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maltmealo · 3 days

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Chapter 19: Three-to-three ratio

"Ha... look at that, he's actually alive."

"Thats kinda the point of... all of this."

"Don't be rude, they're exhausted and probably in shock."

A laugh woke you up from your dreamless state. Children’s giggles bouncing around in your head and making it hard to fall back into the thick embrace of sleep. Blueberries and raspberries filled your mouth, the fruity taste coupled by a citrusy scent that was so similar to someone.

“Who are you?” The childish voice makes you snap awake, a dusty red and dark purple swirling together in your vision until the colors slowly morphed into child-like shapes standing above you. You slowly push yourself off the bed and the light children give you space, stepping away from your awakening form.

“(Y/N),” you respond, getting to your feet only to realize you were standing on a pile of blankets. you carefully step out of the blankets, stepping onto the hard metal floor below. The children again follow, giggling and muttering to each other. They were barely above your waist, almost looking like a toddler with the proportion of an adult.

“How’d ya get here?” the red one asks, stepping forward to face you, well, sort of face you, they had no face, only a blank red slate where their voice was coming from. “This place is fer us, not you.”

“Well… I apologize for invading your privacy,” you answer, glancing around the room lightly before finding that too invasive and instead looking down at the child again. “I don’t know how I got here, I was with my friend a little bit ago.”

“Friend, huh? Well I'm going to put my friend up your-” The angry red light-child is cut off by the purple one, they whisper something into the red one’s ear. The red one pauses, their shoulders dropping and visibly relaxing.

“Sorry ‘bout him, he’s just protective,” the purple one says, stepping forward and grabbing your wrist. The red one takes a place on the other side of you, taking your other wrist and tugging you out of the room.

“I’m Rumble and he’s Frenzy,” The purple one proclaims happily, jerking a thumb in the direction of the red one. They slow down once they pull you out of the room, weaving through countless bright white lights that wander around you.

“Don’t worry, we know who you're looking fer,” Frenzy laughs, pushing past one of the lights and it makes a noise similar to a low grumble, “Come on!”

Frenzy pushes open a door and a loud roaring slams into your ears as soon as he pulls you in, Rumble follows quickly, taking the lead and pulling you towards the railing. The bright light fills your vision, temporarily blinding you.

When your eyes adjusted, you could see what the cheering was for, an arena. A whole ass gladiator arena, with two people fighting in it. The seats were crowded with bright lights of all different colors, some mixing and some fading in and out. The cheering was boisterous and heavy, all but forcing your head down to watch the fight in the middle.

Before you could even squint to try and see who the two fighting were, Frenzy jumped onto the railing, almost hanging over the unsteady protective metal as he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“GET HIS AFT!” He screamed just as you grabbed his arm to prevent him from falling. He instead dragged you and Rumble closer, his shouting becoming incomprehensible shouting.

“There!” Rumble shouted as well, pointing to the fighter that had a purple haze around him.

You squint your eyes to see, and it was none other than Doctor Sowa, no longer in a lab coat but instead in black and purple clothes. He was fighting a dark cloud, tendrils of shadows whipping out from the cloud as it fought against your dear doctor.

You gasp as one of the cloud’s attacks landed, sending him flying back into the arena wall. You lean on the rails with Frenzy, now in worry for your friend's life.

“We need to stop this, he's going to die!” You shout, trying to pull away to find someone that could stop this death match but the two children stop you.

“No, no!” They say in unison, dragging you back to the railing and pointing down.

“Don’t you worry, he always wins, this piece of scrap is nuthing to him!” Rumble explains, eagerly watching as Doctor Sowa gets pinned down at the cloud.

You could only close your eyes and bite your tongue, expecting the worst to become of him. A loud ‘CHOOM’ echoes through as the arena is silenced, only a faint buzzing lingering in the air. You crack your eyes open, only to see the same blue fire only a few feet behind the fading black cloud.

Sowa was still standing, unphased by the impact he had taken. The crowd broke out in a cheer, the boo’s of whoever was around quickly being quieted by the unholy shriek of victory from Rumble. Suddenly you were being dragged away again, your heels scraping against the ground as the two light children all but carried you down a flight of stairs to the side.

“Where are we going?” You ask just as your feet finally get the message and start to move with the kids. They let your elbows go for just long enough that you weren't walking backwards before they grabbed your arm again and dragged.

“To see him,” Frenzy answered curtly, kicking open an old door with his foot and leaving a dark green light flashing and jumping back before it could hit him.

“Doctor Sowa?”

“Um… no,” Frenzy said, looking up at you. You could only assume he was confused but since he was faceless it could have been any range of emotion.

“He ain’t a doctor, he’s the best fighter ever!” Rumble chirped, stopping at a door before letting your elbow go. Frenzy followed suit, opening the door and walking in calmly.

Rumble pushed you in and the unbearable roar of the crowd was instantly muted, replaced with a soft humming of the man sitting in a chair.

“Sowa,” You say in relief, before you could even open your mouth again he gestured for you to sit. You did, taking place in an old metal chair that was rusted and slightly blue.

He nodded and took off the face mask, revealing scarred lips covered in blood and flickering purple lights. Rumble and Frenzy were now by Sowa’s side, gripping onto his pant legs and muttering amongst themselves again.

“Where are we?” You asked after a moment of enjoying the quiet, leaning back against the chair to look Sowa in the eyes.

“A memory,” His voice came out hoarsely, like a sound not spoken in eons, an echoing sound of an old pipe filled with holes. It was slightly monotone, yet you felt everything he felt. A deep calm washed over you as you spoke, “a good one.”

“You’re talking.”

“I am, this was a time before I took my vow of silence.”

“Are these your-”

“Children… yes, you seem to already be well acquainted,” he says in the same tone, watching the children as they run off to the corner and start tumbling around,

You watch them as well, unsure of where to go off of this before finally speaking up again, “I thought you said…”

“This is a memory, (Y/N), they have long since been… extinguished,” His voice gets solemn and Rumble tackles Frenzy into a pile of rubber scraps. They burst out into a fit of laughter as they grab handfuls of rubber and hurl it at one another. “They are the reason for my silence.”

One of the handfuls hits you square in the face, the black pieces falling into your lap. The children, blissfully aware of the faceful of old rubber you had just received, continued to play.

“Why am I here?” You ask, beginning to collect the pieces of rubber that had fallen into your lap. You place them in your palm one by one, the sides fitting together like a puzzle piece.

“You’re injured,” he states simply, standing up and plucking bits of it out of your hair.

“It’s rubber, not acid,” you chuckle, looking down at the deformed puzzle in your palm. It vaguely resembles a sharper version of the Autobots symbol.

“Your spark,” he reached out, pressing his palm flat against your chest. You could feel your heart beating through your body, a constant and rhythmic bump-bumping that almost made your head hurt, “You’re drained, you shouldn’t have gone with the Autobot.”

