There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.

“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.

“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.

“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.

“Let me show you who you were to me.”

You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.

The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.

You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.

“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.

“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.

Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.

“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.

“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.

“Fuck! Why’d you–”

You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.

“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”

Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.

“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.

“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.

“Of course princess, later”

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown smut #buggy the clown x reader #opla smut #opla x reader #op smut #op x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy #buggy the clown

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whirlybirbs · 7 months

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please god give me "[ CLING ]: having finally been reunited, the sender pulls the receiver into a tight, overwhelmingly relieved embrace, clinging to them and burying their face in their shoulder" with astarion and gale.

┊ astarion ancunín + f!tav!reader┊ CLING

His voice is a near shriek — full of irritation.

"What is wrong with you, hm?!"

"Astarion, I am not in the mood—"

"Oh, well pardon me, my dear lady," comes the snarl of a snarked jest as he follows hot on your trail, "Had I known you weren't in the mood, I would simply have kept my mouth shut and let you die!"

"I had it handled!" you fire back, throwing your hands in the starry, night air and very much ignoring the inquisitive looks from the rest of camp. Astarion does not let up, in fact he jogs to follow more closely than before — right on your boot heels.

"He had a knife to your throat!"

"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened!"

"God, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met—"

You finally reach your tent and slam your pack down on your makeshift vanity. Inside, the stolen wares rattle amongst pinched gold and silver. A few scrolls, a few potions; enough to get you and your rag-tag team through the next few days on the road.

You'd embarked into the town at sundown, with Astarion by your side, to pull a few old tricks. You're not a stranger to the silver-tongued methods of a thief. A few plucked lute strings, a few batted eyes. Usually, it's quick work. But, tonight you'd met a bit of resistance behind the town's tavern.

At the edge of camp, it's darker. The moon is hung half-full in the sky, and you gather your matches lighter to ignite your trusty lamp. However, the moment you move to flick the ignition, there's a hand on yours.

"Will you listen to me?"

"I told you," you huff haughtily, "I'm not in the mood, Astarion—"

Suddenly, he slaps the pack of matches from your hands.

It hits the ground a few feet away.

You look up at him, brow wrinkled in shock and confusion.

"...Rude..."

His face is set in a firm frown. And then, suddenly, he's pulling you into an embrace that is as unpracticed as it is rough. Your arms are cramped to your sides as the vampire presses his face hard into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel him huff, and then soften slightly.

Your attitude melts away.

"Don't do that again," comes a quiet, desperate utterance. You swear it will cling to your throat forever more; the sound of his true intentions, "As much as I hate to admit it, you've grown on me."

Your eyes slip shut. "...I'm sorry."

He scoffs. His nose, cold and delicate, brushes the skin of your throat.

Astarion can feel the thrum of life beneath your skin there; a familiar feeling. His heart pangs in want. He knows your scent best — comforting. Home. Even if you aren't entirely aware of it.

...But, he'll keep that to himself for now.

And maybe forever.

┊ gale dekarios + tav!reader ┊ CLING

It's a long trek back to camp — and by morning, you've never been happier to smell the last embers of a fire that's burnt noon and night.

Morning rays, fresh from the dawn, spill over the horizon as you meander into the camp. There's dew on your boots and blood in your hair. The gash along your side has long since coagulated into a sticky, cold mess; your leathers are drenched in all sorts of gore. Not all your own. Most belonging to the three Gnolls who had attempted to take you along with your hunted prey for the camp's dinner.

You lost the boar, your favorite bow, and a good amount of pride in the scuffle.

The moment you cross the threshold of camp, you can taste the tang of magic in the air.

You know, immediately, that it's Gale.

Perhaps it's your own awareness of the Weave, or a particular tenderness for the Wizard himself, but you feel him before you see him.

And then, it's a crushing embrace.

His toiling is long forgotten the moment he lays eyes on you, in all your brutality, and he can't help but surge forward with enough momentum to nearly knock you both breathless.

"Where the hell have you been? Avernus?" he mutters, one hand moving to gently cradle the back of your head. His palm is warm, radiating already with a healing magic that alights the air with the smell of lavender.

"Met a bit of trouble fetching us dinner—"

"Karlach will have your head," Gale says, leaning back to eye you up and down as a warm sweep of light graces your edges. You feel it, like a touch white-hot against bare skin. Intimate. Caring. Different entirely from Shadowheart's healing entirely, "She has been out all night searching for you — Astarion, too."

"I'm fine," you mutter — pointedly keeping the fact you had been chased up a tree by the aforementioned Gnolls to yourself — hands falling to his waist, "And I'm ruining your robes."

"Hush."

The magic pulses hotly, and you slip your eyes shut at the intrusion. His sternness comes robed in warmth. A safe sort of thing.

Gale pulls away only long enough to plant a kiss on your brow.

AS ALWAYS: prompts are here, the ask box is here.

#astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion imagine #gales dekarios imagine #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #astarion x tav #uber rare birbs formatted post #like #a super shiny pokemon card #baldurs gate imagine

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thedramaticwriter1 · 2 months

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Stitch 'em up

(Dean x Reader)

Summary: An injured Dean comes back from a hunt.

Character count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Blood, a snarky, injured dean

A/N: Didn’t mean to take so long in between posts, sorry not sorry lol

—————————————————————————————————

You sit on the dinning room chair with a cold beer sat in front of you, bouncing your leg up and down. Dean had called about an hour ago to tell you that his hunt was finished and he would be on his way home. The tone in his voice was tight and it had caused your stomach to sour.

“How bad was it?” You had asked over the phone the second he was done talking.

“Piece of pie, sweetheart. As usual” He replied and you heard him grunt in pain as he attempted to lower himself into the front seat of the Impala.

“Piece of pie my ass, Dean. I can basically hear how hurt you are over the phone” you replied, your grip on your phone tightening as irritation and worry coursed through you. He had told you to take a break on this hunt and relax at home, he could handle it himself. As usual, he was wrong.

“Hmm a piece of pie and your ass? Count me in” his voice dropping an octave at the suggestion, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Not now Winchester. Just get home so I can deal with you” and with that you hung up the phone.

Another hour you had been waiting for him since that phone call, beer untouched in front of you, starring at the bunker door waiting for him to stride on in. It felt like every minute dragged into a small eternity, each one lasting longer than the one before it. Ages passed by before you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the opening and shutting of its door.

If you hadn’t known he was hurt before, you knew it now. It took him a solid 10 minutes to walk from the impala to the bunkers’ entrance, normally a journey that lasted a couple of seconds.

You watched as he slowly opened the door, hope in his features that maybe you had gone to bed already and he could get his ass chewed out tomorrow morning. Unfortunately for him, he’d get it right now.

His gaze searched the room until he spotted you sitting on the dinning room chair, his whole body slumping in defeat. Like a thief caught in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even look you in the eye, knowing exactly what he would see.

Worry. Frustration. Fear. Anger. All of which had an equal grip on your mind at the moment.

“What happened?” You asked, not moving from your spot on the chair and not sugar coating this conversation.

The instant he heard your tone he knew he was in big trouble, and what does someone in trouble do? They butter up.

“Sweetheart, have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?” He responded sweetly, attempting to bat his eye lashes at you while simultaneously trying to hide that he was holding one hand to his obviously injured left side.

“Dean…” you responded while slowly rising up from your chair. Your voice was low and lethal, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Seriously, baby. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet..” he says as he smiles at you while attempting to straighten his hunched form. Still he’s trying to cover up his injuries, even though they are plain as day to you.

“Winchester…” you fling the name at him, half way to him. Already you can see red seeping around where his hand is pressed to his side. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s still bleeding from an injury he received over two hours ago.

“Honestly Y/N, I’m the luckiest man al-“ is all he gets out as he attempts to take a step in the direction of the the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom in an attempt to escape your anger and doubles over as his legs give out from under him.

“Dean!” You yell as you rush towards him, close enough that you're able to catch him under his arms right before he hits the ground fully.

“Alive” he squeaks out pathetically while still trying to smile up at you. Knees on the ground and still trying to flirt his way his out of this.

Ridiculous. You bend down so you're able to reposition his arm to hang around your shoulders.

“Do you think you can walk towards the bathroom?” You question as you try to gauge how injured he really is.

“Let’s try the kitchen instead” he grunts out. This close to him, you’re able to see that he has no visible wounds on his face, but you wince when you notice his lips are a shade lighter than they normally are.

“Alright then, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…” you haul up as much of his weight as you can onto your own body and you both stand up straight. You stand there for a few seconds hoping he can get his bearings and won’t pass out on you. After you're confident he can make the small journey to the kitchen, you start walking. Slowly, step by step, you two head for the kitchen, you leading the way incase you need to catch him if his legs give out again.

“I’m guessing you're not gonna let this one slide, huh baby?” He says as you cross the threshold of the kitchen, almost to the table sitting in the middle of the room.

“Pfft, you’ll be luckily if I ever let you hunt again” you respond. Only half joking, but you’ll deal with that later. “I’m gonna sit you down on that chair okay?” You tell him as you near it.

“Sitting sounds good right now” he responds, wincing with each step you guys take. You finally reach the chair and you gently help him lower himself onto the seat. You move around slowly so that you're standing in front of him, still holding onto his shoulders to steady him. After some time, once you know he’s stable enough on his own, you turn towards the hallway and make a beeline to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. It became a habit of yours to always have it stocked with the essentials, even going as far as having Sam create a fake hospital personnel ID for you so you could make your way into the local hospital and steal some of the supplies, knowing you’d use them eventually.

Rummaging though the cabinets, you finally locate the kit and rush back to the kitchen. Turning the corner, you see Dean resting his head on the table, his hand still holding pressure on whatever wound he has on his left side.

You reach him and grab his shoulder. “Dean, wake up” you say as you shake him awake, your worry only growing as he takes awhile to wake up. His eyes open slowly at your voice: “I'm not sleeping sweetheart. Just resting my eyes for a little”. You know that's bullshit. Who knows how much blood he’s lost at this point.

“I need to see the wound, Dean” you say sternly, not trying to give way to your concern, knowing there is a job to be done here.

“It’s fine baby, I just need a bandaid that’s all” he says as his eyes close again, not even having the energy to look at you while he talks.

“De, I swear to God, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll let you bleed out on this table” you say, having enough of this shit. You’re tired of him downplaying how serious this was, especially because he needed help.

“No, you wouldn’t” he says, knowing that there was no way in hell that you would let that happen, but still. You needed to get your point across. He finally opens his eyes to look at you and must see how worried you are, cause his lips turn down into a small, sad smile before attempting to remove his hand from his side.

“Let me” you grab the scissors from the first aid kit and make quick work of his shirt, cutting down the side near his injury.

“Hey, that was my favorite…” he responds but all protests die when he sees the face you give him. The shirt is the least of your concern.

Slowly and carefully, trying not to aggravate the wound any further, you peel his shirt off of him and throw it to the ground. You’re finally able to get a full view of it and you're unable to silence the gasp that manages to escape your lips.

From the bottom of his waist stretching across his ribs and ending right under his arm pit are five deep gashes, each one worse than the last. Staring at his mangled skin, one monster comes to mind that could inflict this kind of damage.

“Damn it Dean, you didn’t tell me it was a werewolf case you were on” you scold him as you assess the wounds. You grab the gauze and hydrogen peroxide from the first aid and you get ready to begin to clean the gashes.

“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to wo— Son of a bitch!” He yells as you move the gauze you're holding to the first wound, attempting to scrub the dirty and dried blood off.

“Don’t move or it’s going to hurt even worse” you tell him and you try and hold him still enough with your other hand so you can keep working. Eventually you’ve managed to clean out the first gash and it’s already begun to leak out fresh blood from the irritation from the gauze. You know you need to work quickly, not knowing how much blood he’s already lost on the drive here.

One down. Four to go.

“You try not moving while someone burns your skin off” he retorts, complaining about the hydrogen peroxide your applying, trying your best to avoid infection. You don’t even want to begin to think of how dirty a werewolves claws are.

“It doesn’t even burn you big baby” you say as he flinches at you when you begin to clean the second cut.

“I’m not a big baby” he pouts, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what your hands are doing.

“Just save your strength and hush up” you tell him, knowing he needs to save all the energy he has left and not waste it on bantering with you. You continue working, washing the dirt and debris out of the second gash.

Two down. Three to go.

That becomes your mantra as your mind thinks of nothing else but cleaning these wounds.

Three down. Two to go.

You work in silence and Dean doesn’t try to talk again, the pain being too much for him right now. You also don’t attempt a conversation with him right now, knowing that the only words that would come out right now would be filled with anger and fear, and you don’t think you have the stomach for that right now.

Four down. One to go.

After an eternity, you are finally able to clean the last gash, now taking a look at the true wounds in their bloody glory. “You’ll definitely need stitches for these, De. They're too deep” you surmise. All he does is nod his head and you know that the pain is getting to him. “You want something for the pain?” You question, and move to the first aid kit when he nods his head. You pull out the painkillers and grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the table. “Both will help, trust me” you say and you hand him the pills and open the whiskey bottle for him.

He’s slow to move, not wanting to injure himself further. He gradually brings the pills to his lips, then the bottle, taking a few good gulps before handing it back to you.

“Do you want to wait till they kick in before I start stitching you up?” You ask him. He shakes his head slowly.

“Just get it over with” he responds, carefully laying his head back on the table.

And that’s what you do for the next hour. Stitch by stitch, you close the wounds that are scattered across his skin. He’s definitely going to have a few scars, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, and it’s not like scars have ever bothered him before. He even revels in them a little, physical proof of what he’s overcome. Half way through you can tell he’s still in pain, but you notice his breathing has gotten more even, his shoulders more relaxed, and you know the pain killers have started to kick in. You breathe a sigh of relief and keep working. Your mind goes blank as you focus solely on what’s in front of you.

Stitch, blood, stitch, some more blood, stitch, blood.

104 stitches and an empty whiskey bottle later, you finally finish. When he feels your hands lift from him, he stirs a little.

“You done?” He questions you. He slightly slurs his words as his eyes look up at you with his head still resting on the table, waiting for your response.

“Yeah I’m done” you respond as you finish dressing the wound. You finally stand up and look down at him. You're still upset at him for downplaying how injured he was, but seeing him now, some what whole and alive, you can’t help the knee wobbling relief that washes over you.

You reach your hand out and rub it through his hair, savoring the way it feels in your fingers. “I am so incredibly pissed off at you right now” you say weakly, but even as the words leave your lips, your eyes begin to water.

“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart” he responds, dragging his hand up to rest on your hip. “You can yell at me tomorrow, I promise” he says, squeezing lightly.

Your heart clenches at the gesture, and you smile through your tears. “Alright”, you respond as you wipe at your eyes. “Let’s get you to bed” you say as you move closer to him to help him stand up. You’re careful not to rub against his dressed wounds and grunt a little as you stand up with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. With small, slow steps both of you make it to your shared bedroom. You swing the door open with your foot and he turns on the light with his free hand. You make your way to the bed and gently lower him down.

“I’m gonna get you out of these” you tell him, nudging at his jeans, eyeing the blood and grime scattered on them, knowing he’ll be more comfortable if he changes.

“If you wanted me naked sweetheart, you could have just asked” he responds, looking up at you while attempting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’d like to see you try any kind of move right now” you say, turning and walking towards his dresser, searching for a clean pair of shorts to change him in to. While digging through his drawers he responds: “Oh I have plenty of moves”. You look over and chuckle at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move off the bed, let alone do anything else. You walk back to him and begin taking his jeans off. Slowly dragging them down his legs, you search for any other wounds, glad to not find any. Once he’s changed, you help him lay under the covers and get comfortable. He’s already asleep by the time you move to the adjacent bathroom to change yourself. Once finished, you lay down with him.

You can’t stop yourself from staring at him, memorizing the already known freckles on his face. You reach to stroke the stubble he’s neglected to shave on the hunt, the movement causing him to stir.

“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles, not completely awake.

“I know. I love you too” you respond, moving to kiss his cheek. “You’re definitely gonna hear about this in the morning” you add, knowing that an argument tonight wouldn’t benefit anyone. You also were too grateful he was still in one piece to be fully upset with him right now.

“That’s alright baby. Yell at me all you want. The sex after our arguments is always the best” he says, grinning with his eyes still closed.

You scoff. “You’re horrible” you say, smiling back at him, knowing he’s exactly right.

#supernatural edit #supernatural x reader #supernatural prompts #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #spn #dean x you #supernatural dean #angst #fluff #dean winchester x reader

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xan-izme · 4 months

Text

Double Life 7 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: An unwilling partnership is formed between reader and Redhood. Damian wants to know more about his half-sister. And visits New York to seek answers there is only one problem, his father decides to come along.

You're in deep shit now. The whole time Jason was at the mansion, he had been eyeing you and giving you dirty looks every moment you spoke. You would glare back.

it was clear to others that you and Jason, were not fond of each other. But no one spoke up about it. Bruce would give Jason a stern look to stop and give you a gentle pat on the back.

And what's worse, Jason brought it onto himself to stay at the mansion to get to know the new member of the family a little better.

You were in your room. Thinking on this whole day and how everything just had to go downhill the moment you got back into action.

You were currently staring at the silver case you got earlier that was on your desk.

Alchemax . . .

You let out a deep sigh and sat on your bed. You felt a small headache come in as you thought about how you were going to get through this. You had to talk to Jason. And get things settled. Make a deal or something.

Suddenly you hear a knock at your door. You quickly hide the case. "Who is it?"

"It's me, you little thief." The voice on the other side of the door was clearly Jason. You frown and march over to the door and opened it. "Jason. . ."

Jason had a smug smirk on his face as you pushed through you to enter your room. "Where's the case." Jason stood by your bed and scanned your room. Taking in the art and pictures. The boombox and vinyl was pretty odd to see.

"Don't know what you're talking about." You let out a small sigh as you crossed your arms and leaned against your door frame. Jason glares at you and went over to your door and closed it shut.

"You know damn well what I mean." He got all up in your face as he had his finger pointed at your chest.

Your frown deepened as you glared back, glancing to his finger and back up to him. Making it clear, you don't like how close he is.

Jason calmed down a little and put distance between you two. "Look, we got off the wrong foot. . . I know your true identity, and you know mine." Jason spoke slowly, making hand movements and keeping eye contact. As if he was speaking to a toddler.

"Let's talk."

You were actually satisfied with this. But you have a feeling you should still be cautious with this one.

"Talk about what?" You leaned off the wall, still keeping your eyes on him.

Jason stayed silent and crossed his own arms. "A deal. You have something I want, I have something you want."

Your eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you have, I would want?"

Jason smirked "Your identity. You know, you're in a different city now, Spider-woman. There's a bigger vigilante out there, that would either put you down, or force you to join him. I have a feeling you don't want both."

You had to process for a second to understand who Jason was talking about, then you realized it. "Batman." You had completely forgotten about the famous batman. So focused on your own personal life. You had taken a risk to go out without thinking you'd run into Batman who has been in the game for years.

"Yup, so. How about we work together for now. Whatever is in the case, seems important. I don't want the old bats to find out about this either, so let's just play nice together and get this over with. I'll keep my mouth shut if you do the same, deal?" Jason extended his hand for a handshake.