“Cliffjumper?” You ask, your head jerking up from your palm to look in the face, “is he okay? Did the others manage to find him?”

He stayed silent. With the other hand, he reached down and curled your palm up, the rubber symbol crumbling and falling to the floor. He took his hand away from your chest, pushing up and away from you as he went over to pull the two fighting children away from each other.

Before you could even speak to ask again, a cat jumped up on your lap. Well… it wasn’t really a cat, only a dark purple light in the shape of a cat, but it purred as it settled down onto your lap.

“That is Ravage,” he sits back down, both the children under each arm and dangling limply as they mutter angrily to one another.

You run your hand over the light, it didn't feel like fur instead like… scratchy carpet. You cringe, the sensation sending chills down your spine but the cat was purring even louder so you continued, “He’s cute.”

He nodded, switching the children to sit on his lap. He looked down at the two children, now happily leaning against their father and falling asleep, a day of screaming and dragging around a grown human would do that to a child.

“Is he gone?”

He stays silent, still looking down at the two children and at your lap.

“Doctor, is Cliffjumper gone?”

“It is… not known yet,” he says quietly, standing up and walking over to the rubber pile, setting the two children down in it before turning back to you, “I believe you say that it is ‘up for debate’.”

“Yeah for something like parents arguing or what to eat for dinner not… a friend dying,” you say quietly, picking up Ravage and hugging him against your chest.

He stays silent again looking for the words.

“You cared for him.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand… You barely knew him, he was nothing more then your caretaker,” he starts, his voice gurgling into something robotic as the lights flickered, “you care for someone you know nothing about.”

“So? He was still a person, and he cared for me, and nobody deserves to die just for trying to survive,” You whisper. Ravage meows in your arms, squirming in discomfort at your harsh pets. You ease up on the pets, your gaze locking with the ground.

“It’s a war, he was bound to die eventually.”

“So are you, but you don’t have to be an ass about it,” You snap, letting Ravage shimmy out of your arms and watching him as he crawls up on Sowa’s lap, “And even if you were right, wars are stupid, nobody deserves to be in a war.”

He didn’t answer, instead standing up and letting Ravage scale up to his shoulder as he walked to the foam pit and set down the two kids. They groan, mildly protesting before letting go and holding onto each other instead. Ravage joined them, resting at their heads and purring quietly.

“You are more kind than many people, perhaps this war could have been avoided if you were there,” he said lowly, kneeling in front of you and taking your hand, “but it is doubtful your opinion would have stopped the two factions from fighting.”

“Thanks I feel so much better,” You pull away from Sowa and stand up, dragging your hand down your face as you walk to the wall.

You rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes as you wrap your arms around yourself in a pseudo hug. He was right, you were one person, even if you had been there, what would a little human do to stop a war? What could one person do to stop a war?

Two arms wrapped around you, keeping you firmly pressed against his chest as Sowa sighed. He rested his head on your shoulder, keeping silent for a moment before squeezing you gently.

“It’s not your fault, and you're not even supposed to be involved in this, you cannot feel guilty for a war and death that was inevitable,” He muttered, pulling away and turning you back to look at him, his lips pressed into a thin line and he reached up and wiped away the wet from your cheek.

“I have to.” Your voice comes out weak and cracked. You had to, they were people too, people who had dreams, had ambitions, had friends and families. Bumblebee had known nothing but war, he didn’t know what peace meant.

“No, you don’t, this doesn’t involve you.” He mimicked your volume, “This is a memory, my memory, this was what I experienced before the war, I would give many things to have this moment back.”

He gestured to the three in the foam pit, soundly asleep and snoring softly. He turned back to you and cupped your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over it.

“You are a smart and capable human, you can make a new life until I find a way for you to go home,” he whispered, slowly moving you towards the foam pit, “You cannot stay with the autobots.”

Before you could protest, he brought you down into the foam pit next to the three sleeping. He sits down beside you, awkwardly bending his lanky legs to fit in the pile of foam.

“I can’t leave the Autobots, they said they’d get me home once the war was over-”

“This war will never be over until we destroy each other,if you get more involved with this then you already are, the Decepticons would not hesitate to kill you and go to your home as well.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

His body radiated a heat that almost burned you, making you close your eyes as the intense waves of heat rolled off him. He let out a breath, his chest heaving up and down. The heat died down a little, but didn’t leave.

“My Children died in this war, I only have one left, I do not wish for you to suffer as I have,” he says softly, squeezing you tightly, “You have no one you need to protect, you need to be protected.”

“I…I can’t just leave, Sowa, I care for these people and I might be able to help,” you try to explain, opening your eyes and looking up at him. He was looking down at you, his eyes locking onto yours before he nodded slowly.

“I can’t force you,” he said quietly, his arm loosening around you, “just please, think about it.”

Little hands grabbed your shirt, a quiet groan coming from the faces now buried in your stomach from the two dimmed lights that had somehow managed to roll over to where you were without you noticing.

“Are ya leavin’?” Rumble mutters, tiredly rubbing his face as he looks up at you. He grabbed another handful of your shirt and yanked you to lay down, snuggling into your side, “Please don’t, I like ya, ya sound nice an’ we don’t got a carrier.”

He shoved the side of his head against your chest and Frenzy did the same to your back, effectively trapping you with their tiny, ungodly strong hands.

“Aw honey, I'm sorry but I gotta go eventually,” You say, softening at the child's plea for your company.

“Pleaseee, I promise we’ll be good,” Frenzy whines, his arms tightening almost painfully around your chest.

Another pair of arms wrap around the three of you, pulling you deeper into the pile of foam. Sowa curled around you three, carefully making sure to set Ravage on your side.

“Stay, sleep for a bit, you’ll be okay when you wake up just… think about what I said.”

The purple haze washes over you again, mixed with the lights of Rumble, Frenzy, and Ravages. It was warm, the comforting fog of the family made you sink further into your mind. Away from worry, away from war, away from the Autobots and Decepticons. The sting of your broken soul faded away, filled with his instead. He was supporting you, keeping you from falling back down.

“I’m so sorry for what has happened to you, but I will not let you fade,” he promised. The promise was a lock, the citrusy smell digging into your smell and anchoring it there. He urged you to sleep, they all did.

Stay.

Sleep.

Please just be with us.

Your eyes closed, you were safe in his arms, in his memories you would never leave. A permanent resident of his happiest time. The sparks of the many he had created along with one he had saved. He was happy here, you were happy here.

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

Panicked noises woke up, beeping, the roaring of fire, the slamming windchimes, rain, the beating of a heart- it was to much- too much-

A cowbell.

A guitar string.

And a steady faucet drip.

They were new, they were… odd, almost as panicked as the others but in a strange way, scared.

Little hands touched your arm and the dinging got louder, A gentle shake tried to rouse you from your sleep. Another rougher grasp took hold of your arm, viciously shakily you as the thrumming got more frequent. The rougher hand was pulled away by the water, a mutter broke through the barrage of worried noise.