You took a moment to think. And after what Jason had said, you realized, you possible have more to lose. You needed this deal more than him.

"Deal." You shook his hand to seal it all.

You let out a small yawn as you exit your room. About to leave for school. Your met with Damian waiting outside of your room, as usual. "Morning, cupcake." You spoke in a joking way. Damian frowns "Don't call me that- your shoes untied." He seemed bothered by your untied shoe.

"I know. It's a choice." You say with a shrug as he followed you down the stairs. Once you and Damian are downstairs, Alfred has already prepared breakfast.

"Morning Alfred smells and looks amazing, per usual." You had a nice smile on for the butler. You truly are grateful for Alfred. He just feels like a person you should respect. He does so much in this big mansion.

"Lady Y/n. Your usual f/f and Coffee-" Alfred paused as he noticed your coffee, he set down was no longer there. "Odd, your coffee." He mumbled a little confused.

Before you could say it was okay for now, Jason came out of nowhere.

"Oh, sorry was the coffee yours?"

Everyone looks over to see Jason, with your coffee mug.

Damian was quick to scold the older about taking your cup of coffee. You deadpan at the whole situation. Jason just smiled and gave you a half ass apology.

"Oops, my bad kiddo.'' Jason ruffled your head and set your empty mug in front of you.

"I'll make you another cup-" Before Alfred could even attempt to take the mug. You shook your head. "It's aight." You just ate your food and dragged Damian to the limo with you. Of course, you didn't leave without catching Jason giving you a mocking smirk.

You and Jason might be teamed up for the moment, but it doesn't mean you two are going to be the best of friends.

Damian has been doing more deep searching on you for a few days now. Trying to take everything in and find out what you're hiding. He hasn't found anything about this Miguel. In fact, no one in your life that he had searched on the Inernet mentions any Miguel.

What's gotten Damian a little more interested, and suspicious is your school records. Before your mother's death, you seemed to have been determined to go into a privet school in Brooklyn. Both you and your cousin seemed to be determined to enroll in the same privet school.

But why this specific school? there were other privet schools more fit for you and your cousin. Closer to New York. So why did you and your cousin pick Alchemax Academy?

"Y/n?" Damian spoke as he stared up at you, you and he were just sitting the bleachers during lunch.

"Hm?" You were still focusing what you had on your laptop, probably one of your assignments.

"That party you're going to for your uncle's promotion, can I come with you?"

You paused and looked over to Damian. Your surprised from this request, but you smiled down at him softly. "Of course, sweets." You pat his head and go back to working on your laptop.

He knows you won't tell him much, and you're not exactly an open book, nor are you easy to read. So, he should get some more info on you a little more on the deeper level if he visits your family.

You were excited to be back in New York again. And see Uncle Jeff and Miles. You missed them so much.

"Okay, let me go over the rules." You were about to explain the rules with Damian. So he makes a good impression on your uncle and aunt. Well, mainly Tia Rio. He's your half brother, and you want to make sure he won't fully mess up.

"Never call the adult by their first names, unless they insist. No talk back, like you usually do. If they offer you more food even when your full, don't refuse, you have no choice in the mater. And please, please don't go into the house with your shoes on. Okay?" You gave Damian a small smile of the basic rules.

"I see. . . may I ask who will be at this party?" He wants to know who his first target should be for conversation. Who he could pull more information from.

"Well, my cousin, aunts and uncles. A few family friends. Nothing too big." You had your back faced to Damian as you were fishing out some clothes that were nice and casual but still nice for the event.

Suddenly, a knock is heard at the door. "Can you get that for me Cupcake?"

Damian frowns as he gave you a glare, you were unbothered by it of course. "I told you to stop calling me that." He crossed his arms a he got off your bed and approached the door to open it up. He's met with the sight of Alfred and Bruce.

"Father." Damian raised a brow, showing his confusion as to why he was at your door. Bruce gave him the same look, wondering why he was even in your room.

"Damian, is Y/n here? What are you doing in her room?" Bruce asked as he attempted to peek into the room. But you heard his voice, and you walked up behind Damian with a greeting smile.

"He's getting ready with me. I'm bringing him along today."

"Oh?" Bruce was shocked to hear this, knowing Damian isn't the type to go to these kinds of things.

"Yup!" You ruffled Damian's hair. Bruce and Alfred couldn't help but soften at how the two of you have gotten along so well.

"Y/n, I was planning on coming along with you. If you don't mind."

You smiled at Bruces offer. "Of course, the more the merrier. Right Cupcake?" You smiled down at Damian, who did not like this idea at all.

#atsv x reader #miles morales #miguel o'hara #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne #x daughter!reader #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batfam x batsis #batman #batfam #jason todd #red hood #jeff morales #rio morales

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inoreuct · 6 months

Note

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

#er. this dragged me down the hill and i let it #this got so off-topic anon i apologise #but to be fair even after they start dating sanij gets absolutely HORRIFIC nosebleeds #like hello?? that man is hot as hell?? and he's MY man??? good lordy #cue him leaning against the wall in a dramatic swoon and yelling for zoro to catch him #(zoro does not catch him. sanji falls on his ass.)#(he does get a forehead kiss before zoro walks away cackling though so. a win is a win!)#black leg sanji #zosan #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #one piece #ino writes #ino's ask box #sanji's issues deserve a tag of their own #my habit of segueing from chill fun rambling to emotionally damaging content should be studied. jesus christ.

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blog-name-idk · 1 year

Text

The Package Thief (KNJ)

Beautiful banner by @btsstan12

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Summary: You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he's hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Word Count: 3,473

Warnings: Language, dimples, Namtiddies

~~~~~

The first time you saw your tall, handsome, dimple-cheeked neighbor, you were thrilled to have some eye candy in your apartment building. You had just moved in, and when he smiled at you in the lobby, you could have sworn you heard birds chirp and angels sing.

When you spotted him again while gathering up the packages for your floor, you perked up, hoping it would be your chance to get his name.

"Oh hey! Could you hold that for me?" you called as he stepped past the sliding doors. You juggled the boxes awkwardly in your hand as you hurried forward with a smile, only for the handsome stranger to glare at you as if you were doing something wrong. He then pressed a button that was clearly not to keep the door open, because it slid shut in your face.

"What the fuck?" you asked the air, staring at the metal frame incredulously. Who the hell did something like that? Did this asshole think he was too good to share the elevator with you?

Ugh, it figured. Of course someone that hot would never have learned to be a good person.

With a sigh, you jammed the "up" button with your elbow to wait for the next one. Your ire cooled as you waited, and you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just had to take a shit really badly or something, and what you thought was a glare was actually his constipated face. He would probably apologize the next time you ran into each other.

~~~~~

Your neighbor did not apologize the next time you ran into each other.

If anything, he seemed to glare harder. And then the prick closed the door in your face, again. Unbelievable.

You weren't going to take this abuse laying down, so whenever you were in the position to do so, you returned the favor. It felt good to see the same irritation on his face each time the metal door slid shut, and you relished in your petty victories. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. Did he really think that just because he was hot, he could get away with being a dick?

On this particular day, you had worked late to clean up after a coworker's mistakes, and you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was take off your shoes and bra and listen to some music while you fought off the urge to angry cry.

Of course, because the universe hated you, you got to the lobby to see the smug, obnoxious smirk on your neighbor's face as he jammed the door close button. You clenched your teeth, feeling heat and frustration build behind your eyes, and gave him your most venomous glare as you flipped him off. You were not going to give this horrible piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

Once he was gone, you pressed the elevator button, only to notice the sign indicating the other was broken. So you had to wait for piece-of-shit to get to whatever the fuck floor he lived on before it came back. It was a small thing, but enough to break through the cracks of your composure, and you felt hot tears begin to leak down your face.

You wiped your eyes angrily and took several deep breaths while you pulled yourself back together. Well, if you were going to have to wait, you might as well bring the packages up to your floor again. No point in leaving them down here for anyone to take.