“Stop…. Hurt….”

The three new sounds were pulled away as the windchimes came closer. The ground left your back and was replaced by warm metal digits that trembled lightly.The three sounds quickly came back, clambering onto the servo with you, getting quieter in the presence of the windchimes.

“Wake up, please.”

The genuinity of the voice made it hard to resist its plea. As much as you wanted to stay with the pleasant feel of the four who had asked so nicely for you to stay, the panicking voice of Ratchet made it hard to stay.

Your eyes cracked open and the usually blinding light was replaced with the several bright blue lights of your inhuman friends and the softer eyes of three humans hovering above you.

“Look! Street girl’s waking up!”

#tfp #transformers x reader #arcee x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers #bulkhead #bumblebee x reader #cliffjumper #ratchet x reader

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churipu · 3 months

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YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader

note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.

GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?

being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.

the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.

gojo gets very pissy about it.

frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.

and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.

you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.

gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.

the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.

he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.

GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.

after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.

geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.

he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.

although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.

geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.

he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.

with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.

getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.

he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.

but you were there to prove him wrong.

after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?

you. apparently.

he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.

and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.

letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.

with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.

toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).

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i-cant-sing · 16 days

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TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

#yandere baldwin #yandere king baldwin #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x #yandere x darling #yandere #baldwin iv

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gogh-with-the-flow · 6 months

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Thinking about Mechanics!141 and fem reader with a shitbox car (totally not me). You're in there every three to four weeks with something going wrong with your death trap of a car. The boys aren't sabotaging your car or anything. They don't need to. Your car is just that bad. It's a miracle it hasn't killed you yet. You're trying to save up for a newer car, but your shitbox keeps burning a hole in your wallet with every light blinking on your dashboard. It's to the point that the boys recognize you as soon as you walk into the shop. They hear the bell ring and they just know it's you again.

(Contains: sex as payment, oral sex/blowjob, fingering/masturbation) but of a different style from BitW but enjoy. Not proofread :p

"What is it now?" Price asks, wiping the motor oil from his hands on a greasy rag. You're already looping the key fob off your keychains.

"It's shaking whenever I get above 45."

"What part of the car is shaking?" He asks, pulling up your information on the computer.

"All of it," you say, slapping the key onto the counter with a huff. Price gives you a sympathetic look.

"Darling, you should really get yourself something more reliable," he tells you. You sigh and lean your elbows on the counter. His eyes glance down to your chest and the low-cut shirt you were wearing.

"I'm trying, Price," you say with a little more attitude than you intended. "It's impossible to save money when everything goes back into this fucking car!" You run your hands over your face. "I'm gonna die in that thing," you mutter, only half-joking. Price stops typing for a moment, thinking to himself.

"What if we could work something out?" He asks tentatively. You look up at him to see him already staring you down.

"Like... a loyalty discount?" You try to clarify. Surely he didn't mean...

"I was thinking something more along the lines of... an alternative method of payment." He leans against the counter in front of you, his face close to yours. He smelled like what you'd expect: motor oil and engine grease and musky, manly sweat. "Something under-the-table..." Your heart skipped a beat at the double-meaning of his words, allowing him just enough plausible deniability if you chose to not accept. You swallowed hard.

"What do you have in mind?" You ask softly, your heart pounding in your chest, and with how hard Price was staring at your cleavage, you think maybe he could see it. You reach a hand out to stoke a finger along his arm, feeling the coarse hair all over it. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

"I think I have something in the back office that might work. Follow me and I'll show you."

It wasn't that you were totally desperate. Well, you were. This car had cost you thousands more than it was worth and you needed to save any penny you could when it came to it. But you wouldn't have followed just any mechanic into the rinky-dink office at the back of the auto shop. This was John Price. And he was all man.

"You want that discount, you're gonna have to work for it."

Broad shoulders tapering into a narrower waist, but still lined with the perfect ratio of hearty muscle and soft belly, all leading down to an alluring bulge and plump ass, and finally, those thick, beefy thighs. Not to mention his hands: thick, strong, and calloused from years of hard manual labor, and forearms and biceps that twisted and flexed underneath his button-down work shirt.

He holds the door open for you, his body crowding you into the tight space. The office is more of an oversized closet with a desk and an old computer. He closes the door behind you both and settles himself into the rickety office chair, which creaks under his weight. He sits with his legs spread and his hands on his thighs and gestures for you to come closer.

You kneel between his legs and he smirks, adjusting his hips in the chair while you work open his belt. He lets you open his trousers for him but pushes them down for you so his semi-hard cock can spring free. He sighs when you take it into your hand, stroking him to full hardness.

He isn't much of a moaner, you didn't expect him to be, but his chest puffs as you take the tip into your mouth and suck on it lightly. Your hand moves up and down his shaft slowly, your fingers moving to meet your lips. You lick around the head and push the tip of your tongue into his slit, making his hips jerk lightly.

You close your eyes, letting yourself fully focus on his cock, letting desire and submissiveness take over your mind as you work to please him on your knees. You take him deeper into your mouth, widening your jaw and rocking your mouth side to side to fit him farther down. Your other hand slides up his thick, meaty thigh to massage his balls while you find yourself in a gentle rhythm. You bob your head, going down just far enough, but not enough to gag you, and sucking hard on the way up as your hand holds and twists the base. You melt onto him, the feeling of him in your mouth quieting your mind, leaving any thought of hesitancy far, far behind. All you need is John Price's dick in your mouth, and you think you could reach enlightenment between his thighs.

You barely register the fact that you're moaning around him until he's teasing you for it.

"Yeah? You like this, don't you? Letting me drag you to the back of the shop to suck my cock like the little whore you are." You whimpered at the filthy words he was spitting down at you. "Knew you would- the boys and I- knew you'd like us usin' you like this," he says with a grunt as he watches your eyes roll back. "Go on and touch yourself for me, dear."

You let go of his balls and quickly open your pants to sneak your hand inside. Your pussy is soaked, your fingers gliding through your lips with ease. You moan louder as you circle your clit, the motion sending sparks through your pelvis and thighs.

"There's a good girl. So obedient. I can hear how wet you are for me." He places a hand on your head, not pushing, just guiding your pace up and down his length. You press your tongue to the underside of his cock to add pressure while you touch your clit, the wet nub buzzing with electricity.

"Just like that," he puffs. He holds up his shirt and you see through your fluttering lashes the way his abs constrict with pleasure. "Go on, make yourself cum like that. Think you can do it? You think you can cum with my cock down your throat?" His hips jerk up into your mouth again with more urgency.

Your thighs twitch as your stomach tightens. His vulger words send you over the edge, and your hips stutter against your hand. Your body twitches and thrusts on the floor between his thighs.

"Good girl- good fuckin' girl," he says, his voice deep and strained, and he fists your hair harder and pulls it tight. The rush of euphoria makes you moan around him low and loud, and he cums into your mouth with a grunt. You choke on the salty fluid, swallowing what you can, but some of it slips out of your lips and drips down your chin.

He pulls you off and takes a good look at how ruined you are, your lips swollen, your eyes unable to focus, your hand down your pants, and best of all, his cum decoration your face. He smiles at you and hands you a relatively clean rag to clean your face. Little black streaks preplace white droplets on your skin, and he can't help the fond smile that creeps up on him. He's marked you now in more ways than one.

He untangles his hand from your hair and let's you rest your head on his knee until you catch your breath. You take your hand out of your pants, and he motions for you to raise it up to him, and instead of wiping it with the rag, he leans forward and sucks your wet fingers into his mouth. He holds your eyes and you feel his tongue swiping across the pads of your fingers, until he releases then with a smack of his lips.

"I'll let the boys know about our little arrangement. They'll collect their own payment when you pick it up tomorrow," he says with a wink. He helps you stand up and walks you back to the front, leaving you with one final squeeze to you ass. "Oh, and you might want to wash your hair," he adds as he opens the door to the garage. He hands up a greasy hand. "Got motor oil in it. Sorry."

#captain john price #john price #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x female reader #fem reader #mechanic!141 #mechanic!price

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2hightocare · 10 days

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from the vault🤍🤍🤍 kuwtb dating era.

"You need to be quiet, baby," Jungkook whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You weren't good at being quiet, something Jungkook knew, but he loved putting his girlfriend to the test. Here you both were in your childhood bedroom, locked doors, past midnight, with your parents sleeping down the hallway.

You lay on your small bed, the pink covers down to your belly, as Jungkook leaves purplish marks on your neck. Your core dripping and soaking the lace panties you're wearing. A small chuckle escapes your boyfriend as he runs a finger through your wet folds, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip.

"You know how bad I am at being quiet... fuck," a soft moan escapes your lips as he attaches his mouth onto your nipple, twirling his tongue around the bud before sucking and occasionally biting, which has you throwing your head back and pulling on Jungkook's hair.

"That's the fun of it, baby," he stares up, giving your nipple a flick.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you watch your boyfriend throw the covers off the bed before settling in between your legs, your pink panties soaked.

—the small wet patch in the middle has Jungkook's cock twitching in his sweatpants.

"Mine," he leaves a chaste kiss on your pussy. You suck in a breath as you watch your boyfriend pull down your now-ruined thong-throwing it somewhere in your room. His tattooed hand spreads open your legs.

A desperate little cry leaves your lips as Jungkook attaches his mouth onto your pussy, licking a wet long stripe-strings of wetness and saliva mixed together whenever Jungkook separates his mouth from your aching cunt.

Jungkook doesn't waste any more time before attaching his mouth once again before ravishing your folds like there was no tomorrow. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wet sounds from your pussy covering your soft high-pitched moans.

"Fuck, I c-can't," You whine, your fingers tugging harshly on your boyfriend's hair to pull him off, but his grip on you is much tighter. His tongue flicks rapidly on your sensitive bud, sucking on it occasionally, making it puffy and swollen. You have a white pillow over your face, trying so hard to contain the moans you so badly want to let out.

"I'm gonna come, fuck, fuck, fuck, ah," you squeak.

The moment your eyes roll to the back of your head, about to let go, Jungkook quickly detaches his mouth from your pussy with a loud pop.

"What the fuck?" You whine, your voice muffled from behind the pillow, which has Jungkook snatching the pillow away from your face. A disheveled, pouty you stares back at Jungkook, making him laugh before dropping down to kiss your face.

"That was mean," you pout, your hands wrapped around your boyfriend's neck pulling him down, making him fall on top of you.

"Baby, I'm going to squeeze you to death," Jungkook lifts a bit of his weight, giving your lips a wet, lazy kiss.

"What a heavenly way to die," you hum happily.

"You're cute, baby," Jungkook jokingly bites your cheek, which has you giggling and pulling away. "Stop, ew!" you joke, pushing his face away before wiping his saliva off your cheek with a giggle.

"Ew? Two seconds ago I was just eating yo-" Jungkook gets interrupted with a small hand on his mouth.

"Shush, you're so loud," you hush. Jungkook only nods before licking your palm; you quickly retract your hand with a low giggle.

"Okay, baby, where are the condoms?" Jungkook quickly stands up from the bed, going directly to the place his girlfriend is pointing at. "There's only one left, remind me to buy more," Jungkook says quietly before making his way back to bed, dropping his sweats, letting his cock spring free before jumping back into bed with you.

"Hi," he says before ripping the condom open with his teeth.

"Hi," you reply back with a giggle.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jjk #bangtan #fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk smut

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eightstarr · 8 months

Text

baby — abby anderson.

summary: you're on patrol with abby and you make her squirt for the first time. you don't mean to make a habit out of distracting her, but in your defense, it's hard to focus on anything else when she looks so pretty all serious and focused on keeping you safe! and you are only so strong!

notes: i don't ever really write smut and it for sure shows but anyway here it is! what no one asked for! yet again! also excuse the surprising amount of feelings that are in this considering it's technically supposed to be porn? it wouldn't be me if someone didn't say i love you at least once tho

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

"Do you have a danger kink or something?" Abby asks, trying to sound cool, but her breathing's a little too staggered for that. You've got her backed up against a counter in a random kitchen of a lonesome, old house.

You smooth your tongue over her pulse and feel her shudder, your hands sneaking under her loose shirt to cup her waist, fingers squeezing adoringly. "Can't I have some fun with my girl?"

"Yeah, but—" Abby cuts herself off with a moan that's almost embarrassing considering how little you're touching her. "You did this last time, too. It's like you want to get caught."

"Caught by who?" You scoff, lifting your head to look at her, nodding once as a silent way to say up. She abides without thinking, her palms against the counter as she pushes herself up to sit on top of it. You're needy enough that you don't bother teasing, no 'good girl', no 'what would your soldiers think if they saw you be so obedient?'. You slot yourself between her thighs and continue your assault on her neck, fingers brushing over chest. "There's no one here, baby."

Baby is perhaps your biggest tell. You call her baby when she's been away for too long, when you've had a long day and show up at her door unannounced, in the morning when you've woken up from a dream that left you aching that you refuse to share the details of no matter how much she asks. 'Baby' means you're desperate. And 'baby' makes Abby pull you closer, because nothing makes her need you more than you being desperate for her.