As you waited for the elevator, you wondered how in the world anyone could be such a raging asshole.

~~~~~

"God, someone stole a package again yesterday," groaned Namjoon over a glass of scotch. It was Friday, the first night he had free in weeks, and it felt good to unwind after being frustrated by his bitchy neighbor for so long. Seriously, what was up with her? Did she think that just because she was hot she could get away with stealing peoples' mail?

"Again?" Jimin said in surprise, taking a sip of his own drink. "What about building management?"

"What do you mean?" Namjoon asked with a baffled furrow of his brow. Jimin lived in the same building, but on a different floor. Now that Namjoon thought about it, he'd also never heard his friend complain about a single package stolen.

"Do they just not bring up your stuff soon enough?" Jimin questioned, cocking his head. "The girl who brings the packages for my floor even organizes them by unit order."

What the hell was Jimin on about? That wasn't a thing. Oblivious to his friend's confusion, Jimin rambled on, and Namjoon pondered on this new mystery. The only person he'd ever seen picking up several packages was –

"She's really cute too, and she's always smiling."

Okay nevermind, it wasn't her. He doubted he'd seen an expression on her face other than irritation and spite. She was definitely attractive, but hot bitch wasn't really the type that turned him on.

"Oh, there she is, actually!" Jimin chirped in excitement, eyes sparkling as he waved at someone over Namjoon's shoulder. "Hey, [y/n]!"

The mystery girl in question greeted his friend with a vaguely familiar voice, and when Namjoon turned to see who it was, he felt his stomach drop.

You stared back, clearly just as shocked, and Namjoon did his best not to ogle. You weren't wearing anything outrageous, just tight-fitting jeans, a slinky top that hugged your curves, and heels that highlighted how your ass filled out said tight-fitting jeans. Even without the clothes, the smile on your face was enough to make his stomach do something funny, though it quickly faded when you recognized him.

"This is my friend Namjoon!" Jimin continued cheerfully, oblivious to the tense atmosphere suddenly hanging over the table. "He lives in our building! Namjoon, this is [y/n], she's the building person that brings up our packages."

You gave a forced smile, and Namjoon felt the beginning prickles of nausea and anxiety as he realized he might have made a tiny misjudgment.

"I just do it for our floor because it's on the way," you explained quietly, avoiding his gaze. The edges of your smile grew warmer when you looked at Jimin, transforming your face from glacial beauty to soft sincerity.

"Then I definitely owe you a drink," Jimin responded with a laugh, motioning for Namjoon to scoot over to give you room to sit. He obeyed woodenly, mind racing as guilt weighed down his heart.

"Don't worry about it," you assured him with a chuckle that made something in Namjoon's chest ache. "I'm about to walk home, anyway."

"Alone?"

You looked at Namjoon in surprise, and he realized he spoke aloud. He cleared his throat, feeling like a stupid lump as he looked down at his drink with warm cheeks. Despite the relative proximity of the apartment, he didn't like the idea of you alone this late at night.

"Yeah? It's not that far," you said suspiciously, as if waiting for a snide comment. It made his chest sink, though it wasn't as if you didn't have a good reason for your misgivings. He spoke up again, hoping maybe he could talk to you and have the chance to explain his earlier behavior.

"Why don't you have a drink with us, and we can all walk back together?"

To his surprise, you stiffened and the corners of your mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Why? So you can make me take another elevator?" you asked angrily, making Namjoon flush and Jimin look between the two of you in confusion. "No thanks, my week has been exhausting enough already. I'll see you around, Jimin."

With that, you stomped away in unfortunately righteous indignation, and Namjoon barely had time to admire the sway of your hips before Jimin piped up.

"What was that all about?" his friend asked with a frown, his usually twinkling eyes now boring into Namjoon's. He felt heat creep up his face as he sighed and began to tell Jimin the entire saga, from how he had assumed you were stealing packages and proceeded to close the elevator door in your face, to the current state of antagonism. By the time he was finished, his friend's mouth was hanging open, and he felt more embarrassment at just how childishly he had acted.

"Joonie, I'm just really surprised," said Jimin wonderingly as he rubbed his forehead. "It's not like you to be like that."

Namjoon winced, knowing he was right. He liked to think that he was the more mature, level-headed one of their friend group, above silly squabbles and petty revenge. Obviously he had overestimated himself.

"I hope you haven't done anything recently, I think she's been having a hard time at work," Jimin mused, and Namjoon felt the lead weight of guilt in his stomach grow heavier. At this rate it was going to fall out of his butt. "She was crying in the lobby yesterday."

Well fuck. He really was an asshole.

~~~~~

You had just arrived home and flopped facedown on your couch when your recharging was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. With a groan, you forced yourself up and peered through your peephole. What the fuck?

You made sure your chain lock was fastened before you unlocked the latch and cracked the door open, peering at your visitor dubiously.

"What do you want?" you asked, eyeing a beaming Namjoon in suspicion. You had never seen him look so cheerful, and you had to remind yourself he was not a golden retriever, no matter how cute he looked with flour dusting his nose or how deep his dimples were.

"I made cookies," he said happily, and you realized he was holding a paper plate covered in crumpled tin foil. "To apologize for the way I've been acting towards you."

You felt your brows raise at his statement, and you cast your eyes behind him in mistrust. Where had this one-eighty come from? Was it just because his friend lived on your floor?

Namjoon's shoulders drooped slightly at your lack of response, and he began to shift in place awkwardly.

"Um, I just – so I know I've been a dick to you," he began, chewing his lip and looking adorably embarrassed. "This is gonna sound stupid but I thought you were stealing packages when I saw you holding all of them."

For a moment, all you could do was stare.

"You thought that I would steal a bunch of packages, in the building I live in, while other residents were around?" you asked incredulously, making Namjoon turn bright red and clear his throat.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he mumbled awkwardly. "I just… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope we can start over."

He peered at you with such hopeful eyes that you felt your resolve crumble, and when you unhooked the chain from your door you could have sworn you saw a tail wagging.

"Okay," you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at the way he had perked up. Those dimples were serious weapons against your ability to hold a grudge. You held out your hand. "I'm [y/n], and I do not steal packages."

Namjoon laughed, a low, rich sound that you felt vibrate in your stomach, and took your hand in a firm, warm grip.

"I'm Namjoon, and I'm an idiot who jumps to crazy conclusions," he said with a grin that deepened the stupidly cute divots in his cheeks. Then he had to let go to save the wobbling plate of cookies from an untimely demise before holding it toward you with a look of chagrin.

You accepted his offering with a laugh, feeling like a warm bubble was floating in your chest. Then you bade your hot, not-asshole neighbor goodbye and set the plate on your kitchen table. You peeked under the foil, and decided maybe one cookie before dinner was acceptable. Or maybe two, if –

You took a bite of the soft, delicious looking pastry and immediately spat it out in disgust. What the fuck.

~~~~~

Namjoon Hyung! It worked!

Jin Wait, you actually made the cookies?

Namjoon Yes! They came out perfectly No fires and only a few cracked eggs on my floor!

Jin I'm impressed How'd they taste?

Namjoon Oh fuck

~~~~~

For the second time tonight, your evening was interrupted by unwelcome pounding at your door. You didn't even bother to check who it was this time.

"What do you have this time?" you snarled through the door, wondering if it was worth it to open it so you could strangle Namjoon's handsome neck. "Oreos with toothpaste filling?"

The knocking ceased, and a small, timid voice spoke up on the other side of the wood.

"Oh… you had one…"

"Unfortunately," you said shortly, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep his woebegone tone from softening your ire.

"I was hoping you hadn't yet," he wheezed through the door. "I forgot to taste them before I gave them to you."

He sounded sincere, and suddenly you realized he was speaking through pants, as if he was out of breath.

"Did you run all the way up here to warn me?" you asked in surprise, mollified enough to unlock your door and open it to reveal a rumpled looking Namjoon, bent over with his hands on his knees.

"Yeah – I didn't want to wait for the elevator," he replied, red-cheeked from exertion. "I'm sorry, I'm actually a disaster cook but I really thought I did a good job this time."

You felt your lips twitch into a smile at the imagine of tall, handsome Namjoon tasting a cookie and then immediately bolting up however many flights of stairs to stop you from eating them. What a clumsy idiot. A clumsy, adorable idiot.

"Do you want some water?" you asked, stepping aside to invite him in.

"That would be amazing," he gasped, giving you a grateful look as he walked inside. As he passed you, you noticed a few beads of sweat rolling down his temple. He really was even more attractive up close.

You directed him to sit on your couch as you grabbed a glass of water, and he picked up the book you had left on your coffee table.

"Oh, you read Murakami?" he asked as he looked at the cover. "I haven't read this one yet, is it any good?"

"It's my first, actually," you replied as you set the glass in front of him, sitting on the couch a respectable distance away. "I think he presents ideas of loneliness and intimacy in interesting ways. Does he always write the women as accessories to the male protagonists, though?"

"Haha… unfortunately, yes," Namjoon agreed, his dangerous dimples making another appearance as he smiled apologetically at you. "Do you read a lot?"

"I try, but not as much as I used to," you said with a sigh, letting your head fall back to rest on the back of your couch. "After work sometimes I'm too mentally exhausted to do anything but exist."

"But you still bring your floor's packages up?" Namjoon said in surprise, turning his wide chest towards you and giving you his full attention. You tried not to stare at the way his pecs strained against his plain white shirt, but between his body and his face there was nowhere safe for your gaze to land.

"It's not like it's that much extra effort," you said with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I when it's easy?"

"It wouldn't even cross most peoples' minds to do it," Namjoon replied, eyes locked on yours and making your cheeks feel warm. "You're a nice person, [y/n]."

"I-it's really not a big deal," you said feebly, your chest fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. You cast about your mind for a change in subject, because the way he was smiling at you was dangerous for your heart. "How did you fuck up those cookies so spectacularly, anyway?"

Your question worked to take that piercing gaze off of you, and Namjoon turned a pretty shade of pink as he looked down at his knees.

"I uh – I'm really not sure," he muttered in embarrassment, making you want to coo at how cute he was.

"Did you… follow a recipe?" you asked in consternation, watching his cheeks grow even redder.

"I… yeah, but…" he mumbled, eyes glancing around before settling on the glass of water. He grabbed it and took a large swig, and you did your best to ignore the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"But?" you urged, amusement lacing your voice as this once-asshole stammered and squirmed uncomfortably on your sofa.

"Why wouldn't more vanilla extract make it taste better?" Namjoon whined, making you put your hand over your mouth to hide a snort.

"Oh my god, you didn't," you giggled, his chagrined pout doing as much to endear him to you as the previous half our combined. "It also tasted like you switched salt for sugar."

"Dammit," he groaned, flopping backwards so he was oddly contorted on the couch, feet still on the ground but his hips twisted so his back was laying on your cushions. His knees knocked against yours and he shot back up with an apologetic look, but all you could do was laugh harder.

"My friend who gave me the recipe was just impressed I didn't burn anything down," he sighed, though he seemed relieved that you looked more amused than irritated.

"You… you really don't cook, do you?" you chortled, scooting a little closer so you could nudge his shoulder with yours.

"I'm your stereotypical bachelor," he replied with a sigh, draping an arm behind you, across the back of the couch. You felt your heart flutter again at the smooth combination of the physical action with the way he confirmed he was single.

"So no pretty ladies – or men – to teach you?" you teased, leaning further into his body. He met your eyes with his warm gaze, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Nope," he murmured, arm slipping off the sofa to rest lightly atop your shoulders, so precarious that it was clear he was half-expecting you to shrug him off.

"I guess that means I should invite you to stay for dinner," you said with a smile, enjoying the ego boost when his eyes brightened.

"No pretty men – or ladies – who would be upset by that?" he hedged, those dastardly dimples making their reappearance as he leaned closer, gaze flickering to your lips. His arm slipped lower to hug your waist, and you let him pull you closer.

"Only one who would be upset if you refused," you murmured with a smirk, tangling your fingers in his shirt as you tugged him toward you.

His lips were warm against yours, even softer than they looked, and you let out a pleased sigh as you melted into his firm chest. A low groan rumbled from his throat, sending warm tingles shooting from your chest through your limbs, and you sucked his plump lower lip between your teeth.

"I really just thought you were a hot asshole," you said with a laugh, pulling away despite the heat beginning to settle in your core.

"I mean, I was definitely an asshole," he mumbled, cheeks pink as his gaze stayed glued to your lips. Then his eyes widened. "Uh, h-hot?"

You snorted at his surprise, giving him a very obvious once over. Namjoon's face flamed even redder, which was absolutely adorable.

"Have you seen yourself?" you teased, letting your hands rest on his shoulders.

"Nah, too busy looking at you," he replied quietly, and it was your turn to be flustered. How had he turned the tables like that so quickly?

"Ha ha," you said awkwardly, cursing yourself for your inability to formulate a coherent response. He was supposed to be the idiot, not you. At your response, those dimples made their reappearance, and you stood up to prevent yourself from melting into a gooey puddle.

"Anyway, I'm gonna start dinner."

You said it in a rush, in the hopes that Namjoon didn't realize how giddy he was making you.

"Oh! Let me help!"

He began to get up from the couch, and you promptly shoved him back down.

"For the love of god, please don't," you teased with a laugh, pressing a kiss on his nose to ease the sting of your words. "Just sit there and look pretty. Moral support."

Namjoon smiled back at you, eyes warm and affectionate, and you wondered if you would even be able to focus properly while this mancake was lounging on your couch.