She lifts herself up enough to let you pull her cargo pants and boxers off in one motion, and her heart skips a beat as you sink to your knees, guiding her legs over your shoulders. She used to fret about that, fret about a lot of things— but the admittedly ridiculous thought of accidentally squeezing you to death was up there. You'd made the stupid joke, as anyone would, at least I'd die happy. But when that didn't quite work besides earning a roll of her eyes and a slight smirk to her lips, you'd simply gotten back to work on making her cum on your mouth until she had no choice but to close her legs around you. And when she did, the movement mindless and needy, you groaned and left loving fingerprints on her thighs enough to reassure her that you liked it. Loved it. You loved a lot of things that Abby used to be insecure about.

The point is, she shouldn't be shocked to see you get down on your knees. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sight anymore, you've made sure of that. But even on the first time you fucked, with all the eagerness and want and sense of overdue of your affections, Abby doesn't think she saw you quite this ravenous.

It's like you're drunk on it, like you didn't have her in a way not too different from this just a mere two days ago. You eat her like you're fucking starving. Not pulling away to breathe, your nose brushing against her clit just right, moaning every time she bucks her hips or pulls your hair.

When Abby cums, she feels it in her chest. It sinks on top of her, a lovely heaviness, and then drops off of her all together and leaves her weightless. When you don't stop, she breathes out a chuckle that turns into a broken moan and buries her fingers back in your hair, half expecting you to pull away still. But time passes, drags on and speeds away much too fast all at once, and you don't.

She's saying your name, she thinks, or a sound as close to it as her mind will allow her to formulate. Abby knows she's loud by the way her noises are echoing through the empty room, mocking her. Before she can feel embarrassed by it, as if you can read her mind as easily as anything else, you drag your mouth down and fuck into her with your tongue in a way that she didn't know could feel so good before she met you. As quickly as it came, the shame is gone. Her lips part and her sounds grow louder still, spilling out of her carelessly. You want to reward her, you think somewhere in the back of your mind, want her to know how much you love it. It's a privilege to make Abby Anderson a mess, and it always makes you lightheaded with need.

You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck, and Abby lets go of your head for once to grab onto the counter and make a lame attempt to keep herself still, her knuckles white.

The pressure building in her low abdomen is familiar, but then your hand comes to lay flat against the exact spot and something about the weight of it makes the feeling twist into something different.

Abby gasps quick breaths, her eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion and enough pleasure to drown it out and soothe the meaningless pain of bumping her head back against the wall.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, barely legible. And it's fine, she thinks, it's just like every other time. But then she feels it start to unravel, finally, and it's the same but also not at all. "Fuck, wait, I think— fuck!" she's panting, shaking and forcing her gaze to refocus just to watch the way your eyes fall closed, the way your eyebrows furrow. You moan against her and the sound is loud even while suffocated, even though you've somehow managed to push your face closer to her, press your tongue deeper. Abby feels it gush out of her and it's nothing like anything she's felt before, so good and so much and she doesn't want it to ever end, even as she blabbers, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You don't seem to hear her, hungrier than she's ever seen you— you look fucking possessed. You pull back and the sight of you is dizzying, embarrassing, and it's the only thing Abby wants to look at for the rest of her life. Your lips are glistening, yes, but so is your chin, your cheeks, her cum dripping down your neck. Your eyes are dark, more pupils than anything else, and they swallow her whole. You haven't pulled back too far, your breath still hot against her, but it's enough that you can replace your mouth with your fingers and rub on her clit. What's left in her comes out in soft spurtz, dripping onto the floor, and you couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried.

But Abby doesn't know that, doesn't know what you're thinking at all. You're surprised, but is it in a bad way? It must be. Are you disgusted? You're so covered in her that it feels like you'll never be able to wash it off, and Abby can't read your mind like you do hers, so she doesn't know that the thought thrills you, that your heart is fucking pounding in your chest, that your underwear is utterly and completely fucking ruined. You lick your lips and swipe your chin with the back of your hand, absentminded. Abby's thinking, begging, say something.

"Holy fuck," is all you can manage, a quiet mutter, breathless. Your fingers haven't stopped rubbing, but a whine and an especially forceful quiver of her legs makes you blink and you stop like you've just come out of a trance, your hand moving instantly to soothe up and down her thigh.

"I'm sorry," Abby repeats, and then you look at her face like you've just remembered it's there.

Look up at her like she's fucking crazy, like she's grown a second head, mumbling, "What?"

"I didn't— I tried to warn you," she says, even though she doesn't know that she could've. It felt so foreign, she wouldn't have known how to explain it, really.

You lower her trembling thighs from your shoulders carefully, not before pressing a kiss against each one, and then you stand up. Abby wonders if this is where you'll tell her you didn't like that, where you'll help her put her clothes back on and then you'll promise each other to never speak of it again. Instead, your eyes grow impossibly gentle, impossibly loving, and you tuck yourself closer between her legs. The hem of your jeans brushes against her core and she gasps, but doesn't move away. "Baby," you call softly, pecking her lips. "Has this never happened to you before?"

Abby feels a little like she's suffocating, the breeze coming in through the window you'd opened when you first came in not enough to soothe her anymore. But you brush your knuckles over the faint scar on her cheekbone and her shoulders grow limp, her body relaxing except for where she's shaking— fuck, she is still fucking shaking. She remembers your question and shakes her head.

You don't show her how embarrassingly proud that makes you, that you made that happen before anyone else did, because it's not the time. You tuck the feeling in your pocket for later and hum, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, to get back on your knees until they're bruised and make her cum in whatever form she'll give you all over again. "Did it feel good?" You ask, not mocking, but curious.

If she wasn't so embarrassed, Abby would've laughed. It is very possible, and the thought does nothing to ease her shame, that nothing has ever felt so good. But admitting that feels like too much, so instead she whispers, "Yeah."

You smile, happy, genuinely relieved. "Then what are you saying sorry for?" You ask, kissing her again before you can help it. "That's my fucking job. I want you to feel good."

The words alleviate like water to a small fire, and Abby feels silly for having forgotten that it's you who she's with. She's had the thought before, but it suddenly becomes more present than ever, practically breathing down her neck— that she wants to keep you forever. Keep is maybe a bad word for it. She wants to be around you forever, for as long as you'll let her, wants to move into your shitty apartment and make you breakfast and sleep every night in your cropped shirts that fit slightly too tight and make her look ridiculous. She ought to say she loves you more often, she thinks. You say it nearly every time you see her now, like the words have been bubbling inside you for too long and now they can't be kept away. It's a fairly fresh relationship, but the feelings are ancient for both of you, and it shows.

"I love you," Abby sighs, and presses her lips against yours before you can say it back. It's sloppy, she's barely starting to come down from her high, but you don't complain. You kiss her with vigor, like you're trying to spell it out with your tongue, I love you. When you pull apart, her eyes fall from your eyes to your chest and she winces, eyes squeezing shut as her forehead falls on your shoulder.

"What?" You ask, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head immediately, without thought.