"As you wish."

~~~~~

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts xyou #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fluff #kim namjoon fluff

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veinsfullofstars · 22 days

Text

“Quit laughin’, ya bastard, I’m dyin’ over here! Get me some starsdamn milk, for cryin’ out loud!”

(ID: Kirby series fanart comic of Dark Meta Knight and Daroach, in which lunch is interrupted by a disagreement on spicy food and some improper use of the Sharing mechanic. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)

Based on a personal headcanon that DMK enjoys spicy food and Daroach vehemently does not.

UPDATE: I foRGOT HIS EYE SCAR?? HeLLO??? (fixed it now but starsdamn it this is why I shouldn't post stuff the second I finish heck dang it all veins get some sleep would you)

Started 04/06/24, finished 04/09/24.

---

Transcript:

Panel 1

*DMK and DR sitting side-by-side enjoying some lunch together - a sandwich for the thief, a plate of spicy curry for the knight. DMK (his mask pushed up to the side of his head, bits of curry stuck to his face) idly eats his meal with a fork as DR picks up and scrutinizes a small bottle of hot sauce the knight had set aside, a brow raised in disappointment.*

DR: “Ultra spicy,” huh? Blech. How can you stand this stuff, Dark? Like, can you even taste anythin’ anymore? (Besides pain?)

Panel 2

DMK: Aw, c’mon, it’s not that bad. Here, want a bite~?

*setting his fork upright in the curry, DMK pushes his plate aside and turns towards DR with the most mischievous expression, reaching up to grab the collar of his cape. DR turns his head sharply, dropping the bottle and the sandwich, as the knight starts tugging him towards him.*

DR: What’re you-? Hey! No! No! Don’t you friggin’ dare, Dark, I swear to Nova-

Panel 3

*DMK stands up and yanks DR down towards his face, a hand clasped on the back of the thief’s head to hold him there. DR flinches (VFX: two large exclamation points), knocked off his feet and holding his paws out in surprise. A wisp of steam rises from between them, curling into a little pink heart at the top. Text reading “*Face-to-Face SFX*” hovers behind DMK.*

Panel 4

*DR jerks away from DMK, red-faced and doubled over in pain, his eyes squeezed shut and his tongue hanging out with a fresh red burn on the end, steam emitting from his face in puffs. He frantically fans at his mouth with one paw while shoving DMK away with the other.*

DR: (breaking the dialogue bubble in places) AAGH!! Ow! Star-burnin’ son-of-the-void what is wrong with you piece a’- aaaughh dammit stars dammit ow ow ow ow!!

*DMK cackles, leaning away with one arm held up against the rat’s pushing paw, one eye shut and mouth stretched open in a wide smile, a single incisor prominent within and a touch of blush at the corner. Text reading “HA HA HA HA HA HA HA” hovers behind him surrounded by laugh lines.*

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argreion · 3 months

Text

Who knew your next-door neighbor was your panty thief?

Warnings: Panty sniffing, of course. Masturbation. Scent kink (?) Voyeurism from BOTH? Creepy Leon is kinda hehe, y'know? We love a little twisted fantasy.

We be burned at the stake for being horny. ✨ Stupid horny thoughts into one! Also kill me for the ending I had one in mind so... Erm... Shitty ending🤗(I forgot I lost motivation :'D)

Cough, cough, so, you decided to move into an apartment! Good for you! It's affordable, got a great view, and the landlord isn't an ass! Life feels good, but you know it's short-lived. Especially when you start noticing your panties being stolen constantly. Next day, appearing with crust, and the faint smell of cum? It sends shivers down your spine...

Having to rely on your older neighbor, Leon, to save the day. He's charming and strong, and he knows how to sneak around. (We don't talk about how he punched the vending machine to get you what you wanted.) Besides, he's got a super cool job! There's nothing wrong with him, totally! Unless...

Your hope to catch this panty thief crumbled, watching Leon stroke himself. You just got home, you were tired, stressed... Yet your favorite pair of panties in his hand, crusted and unwashed. Disgusting. Fuckin' vile old man he was. Couldn't help but watch as his hand moved up and down. The way he looked so pathetic honestly turned you on. You shouldn't even be looking, but you did.

Leon's hips bucked into his hand, soft shlicks coming from it. His eyes shut as he stroked himself off. Oblivious to the fact, that you were just watching. Heat creeping into your core as you watch the older male get off. Hearing his voice murmur sweet, perverted words,

“Smells so good... Must've been from yesterday.”

Why did he say yesterday? Only God above knows you did 'self-loving'. Did he use this opportunity to plant cameras? Wait, does that mean you should start looking around for them? Actually, would you be able to find them? The only thing you recall Leon saying about his job is that he does physical work for the government. Followed with a smile, and a charming wink. Making you not want to pry anymore, remembering the way you giggled at his mannerisms.

This mannerism, though? You can't even giggle. Watching a middle-aged pervert get off to you was... Still so disgusting, but you liked it? Liked the way he'd sniff your panties, the way his hips bucked as he took a quick whiff, and how'd he fall back onto your bed. Drawing you in closer, peeking through the door.

Now wrapping your panties around his cock, pre-cum staining the fabric. So, that's also what he does? That's why they got crusty... And also smelled a little weird at points. Was it bad to say you were getting aroused? Free little porn show to watch and with a hot neighbor? God damn, sign you up!

If Leon had to be honest, he's only keeping this act up because you were watching. Getting off on the fact you were watching him defile your underwear, not even trying to stop him. The thought that entered his head sent him over the edge.

Fucking himself into your cunt, watching as you sing praises and his name. Man didn't believe in God anymore but for a supposed angel like you? Maybe he'd change his faith, all just for you. The groan that came from his lips said it all.

Motherfucker was in too deep.

You jumped as his hips bucked up into the air, followed by a stream of cloudy release. Saturating the fabric with his 'love'. What'd he even love about you? The fact that you're innocent compared to him? Sure, he'd dream about the day he'd be able to ruin your life. Wrapping his hand around your throat and plow into you. Might even force you to stay with him. But for now, that could wait.

The post-nut clarity hit him, his eyes widening. Staring at your panties in his hand, now icky with globs of his cum. Ugh, why'd he do this? Having to awkwardly sit there, talking to the voice in his mind.

Did I really just jerk off with a girl's panties?

Even if he was mentally scolding himself, you weren't. Enjoying every second, the stroking, the release, and watching his thumb rub over the wet patch he created. Should've made Mr. Kennedy rub his thumb over your wet patch. Manicured fingers playing with your needy clit, flicking it. Riding his face, feeling the burn from his stubble.

Oh my God, shut up! You shouldn't be thinking this!

You were raised with morals (hopefully), and this isn't exactly a virtue you were raised with. You could hear your parents screaming at you in the back of your mind.

The adrenaline rushed through your body as he finally finished putting everything away. Forcing you to retreat back into another room, covering your mouth as you heard your bedroom door open. Followed by light footsteps trailing down the hallway. At least you didn't have to hold your breath as you heard the front door click shut.

Good, he's gone. Letting you slip back into your room, rummaging through your dresser. C'mon, you can find it, you have to wash it! It's disgusting, why the fuck would he throw your dirty underwear with clean underwear? Couldn't help but say you were peeved.

Though your friend down below would say otherwise. That flame inside of you started alight as you stared at the underwear. Letting yourself be dragged to your bed and fingers moving on their own. Laying back in those very sheets that pervert just masturbated on. Fingers already rubbing yourself off.

Those cameras he placed around also liked you rubbing yourself off. Already retreating back to his 'humble' abode, bare and full of whiskey bottles. Already watching the free show you oh so graciously brought him. His reward for keeping you 'safe'. Safe from this thief, the pervert, himself. Leaning back in that worn-down couch he needed to replace a year or two ago. Fishing himself out like he didn't just cum on his neighbor's panties. Eyes squinting down at his phone as he began to stroke himself again.

Play with yourself more, baby. He's gotta ruin that pair next, and then the cycle will start over and over again. Don't worry, he has all the time in the world to watch you...

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine

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princeoftheeternalbog · 5 months

Text

OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away :) PART TWO🤸 (here is part 1) established relationship ish.

Some lovely person requested Shanks, Benn, Doffy and Crocodile! I decided to include Shanks, Benn, Crocodile, Jinbei, Mihawk, Rayleigh and Buggy (the old man brigade tbh).

I did try to write for doflamingo but I hate him so much I just couldn't do it😭😭.

Might be suggestive so mdni!

Shanks

Tbh depends on what side you do it.

If it's his left side then he just notes it in his head so he can get pay back later. If its his right side you're done for.

Immediately snatches you as soon as you try to run away, "Oho what do we have here? a thief?", gets right in your face with this cocky ass smirk that kinda makes you want to slap him and also makeout. Also his grip is intense, you will not be able to wiggle out. After he lost his arm he had to be able to make up that strength so yk.

Benn

Side eye. He looks at you so disapprovingly that you just apologise immediately instead of trying to run away...however this was a trap and he uses the opportunity to SNATCH you off the ground and into his arms. Laughs if you scream tbh. He always has to have the last laugh and he plays dirty, and somehow you manage to fall for these tricks almost every time so he enjoys this immensely. He doesn't even care how "unfair" it is, afterall you're so easy to tease so why would he not indulge-

Buggy

Screams in outrage.

"HOW CAN YOU DO THAT AND JUST RUN AWAY" chases after you😞 really aggressively😞.

Tbh it's kinda cute like in hindsight because it makes him really flustered but like in the moment its like WHAT THE FUCK. yk yk. You better hope he doesn't catch you because he will not be merciful in his pay back, though he would never hurt you. Hes just not used to pda and he definitely has cuteness aggression so he just wants to bite you when you're so sweet to him.

Crocodile

You don't get away.

The second you lean in his arm is curling around your waist to hold you still while he puts all his focus into kissing you back, it's literally like one hand cradling your jaw while he licks into your mouth. He doesn't care if anybody else is there, in fact he enjoys it because he gets to show off that you are his partner. After that he'll keep you with him for as long as possible, doesn't care if you have stuff to do and he absolutely will manhandle you if you try to leave😭.

Mihawk

Lets you run away, like he'll follow you but he just walks and it's somehow way scarier than being caught straight away😟. The look he gives you as you start to step back just makes your stomach flip and your knees go weak. He turns it into some horrifying game which is basically just him stalking you like a predator (👁️👁️). Somehow manages to lead you into a dead end even though you're the one in front ???? "Oh dear, it seems you made a wrong turn hm?". Absolutely will stop if you start getting uncomfortable, he just enjoys teasing you.

Jinbei

Really playful and sweet :(. Laughs so loud because he's surprised and just watches you run off. He will absolutely do the same thing back and it's just so unexpected that it usually makes you forget about whatever you were supposed to be doing. Tries to catch you sometimes depending on his mood, like he'll straight up snatch you from the ground so he can hold you in his arms, HES SO CUTE :(. Also I think he blushes very easily even though he's quite cool-headed.

Rayleigh

Another playful one, tries to catch you in like a non scary way and is absolutely willing to make a fool of himself to make you laugh. Though if he thinks you're doing it in order to tease him then he will give the same energy back. Like he won't give you time to run away, he just steps into your little personal bubble and his hands settle on your waist like steel, "Leaving so soon honey?" RAHHH SHUT UP!!!! He's so fine and he knows it and it makes him despicable.

#one piece x reader #x reader #shanks x reader #benn beckman x reader #crocodile x reader #jinbei x reader #jimbei x reader #mihawk x reader #rayleigh x reader #buggy x reader #old man brigade #one piece fics #one piece x gn reader

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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year

Note

Damian x reader where she is having a bad day and he comforts her! A lot of kisses and cuddles and Damian being a low key flirt! Please and thank u!

Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader

"Y/N! you will never believe what Penguin tried today at the charity luncheon! Amid the chicken fingers too! It was quite a hilarious event and- oh. Oh shit. What's wrong?" the hero had easily flitted through your window like a leaf on the cold breeze- a chill which had been blowing into your room for almost two, frozen hours.