"Your shirt," she mumbles against you. You glance down and let out a soft oh. The white fabric of your tank top is soaked, mostly near the neckline, sticking to your skin. You hadn't noticed. Abby lifts her head to look at you, freckled face flushed red, so pretty that you forget about the mess she made of you all over again. "You have to change. We can't go back with you looking like that," she says— or begs, more like.

"I didn't bring anything else with me," you tell her, humming appreciatively as you look back down at your chest, grinning. "Besides, this is my favorite shirt now."

Abby groans, the kind of whiney, timid sound that you could've never imagined her making before you become her girlfriend. The kind of sound that makes you weak in the fucking knees, needy and cotton-mouthed. "It's not funny," she hides her face in her hands and huffs, "'S embarrassing."

You're chuckling, but biting into your lip to stifle it when she lowers her head further down, chin against her chest. With careful touch, you wrap your fingers around her wrists and guide her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her skin is hot beneath your lips, and you hum at the feeling of it. She's usually so cold, your Abby, freezing fingers sneaking under your shirt at night and making you shudder. It's a pleasure to make her warm, an honor to see her shy. You love her so much it tugs at you, a constant reminder.

"You're a dream, Abby. Fucking perfect," you say, as clearly as you can while dragging your lips down her neck. She's the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on, so beautiful that sometimes you can't sleep, too excited that she's there next to you to ever close your eyes. And you need her to know, but you're not really one with words, so all that comes out is, "Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants, you know that?"

Abby moans. Her breath gets caught in her throat as you suck marks into her neck and she finds that she couldn't care less right now, about the evidence that'll be left on her skin or your stupid wet shirt. She guides your face up with a hand on the back of your neck, and kisses her flavor off your lips until she can't anymore, until her lungs burn and her lips tingle. Your voice echoes in her head. Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants. Nearly, she thinks. That doesn't sound very fair.

Thick fingers make quick work of your zipper, trailing over your lower tummy and sneaking under your underwear. She's a little fast, but you've never minded. Sometimes she'll notice and force herself to slow down, to savor, but most of the time her mind doesn't let her catch up to it. Like now. She can't worry about looking clumsy or overly-enthusiastic, because she just needs to feel you. Because she wants to check that you weren't lying, that she could've made you cum without ever touching you— and it's there, the overwhelming fucking truth of it soaking her hand. You gasp at the contact, and Abby's thighs squeeze you in place, as if you'd ever leave. "Jesus Christ," she pants. She finds herself saying it a lot lately. Jesus Christ. Oh my fucking God. Calling upon figures she doesn't believe in, delusional enough to think for a second that they'll bring some kind of comfort, release her of her sins.

You're so wet that it doesn't take more than a minute for her confidence to slowly grow back, so wet that it doesn't take more than two to make you cum. It's the fastest she's ever seen you fall apart, and it wouldn't be Abby if her immediate thought (right after that was so fucking hot) wasn't bet I can make it quicker. Her ego fizzles in her chest, warm and euphoric. Abby thinks she doesn't remember the last time she felt as proud about something as she does every time she makes you feel good. Isaac's occasional pat on her shoulder and mutter of 'good job' is laughable in comparison, as is the high of working herself till she's covered head to toe in sweat at the gym, as is everything else.

It might be the honeymoon phase the movies talk about. You slowly catch your breath and raise your head from her shoulder to look at her with the same adoration as you did when she kissed you for the first time, and Abby has a hard time believing that the feeling will ever go away. Movies get a lot of things wrong, anyway.

She's walking slower than usual on your way back home, her steps sluggish, and you're sweet enough to only make fun of her for it a little bit. One comment here and there, earning a scoff when you lean closer and offer to carry her bride style, a badly stifled laugh when you hum thoughtfully and wonder out loud about what Owen must be doing right now.

Her fingers are interlaced with yours and normally she would've let go by now, a little sheepish to show that much vulnerability in front of the people who are supposed to respect her, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind. You crack another stupid joke and she giggles like she did when she was a kid, silly and sweet, tugging your hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.

Manny looks you up and down as soon as you cross the gates, dark eyebrows raised. "The fuck happened to you?" He asks. You look at him with a confused frown and wait for him to clarify, "You're wet."

Abby's stiff as a board where she stands next to you, her quick blinking the only evidence that she hasn't actually been frozen in place by some kind of magic spell.

You're much more casual. "It's fucking hot. I poured some water on myself to cool off."

Manny hums. He's seen you do it before, maybe that's why he doesn't question it. He does note, though, the suspicious way in which Abby walks silently and swiftly past him with her eyes pointedly on the floor. Her hand is tight around yours still, and you follow because— well, of course you do.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #tlou fic #abby anderson x female!reader #abby smut

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luveline · 5 months

Note

Can I request an Eddie and Roan, where she goes to Wayne's house and Eddie and Reader are there talking with Wayne but also planning what to get Roan for Christmas?

eddie and roan ♡ fem!reader

“Got it?”

Roan nods and hops up the last step to Uncle Wayne's while you and Eddie follow behind her. You're carrying a big Christmas cake held tight to your chest while Roan's father insists on carrying the drinks, an eighteen pack of glass cokes, enough to keep Wayne going for the next two weeks at least, less with help.

“Uncle Wayne!” Roan calls as she opens the door. It swings wide and hits the wall. She doesn't care. She's about to see Wayne for the first time in almost two weeks, and she missed him like crazy. Eddie almost got sick of hearing her ask when he'd be feeling better. “Uncle Wayne!”

The second shout is much more desperate.

Wayne appears in the curve behind the kitchen doorway to smile at her. “Hello, my chicken.”

Eddie snorts and slams the cokes down on the sideboard with a jumble of clinks. Wayne is a great dad, but he never called Eddie anything so saccharine. Bud and babe was about as good as it got. Roan gets all the sweet stuff, chicken and gorgeous and baby girl. It doesn't quite make Eddie jealous —nothing feels as secure in parenthood as knowing someone else loves your kid just as much as you do. Wayne would die for Roan without question. He can call her chicken if he likes.

Roan barrels across the carpet in her Mary Jane's and slams into his legs. He pulls her up into his chest, giving her hair a smattering of quick kisses, her dress bunched by his hugging arm. “It's so nice to see you, honey, I missed you!”

She grins and makes a pleased, almost feral sort of sound as she kisses his cheek. “I missed you too! We missed our sleepover!”

“Yes, we did. So I get you for two days, yes?”

“Yes!” she shouts, looking over her shoulder at you and Eddie to confirm.

Eddie holds up his now empty hands, though they don't stay that way for long as he takes the cake from you. “No arguments here.”

Roan laughs and squeezes herself under Wayne's chin. He wraps her up and keeps her, assessing you and Eddie with suspicious eyes. “How are you both doing?”

Eddie brushes past Wayne to put the cake on the table. Wayne isn't really asking Eddie; they know too much about one another having spent the last decade together, first by sharing a wall and now working side by side at the shop. Eddie's sure Wayne's sick to death of his complaining by now, but you're deserving of some sympathy for sure.

“She's getting better. Aren't you, sweet thing?” Eddie asks you.

“I'm fine,” you say, shooting Wayne a smile. “It was probably the same thing you had.”

“Yeah? He take care of you?”

“Always does. He's never let me down.” You cross your arms over your front. “But how are you doing?”

“I know you missed her,” Eddie interjects, “but if you're not feeling up to it, she doesn't have to stay all weekend.”

Wayne raises his eyebrows to protest. Roan beats him to it, yanking herself away from his cuddling to glare at the suggestion. “Dad, you said!”

“Said I'd see if he was up to it, yeah,” Eddie placates.

“I'm up to it.” Wayne gives Roan a soft smile. “We'll be good, right? Watch TV, eat hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, ‘n’ dinner. Dad's just being silly.”

Roan leans back into the hug, relieved, and Wayne pulls her head to his chest, covering her ear subtly. “Thought you needed to get some things? You know, from Santa?” he whispers, ‘Santa’ mouthed without sound.

“Yeah, if we knew what to get her,” Eddie says, brushing his hair behind his ears. “Kid's impossible. Asked Santa for a baby sister and a pet turtle.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“Wayne–”

“The turtle, I mean.” He nods at you apologetically.

You aren't offended at the idea of a baby sister being an easy gift, and you laugh at his correction. “We don't have room for the tank, I already checked.”

“She got the measuring tape out and everything.”

“What?” Wayne asks. “Put it outside.”

“It's not that easy,” Eddie sighs morosely. “They're very particular creatures.”

“It’ll suit you nicely, then.”

You laugh again. Roan wriggles to be put down, curious at the sound, though she wasn't as deafened as it seemed. “Santa will bring the tank, guys, that's how Santa works, and the turtle. We just need to move the couch,” she says simply.

“Where will we watch TV?” you ask.

“Here?” Roan suggests.

Eddie nudges Wayne in the side. “Looks like I'm moving back in after all.”

Coats are taken off, shoes stacked in a corner. Wayne makes everyone a cup of coffee and a sandwich, even Roan, though her coffee is milk with just a splash of coffee that she begs for but doesn't touch after the initial sip. Theories for where they might house and care for a pet turtle are shared through crumbs and foam moustaches, Wayne with a lap full of grandchild, and you with an armful of Eddie. He keeps turning to you to scan your face for signs of fatigue or sickness, eyes lingering, his hand resting and rubbing at the top of your thigh.

“We'll have to give up our room,” he suggests to you with an air of defeat. Despite his sombre tone, love lines his gaze. “When the turtle gets huge and wants to go back to the ocean, we'll have to fill our bedroom up with a swimming pool.”

Roan sits back guiltily. “Well, maybe not like that. Can the turtle sleep with me?”

“That could be fun. We'll get you a water bed,” you say, to Eddie's delight. He chokes on a handful of chips and needs to be whacked on the back lest he asphyxiate, and while you're still laughing at your own joke and his reaction, you pat him more gently on the back before passing him your full coke. “Here, handsome.”

Wayne's pretty sure his nephew's found his soulmate. “What about a tortoise instead?” he asks Roan, attempting to spare you both.

Roan pouts at her Uncle, confusion furrowing her thin brows. “What's the difference?”

“Couple hundred dollars?” Eddie asks.

Wayne kicks him under the table, but never hard enough to hurt. “Nothing much, chick. I'm sure Santa will figure it out.”

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thegnomelord · 5 months

Note

For the prompt game, maybe 7 with price and m!reader. Price gets pissed off that reader almost got themselves killed on a mission to protect him. Just some lovely old man angst

Tumblr's acting up again and it's deleted my draft like 3 times so fingers crossed this works else I will cry😓 . I saw the old man angst and immediately thought of Rodolfoparras work and this so yeah. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: “Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?”

CW: SFW-ish, Omega John Price, Alpha Male reader, mentions of gore, kissing, angst, omegaverse.

When your file had landed on his desk he had contemplated refusing; you were a stereotypical alpha — a loudmouthed meathead with little regard for your own health, headstrong and stupidly stubborn over the dumbest shit, and with a long list of incident reports dating back to the first day you joined the army. TF141 was your last chance before a dishonorable discharge and Price, stupidly, had taken you in like the stray you were.

Safe to say you turned out to be the leading cause of his grey hairs with all the shit you pulled. . . but. . . not to the extent he expected.

Unlike most alphas, you were surprisingly receptive to taking orders from an omega like Price, and carried yourself around the others without attempting to establish the dated hierarchy. After giving you guidance, and learning how you thought, Price had been seeing serious improvement.

'Course, all of that went down the drain when you decided to charge head first into a group of enemies when Price had gotten stabbed.

"What the fuck were you thinking lad?" Price hisses harshly under his breath, eyes boring a hole between your brows. He's standing at the foot of the medical bed, watching your chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. "What the fuck were you thinking?" You better not die so he can kill you himself.

He doesn't expect you to answer, knocked out as you are with your chest wrapped in fresh bandages after the docs fished out who knows how many bullets from your torso— 16, his inner omega reminds him, 16 bullets he took for You.

He sighs, "You're a lucky muppet." Walking around the bed he places a hand on your thigh, slowly inching up to rest on your lower abdomen, dark red spots denoting where bullet wounds lie. "But a stupid alpha." He growls. It's a good thing military alphas are like walking tanks of fat and muscle, you can take a few hits, though the thought does little to soothe his omega when you lay unconscious.

He doesn't even notice he's making a small distressed sound in his chest until your eyes flutter open, squinting from the harshness of artificial lights before you notice him looming over you; something between a guardian angel and death itself.

"Price?" Your nose twitches, lungs expanding despite the ache in your chest to catch his scent, your alpha noticing the sharp acrid taste hiding his usual pine smell. "What happened?" You ask, achy as you are you manage to tilt your head enough to let out a low chest vibrating purr, seeking to calm your omega.

"What happened, it that you dumb muppet almost died!" He hisses, anger making his scent even harsher, hating himself how his omega swoons at the purr, at how you put him before yourself even when you're knocking on death's door. "Were you trying to get killed?"

You hand your head and look away. You can scarcely recall what happened, the drugs and adrenaline muddling your mind so any memory comes out like an abstract painting, but one detail remains — Rage.

A Deep.

—bleeding flesh neath your fingernails, painfilled screams silenced by your snarls—

Dark.

—the 'crack' of bone against stone as the strength behind your hands forced the skull to shatter, blood and brains splashing against your face—

Animalistic.

—desperate hands scrambling against your head, the frantic pulse beneath your tongue rapidly dwindling once your teeth dug deep enough to tear through the jugular—

Rage.

You don't remember ever being as angry as you'd been when you'd seen Price clutching his side, the bloodied blade of a knife clenched between his fingers, unknown hostiles encroaching towards him. Your omega had been injured. Your omega had been injured. And you didn't think twice, vision turned as red as his blood with a singular thought of Kill Kill Kill banging on your skull you didn't even notice you were bleeding.