"Hey Dames. I'm fine, what happened with Penguin?" you muttered, pushing hair behind your ear to look up at the shocked man in front of you. You quickly wiped away at running mascara, frustrated you even let your emotions get the better of you tonight.

Damian didn't reply, instead he firmly shut your window behind him with one hand, his eyes not leaving your curled figure buried in a corner of your bed. Next he backed up to your closet, continuing to analyze your every move while he changed out of his Batman suit, a new suit that was truly meant for him, into sweats you kept for him a one of your drawers.

You felt the bed dip and Damian was sat at the edge staring at you as if you were going to get up and run away.

You were still curled in a ball, knees to your chest and head resting on your arms as you grumbled, "I asked what happened with Penguin" and Damian gave you a slight frown, "what happened with you?"

"Rude"

"You've been crying"

"Have not"

"So pretty even when lying to me" he mumbled, sliding into place next to you, draping a long arm around you to pull you into his chest. You huffed in response, but it was more an excuse to inhale the smell of dry cedar, vanilla, and just a hint of sweat- overwhelmingly perfect (for my connoisseurs I'm talking ORMAIE Toï Toï Toï).

Giving into your silence he pulled out his phone, pulling up footage clearly from the day's events. You watched Penguin try to steal a highly expensive painting being auctioned, but before he could get away, Damian was bounding towards the thief, using Penguin's own henchmen's heads as stepping stones. They fell almost like bowling pins as your hero flipped and spun through the air, Penguin kept trying to shoot at the blur but Damian just had the villain spinning in circles until he too collapsed without Damian even having to lift a finger.

"Dick would be soooo proud" you giggled leaning your head up to look at Damian who was grinning proudly at the film himself.

"There's that smile. And yeah, I already sent it to him! He says he's gonna try the same move next week." Damian mused, tucking the phone back into his pocket, his arm still draped around you as he mindlessly tapped his fingers on your side.

You realized he wasn't going to drop it so you broke the silence, "I just had a bad day Dames, nothing to it, it happens."

"You know I would literally kill anyone who hurt yo-"

"I know Dames, I know. But this wasn't really anyones fault, I just get in my own head sometimes." you huffed, actually relaxing after getting the thoughts off your chest.

He tapped your skill with a frown, "well, then let the people in there know I'm coming for them next."

"You're coming for my thoughts?" you snorted.

"If that's what is takes to make you happy, I'll call Zatanna we can magic school bus this shit or something-" Damian was joking, but you appreciated the sentiment.

"Sometimes you've just gotta be a little sad D, I'll be okay,"

"Promise?"

"With you by my side? I could never be upset for long, I promise."

"That's what I like to hear!"

"I could totally use some pizza though, you know, to cure me"

"For you, Beloved, the world" your hero responded, pulling out his phone to order your favorites, clearly excited just to spend time with you. Seriously though, with him around it was impossible to be upset for long.

"You know I love you, Damian Wayne."

"I sure hope so, no other heroes better be coming through your window at night!" he teased back, pressing a kiss to your forehead while you shook your head with a laugh, feeling the pressure and weight get lifted off your shoulders already.

Short but sweet, ty for the request!! <3

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne fanfic #damian wayne #damian wayne cute #damian wayne is batman #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne fanfiction #batboys x reader #batboys x you #dc fluff #dc cute #batfam x reader #batfam x you

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lvrhughes · 8 months

Text

Snuck In | Quinn Hughes

pairing: Quinn Hughes x gn!reader?

word count: 0.6k

warnings: none? falling out a window?

summary: After a night out and sneaking back into his house, quinn realizes he is not in his house.

not my gif!

To wake up at 6am alone was cruel, the sun not even risen, yet you were. Sleep covered you as you trudged to the kitchen, reaching to turn on your coffee maker.

The sound of the window opening immediately caughting your attention, seeing Quinn Hughes sneaking out your window. His frame folded awkwardly, his face with a look of slight terror.

“Okay um.” He was the first to speak, his struggle paused. “Don’t freak out, I think I snuck into the wrong house last night.”

The minute the words were out his body fell from the window, landing with a thud on the grass below. Earning you to run to the window, seeing his laying form on the ground.

“Ouch.” It was hard to keep the laugh in, a weird muffled sound escaping instead, earning another groan from Quinn.

“Are you okay?” The fall wasn’t bad, from personal experience you could tell, only about three feet.

“Fine.” He coughed, slowly standing up, dusting his clothes off.

“How did you sneak into the wrong house? And why were you sneaking into your own house anyways?” The questions slipped out fast, quickly snapped your mouth shut after he shook his head.

“It was dark, I was drunk, I lost my keys and knew I left a window open but apparently you did too.”

You giggled at his explanation, shaking your head at his words. A small smile creeping onto his face at the sound, staring at you while you shook your head with a smile at him.

“I love that smile.” The words got your attention, the words causing a look of panic to cover Quinn’s face in an instant. Turning away quickly, about to walk to his window.

“Quinn, wait!” Reaching out for him was definitely not the best choice.

Reaching out for him, maybe a little too far as you lost your balance in the window, falling forwards. A mumble of curses slipping your lips as you fell, just before Quinn’s feet as he turned.

“Ouch.” You could see the shake of his body as he tried not to laugh, leaning down to pick you up.

“Are you okay?” his hands reaching down to brush grass off you, his touch lingering on your waist.

“‘M fine.” You mumbled, playing off the subtle ache by leaning against him. Your head against his chest. “You like my smile?”

You could feel his heart rate quicken, the sutter he gave before letting out a sigh. His arms tightening against your waist, keeping you tucked against him before he mumbled an answer.

“What’s that, Quinn?” You pressed, looking up to him, head still pressed to his chest.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He whispered, looking down at you.

You smiled at the words, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. One of his hands coming up to cup your jaw, tilting your head to press a chaste kiss to your lips, leaving you chasing for more.

Whining at the loss of contact, a soft chuckle coming from his lips, leaning down for one more kiss.

“You taste sweet.” You mumbled against his lips, feeling the smile rise on his lips.

“I might’ve stole a few of the candies in your kitchen before I realized where I was.” He admitted, a grin on his lips as you playfully smacked his chest.

“You thief!” You played, his hands quickly grabbing yours, holding them above your head.

“It’s candy! I’ll buy you more!” He laughed, kissing your hands as he lowered them again.

“But it was my candy, but,” You started, pausing for effect. “I’ll take kisses in return.”

He grinned at the words, leaning down to press another short kiss to your forehead before speaking.

“I think I can work with that.”

#mads writings!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #quinn hughes oneshot

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queenshelby · 10 months

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part Six)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

Words: 1,456

You heard a few more footsteps until the door was ripped wide open and you saw her. You looked her straight into the eyes which were filled with anger and you were barely quick enough to cover your naked body with the large white cotton that made up Tommy’s bed sheets.

“What is she doing here?” the brunette asked, causing Tommy to sit up and pull up his suit pants which, by this point, he had already gotten rid of simple for the sake of comfort.

“Lizzie, let’s talk downstairs, eh” he then said without bothering to put on any other clothing. He approached her as he spoke, but she pulled away from him and spat with anger.

“I cannot believe that you are fucking this whore” she cursed and Tommy immediately lifted his index finger, cautioning her.

“Lizzie, shut up and calm down” Tommy spat before pulling Lizzie into the hallway and shutting the door behind him.

“You don’t tell me to shut up Thomas! I am carrying your child and you need to show some fucking respect” Lizzie argued as, slowly, but surely, she followed him downstairs and into his office.

“I will show you some fucking respect when you learn how to respect my guests. Y/N is one of them and I expect you to behave accordingly, eh’ Tommy told her angrily while, on the way to his office, lightening himself a cigarette which he retrieved from the pocket in his pants.

“Now tell me Lizzie, what’s wrong? Why are you here?” he then asked as, finally, they both reached his office. He took a seat while Lizzie stood in front of him with her arms crossed in protest.

“This woman you brought into your bedroom is a thief. She stole from the safe at the gambling den last night” Lizzie said rather angrily, causing Tommy’s eyebrows to furrow.

“How much is missing?” he asked, although he did not really appear to be concerned.

“A lot. About 10,000 pounds. Linda did two counts and we are exactly 10,000 pounds short and I am telling you that it was her. It must have been her” Lizzie tried to allege but, of course, Tommy had your back and chuckled.

“It couldn’t have been her Lizzie. She was with the night before, at the library” Tommy explained with a sense of calm in his voice and this frustrated Lizzie even more.

“At the library? She can’t even fucking read Tommy” Lizzie spat and Tommy answered her calmly again.

“I am teaching her” he explained and this surprised Lizzie. He really seemed to be making an effort with you and she did not understand why.

“You disgust me” Lizzie said before asking him whether he was in love with you.

“Perhaps I am” Tommy told her calmly again and, when she queried what this meant for her and her baby, Tommy began to think about it. It was not really something he had put his mind to just yet but he knew that, sometime soon, he had to make a decision and Lizzie reminded him of exactly that.

“You are in the run to become a Labour MP and I am not going to keep quiet about the baby being yours. Just keep that in mind when you fuck her” Lizzie threatened him and, as if the threat didn’t mean anything to him, he changed the topic. He knew that, ideally, he should be marrying her. It would be the right thing to do and increase his chances during the election. But, even for Tommy, marriage was something reserved for people who were in love and he was certainly not in love with Lizzie. He was in love with you.

***

After twenty minutes of talking to Lizzie about you and the stolen money and a couple of phone calls to Michael and Arthur, Tommy returned to his bedroom and saw that you had gone.

“The lady has left sir. But she did leave a rather cryptic note” Frances said as she noticed from the hallway that Tommy was looking for you.

“A note?” Tommy asked surprised and, when Frances handed it to him, he smiled.

“Gone Home. See you. Love, Y/N” was all it said and, considering that, until most recently, you could not even write out your own name, he was rather impressed by your efforts.

At home, however, you were met by a surprise and when you noticed some light shining through your apartment’s window, you pulled out the gun from your handbag which Tommy had given last night simply as a precaution.

Of course, you lacked experience when it came to shooting a gun but carrying and pointing one was often intimidating enough for any intruder to disappear. Thus, you opened the door to your unit just like this, with the gun in your hand, pointing inwards and into the direction of your living room.

“Who is it and what are you doing in my apartment?” you called out and, when you heard a familiar voice greeting you, you quickly lowered your weapon.

“Mother? Jesus! What are you doing here?” you asked as you put your gun away but your mother was furious already.

“What are you doing with a gun?” she yelled at you and, when you explained to her that you were carrying it simply as a precaution, she began to lecture you until you finally interrupted her.

“Can you please tell me why you are here?” you asked her again and she sighed before sitting back down at the kitchen table to sip on her cup of tea.

“I am here to check on you because I received this from a local member of the police. His name is Constable Moss” she told you before handing you letter which informed her that her husband had been found dead. Since he had been missing for a while, his death alone did not really surprise her, but the fact that he was shot was something that came as concern for her.

“You did this, didn’t you?” she then immediately alleged, seeing that you were carrying a gun and when you did not answer her right away, she began to yell again. “Answer me!” she demanded, which is when you smiled and shook your head.

“I didn’t do jack shit mother” you then said but she didn’t believe you.

“You killed him” she thus alleged again and, again, you shook your head.

“No, I didn’t. But I am glad that he is dead now. He deserved it and I am thankful to whomever was kind enough to pull the trigger” you then said and, for some reason, she was even more concerned about him having been shot now than before, when she assumed that it was you who had killed him.

“What is wrong with you child? Who did you get yourself involved with?” she asked, panicking, while roaming through the papers and letters scattered across your kitchen table/

“I got myself involved with people who can actually stand up for themselves” was all that you said until, suddenly, your mother picked up your latest pay cheque.

“Shelby Company Limited” she read out loud before giving you yet another lecture.

“I told you to stay away from the factories around here” she told you harshly but you did not want to hear it. You had enough of her trying to protect you after she failed to protect you from the monster who was your stepfather.

“I am not working at the factories, mother. I am working for Thomas Shelby. He has offices in town” you explained to her nonetheless in order to relief her from her concerns but, unbeknownst to you, telling her that you were working for this man himself made her worry even more.

“You must resign immediately” she told you and, when she spoke, it almost sounded like she was giving you an order.

“No” was your response. “I enjoy working for him and won’t be resigning” you explained.

“I beg you Y/N, just listen to me this one time. Resign and come back to Camden Town with me” she then begged you almost desperately but, again, you shook your head.

“No. I am done with this life. I like it here. Now please leave” you told her sternly, but she would not relent. This was too important to her and you did not quite know why.

“I am staying here for a few days Y/N. This is my apartment too. I will be departing Sunday afternoon” she then told you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Fine. You should have the bed then as I have things to do” you told her before grabbing hold of your bag again with the intention to leave.

“Where are you going?” she asked but you did not answer her.

“I won’t be gone for long” was all you said before closing the door behind you.

Tags: @fastfan@elenavampire21@dolllol2405@allie131313@cilliansangel@coldbastille@kpopgirlbtssvt@cdej6@kathrinemelissa@landlockedmermaid77@crazymar15@damedomino @lauren-raines-x@miss-bunny19@skinny-bitch-juice@odorinana@cloudofdisney@weepingstudentfishhorse@allexiiisss@geminiwolves@letsstarsfalling@ysmmsy@chlorrox@tommyshelbypb@chocolatehalo@music-lover911@desperate-and-broken@mysticaldeanvoidhorse@peaky-cillian@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz@december16-1991@captivatedbycillianmurphy@romanogersendgame@randomfangirl2718@missymurphy1985@peakyscillian@lilymurphy03@deefigs@theflamecrystal@livinginfantaxy@rosey1981@hanster1998@fairypitou@zozeebo@kasaikawa@littleweirdoalien@sad-huffle-nerd@theflamecrystal@0ghostwriter0@stylescanbeatmyback@1-800-peakyblinders@datewithgianni@momoneymolife@mcntsee@janelongxox@basiclassy@being-worthy@chaotic-bean-of-smolness@margoo0@vhscillian@crazymar15@im-constantly-fangirling@namelesslosers@littlewhiterose@ttzamara@cilleveryone@peaky-cillian@severewobblerlightdragon@dolllol2405@pkab@babaohhhriley@littleweirdoalien@alreadybroken-ts@masteroperator@stevie75@shabzy96@rainbow12346@obsessedwithfandomsx@geeksareunique@laysalespoir@paigem00@lkarls@vamp-army@luckystarme@myjumper@gxorg@eline-1806@goldenharrysworld@cristinagronk16@stylesofloki@faatxma@slut-for-matt-murdock@tpwkstiles@myjumper@cloudofdisney@look-at-the-soul@smellyzcat@kittycatcait219@theliterarybeldam@being-worthy@layazul@lyn07@kagilmore@50svibes@mainstreetlilly@ourthatgirlabby@bitchwhytho@takethee@registerednursejackie@sofi128@mrkdvidal1989@minxsblog@heidimoreton@laylasbunbunny@laylasbunbunny@queenshelby@camilleholland89@forgottenpeakywriter@vintagecherryt@indierockgirrl@mrkdvidal1989@bluesongbird@dudde-44@gasolinesavages@kissforvoid@bluebird592@1eugenia1isabella1@esposadomdp@lulunalua23@lovelace42@bookklover23@iwantmyredvelvetcupcake@moonmaiden1996@marlenamallowan@cyphah (cannot tag)@majesticcmey@cleverzonkwombatsludge@throughgoeshamilton@alessioayla@elenavampire21@justforfiction@cilliansangel@alannielaraye@satellitelh@pandoramyst@duckybird101@snixx2088@kylianswag@alessioayla@pono-pura-vida@iraisbored69@howling-wolf97@aesthetic0cherryblossom@weirdo-rules@lovemissyhoneybee@dazaiscum@esposadomd@etherealkistar@ur--mommy@throughgoeshamilton

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harusaki-hugo · 1 year

Text

Calling Them By Real/Full Name.[MONDSTADT VER]

Warning: Pure Crack, a bit angst[on jean], jealous reader [jean], fluff [jean], you can see the fav, some characters real name spoiler.

Headcanon:- Calling someone you close/love by their full/real name can sometimes strike fear inside them. But sometimes calling their full/real name affectionately can make them melt inside.

Characters:- Diluc , Kaeya and Jean

Diluc:-

Once again, Diluc forgot about you two dinner nights to chase after some Fatui guys. You sit there on the Tavern chair seething in anger while Kaeya tries to calm you down.

“i-I’m sure he just wants to get you some flowers?” Kaeya smile nervously flinching in fear when you glare at him, “One more word, Kaeya. You going to wear two eyepatches.” You manage to shut the male.

Diluc enters the Tavern with a tired sigh, his expression twisting in displeasure when he sees Kaeya but brightening when he sees you. He seems ignorant at how a dark aura seeps out of you and the warning look Kaeya gives him.

“My love.” You cut him off with a dark smile, “ Diluc Ragnvindr.” The way Diluc's face becomes more pale hinting that he realizes his mistake, you jump out of the chair summoning out your weapon, “You going to meet you father-” Kaeya quickly wraps his arms around your torso lifting you from the floor yelling, “Diluc, ruun!!”

The red hair male does not need to be told twice, kicking down the tavern door he frantically throws himself out of the door to avoid your wrath, and perhaps this time he should stay out of regions for another year until you calm down [again].

Kaeya:-

You feel your eyebrows twitching in anger as you wait inside your boyfriend's office room waiting for him to come back from his so said patrol. Standing beside you are Traveler and Paimon, eyes still red from the crying. Early today the two come to you crying, complaining that Kaeya lies to them about some treasure and force them to become bait for some treasure thief.

Having a soft spot for the honorary knight and their companion, you decide to scold the male for them only to find out that the male is currently at Tavern drinking in the middle of the day and annoying his brother.

Your eyes snap at the door when it clicks open revealing your boyfriend, he smiles widely when he sees you but confused at the sight of the traveler and Paimon.

“ Kaeya Alberich.” He went rigid at your tone, smiling nervously he take a step back only to let out a yelp when the door suddenly slam shut. You stand up from the chair summoning your weapon, “Say hi to crepus for me~”

Lisa and Jean look up from their work when they hear the familiar scream of Kaeya, “And here you thought he learn his lesson.” Jean sighed.

Jean:-

She didn’t come back home, again. You sit on the couch in your shared home living room glaring at the clock on the wall, it’s already morning and another new day, and your fiance still hasn’t come home. It’s been a week and you start to think that the headquarter is her home rather than here.

It’s her idea for you two to move in together and now, she is the one who rarely comes home. She always says she is busy, with too much paperwork to do, then why did she have time to spend a day with Lisa than her lover.

The front door creaks open making your eyes snap toward the door revealing a very tired-looking Jean, she looks in your direction and smiles softly at the sight of you but you just click your tongue and look away from her, puffing your cheeks.

She looks confused at first, entering the house, she takes a seat beside you calling your name softly, and asks what’s wrong, “...Go spend more time with Lisa...” You grumble, “This is not your actual home, right..” She looks shocked at your words, looking at her lap guiltily she leans forward until her forehead hit your shoulder, you flinch at first but let her stay there.

When she see you didn’t move away from her, she wrap her arms around you leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder before snuggling her face on the croak of your neck. “J- Jean Gunnhildr!” You try to say her name in a stern tone but she just sighs liking the way you say her name, “Yes? “ She says your name back but instead of your last name, she put her last name onto it. You finally give in shifting around wrapping your arms around her bringing her close to you, Jean beaming at you pushing you down on the couch cuddling you to her heart's content.

Goddamnit, you over-working woman, just come back home. I don’t want C2 Diluc, I just want jean.

#genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact #diluc ragnivindr x reader #kaeya x reader #jean gunhildr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #jean gunnhildr #Jeancomehomeplease #genshin impact x reader #x reader #genshin x reader

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livingfast04 · 1 year

Text

Monster Au? (kind of)

**spoilers for Frankenstein??? I guess??** Part Two --- They read Frankenstein in the 9th grade, Freshman English, with their teacher who had read the book far too many times. She’d waxed poetically about injustice, and how Victor was a Victim. She spoke every sentence as if each and everyone of them had never read a book in their life.

Steve read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein in 7th grade for a book report. His teacher had all but begged him to choose a different option- they read it Freshman year. See it with new eyes then Steve.

His mind was made up. Already 50 pages in.

There was no poor Victor. Steve hated him, hated the idea of his character, hated the very words spilled on the page. The creature did not ask to be created, it did not ask to live. Steve hated that he identified with the creature, someone seeking kindness in a world that hated the idea of him.

Devil, demon, fiend, monster.

Skin Eater, Skin Thief, Skin Stealer, Shapeless.

If Steve was capable of that kind of violence, he’d kill everything his parents loved too. If his parents were even capable of love.

So Steve sat bored out of his mind, and angry. In Freshman English, over a book he’d already read, over a woman, a human woman. Who spun sentences about the Human in the story, and cursed out the creature. As if the creature asked for anything.

Kick the dog, hurt the dog, starve the dog. The kind dog will bite.

Sink teeth into skin, tear flesh, feel the way their jaws lock around the white of bone.

He kept his mouth shut. In ways that the other monsters in the class didn’t, they huffed, and argued. The wolf at the front of the class snapped out about the logistics, the message Mary Shelley was trying to tell- how Victor Frankenstein was not the victim, but the Villain. It was about all the humans who had children with Supernatural, who abandoned them, who cast them aside, who turned the villages against them.

When the Witch at the back of the class snapped out about Shelley was a Witch herself.

Steve kept his mouth shut, when the Vampire boy from the front of the class shouted about how the creature just wished to be loved.

Not a single word for how much he hated Victor passed his lips. Because Steve was supposed to be just as human as the teacher, was supposed to agree with the teacher. A woman he couldn’t even be bothered to remember her name in the Spring Semester.

Steve was to keep his head down on all things monsters, keep his abnormalness to himself- and act like a human.

Freak, Freak, Freak

The Harrington’s were the only Shape-shifters in Hawkins, and that was a well kept secret. Only the Harrington’s were to know this fact. The world had come around to Supernatural in the late 1800s, just maybe.

Werewolves, Vampires, Witches, Gremlins, Fairies, Dragons, Ghosts, Animal Shifters, Sirens, Banshee, you know-

The human shaped kind.

They did not take kindly to Shapeshifters.

So they hid, they curbed their instincts and became human-like. Raised their young in private, they did not fight the oppression, they stayed quiet, and said little to how shape-shifters worked to themselves.

They don’t marry outside of the branch of Shifters, they don’t even think about it.

Steve’s parents married out of necessity. Keep the line of Harrington’s alive. They had Steve out of necessity too. They shouldn’t have, but it’s what it was. His father too scared to break the cycle made sure that Steve was aware he was an abomination.

A devil, demon, a creature.

Be human, don’t be anything else. Steve grew up knowing what his body should need, but never getting it. His “natural” body is already supposed to be thin, small, built for movement, and change.

Steve grew up, not really honestly. He tried to grow up. It took years of monsters, and years of exhaustion, and a skin that was wrong to even begin to grow up. There was no real transition, there was too human, and then too monster-ish.

Too much, too much-

And then there were real monsters. Not the human shaped kind.

Not the Humans. The regulars, the ones with the slurs, and shouting, the human shaped monsters who didn’t like wrong. The ones who were the same as him, who didn’t like themselves either-

Kick the dog, hurt the dog, starve the dog.

The dog bites. --- I, got the writing bug, for something other than my two WIP. So, weird way too much world building Monster Au that I had to get out of my head an on to paper before I lost it completely. Both my sanity, and the idea. (The Au is Steddie, there’s just a, well Lack of Steddie in this. For some reason- probably because I word vomited for 25 minutes- and this was all I could come up with, without writing 10k-) This was born because I’m reading Frankenstein praise be Mary Shelley. And I’ve got far too many thoughts to be allowed to consume media. So Stevie gets to suffer now- It’s okay tho, His Vampire Bf will make it better later down the line- :)

#steddie #steve x eddie #Liv is losing their mind #Stranger Things Au #steddie ficlet #stranger things #monster au???#steddie monster au?

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