Like a proper animal. Like something you've been trying to prove you're not.

"I'm-" You swallow, though cleaned, you can still taste the blood of the enemy whose throat you'd torn out, your teeth still stained red. "-sorry. I'm sorry."

"'I'm sorry' he says, is'at the best you've got?" Price presses on, coming closer and bracing a hand on your chest, his limb vibrating from your purr. It's hard to stay mad at you when you're doing this, his omega wanting nothing more but curl next to you, to share warmth and protect you while you recover. "What was going through your thick skull? Wait, let me guess: Nothing." Still he persists, not showing what he's feeling.

You hang your shoulders low and head lower still, chewing on your lip as you listen him chew you out. Something sits heavy in your chest, growing bigger with every word he says like a snowball, his anger leaving your alpha —dumb creature that it is— confused and hurt; why is your omega angry, when you protected him? When you nearly died for him? When you love him—

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay?" You snap, rough and angry, your gaze fixed on his. You stop purring, leaving the room too cold and silent without it. "But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.”

“You… What?”

You flinch and suck in a breath as pain flares across your body. You expected a lot of different responses, from anger to indifference to being told you're out of the taskforce. . . not that.

"Lad." Price's voice is unnervingly calm, one hand on your scruff, the other holding your chin, the sudden contact of his skin on yours fooling your alpha into letting him tilt your head to meet his eyes. "Repeat that. Slowly."

You gaze into his eyes, so many things swirling in the blue yet you're unable to tell any of it. Slowly you breathe in, "I. . . I love you." You say, open and honest and too vulnerable for an old omega like him.

". . .oh, you stupid alpha." Price almost laughs, dimples around his mouth as he smiles. Like puzzle pieces something clicks in his head.

Before his words can feel like a slap to your face he leans in, your foreheads bonking together before you find the right angle for his lips to meet yours. He tastes like his cigars and black coffee and everything you thought he would, your body melting into his, your nose full of his scent, your brain full of him.

"Could have told me without nearly dying." You separate to catch your breaths, foreheads resting against each other, breathing the same air and only now do you notice Price is purring. It's not the same bone rattling purr alphas can produce, but just as soothing, and you can't help but giggle when your own purr causes his to become louder.

You think, maybe, everything will be alright—

"After you get better." He whispers against your lips, soft and sweet, saccharine pine scent sticking to your nose like amber. "You and I will have a long talk about safety."

Maybe not.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #captain john price #abo dynamics #omegaverse #alpha reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x male reader

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Text

You can't hide from me

Mafia!yandere OC x reader

Summary: how could you ever think that you could escape Silas? He'll always find you because after all ... you can't hide from him. He has eyes everywhere.

Warnings: kidnapping, yandere, unhealthy relationships, guns, panic attack(?), mentions of getting punished in the end, criminals, mentions of death, humiliation

Word count: 2.5k

Silas arms are lying around your waist like a cage, breathing down your neck. His chest is glued to your back with his hands tightly together over your stomach to make you stay in place. You can't breathe, but you're not sure if that's the chokehold he has you in or his suffocating presence. All you know is that you have to leave. He came home an hour ago, drenched in more blood than you've ever seen. He's showered twice because you forced him to fo it again when he came out claiming he was clean … but it still feels like he is covered.

You've been planning this for a while. You're going to break into Silas’s safe and take the money you need, take Silas’s car and go to the airport. You know that if you ever want to get away from him, you need to leave the country for a while. If he can’t find you, maybe he’ll give up after a while. Your moral tells you that you shouldn’t steal the money and the car, but the devil camping on your shoulder mutters that after everything Silas has done to you, you should be allowed to take something from him. After all, he’s taken everything from you.

You carefully pry Silas arms off of you. He grunts and hugs you closer. You squeeze your eyes together in frustration. The embrace causes your heart to beat quicker in pure fear. If they don’t leave you soon, you’ll start to have a panic attack and then he’ll wake up … and then you’ll not be able to leave. The second Silas knows that you’re not feeling well, you’ll have even more eyes on you. That’s the least thing you need now.

You try to pry his muscular arms off again. This time, you manage to get out of the bed. Silas start to move in bed, quickly noticing that something’s missing. With your heart in your throat, you look around for something to put in his grasp. You take your pillow and stuff it in his arms.

Every motion is quiet and terrified. You’re horrified you’ll turn around and see him stand right behind you with his death glare, ready to throw you back into the basement. You’d rather die than end up there again. You don’t think you can take another day, week or month in the basement. To be fair, you never know how long you’re down there. One time you entered when the snow was falling outside and came out when the first flowers bloomed.

You dress yourself in a pair of gray sweatpants and black hoodie, shove some necessities into your backpack, grab Silas’ keys and sneak out of the room, silently hoping that the floor planks won’t snitch you out. The only reason you’re able to sneak out of the room is because of how well you’ve been acting lately. You’ve finally gained Silas’s trust! He doesn’t lock the bedroom door anymore and doesn't keep you chained to the bedpost.

The house is filled with men ready to put a bullet in intruders heads … hopefully they won’t think you’re a thief if they notice you. Thankfully, the ones who aren’t asleep are working in the office. You run past and unlock the front door. When the door is unlocked with the key, the alarm doesn't go off. You’ve learned that the hard way.

You jump into Silas’s black car, put in the keys and start the engine. The car roars like a beast. You gasp loudly.

“No, no, no!” you breathe out. “Shh, please! Fucking monster car!”

Quickly, you drive out of the driveway, out onto the street. Most of the time you hate that there aren’t any buildings nearby, but tonight, you’re happy that there’s no one that can see you escape. No one that can snitch you out.

You pull up the map on the screen in the front of the car, following the GPS to get to the airport. Your hands are sweating on the steering wheel. Every car you see in the rear view mirror seems to be Silas’s men, but you tell yourself that you’re being paranoid.

You suddenly realize that the car can be tracked and that one of the cars behind you could very well be one of Silas’ men … or Silas himself. You shiver at the thought. When they track the car to the airport’s parking lot, you need to be on the first best flight.

As soon as you park, you run through the airport, going through security and booking a last minute flight to who-knows-where. You didn’t even check. You cover your face with the hood of your black hoodie to hide your face, scared that someone, anyone could recognize you. You know that Silas could have contacts anywhere. Anyone could work for him.

When you slump down on one of the benches in the waiting area by your gates, you can finally breathe out. Everything’s going to be okay, you tell yourself, you’re going to be safe now. Soon, you’ll be out of the country, away from Silas.

You look at the clock. Three am. Your flight to who-knows-where leaves at five. With a yawn, you cross your arms and sink down in your seat. A few minutes of sleep shouldn’t do much harm.

“Boss, wake up!” second in command shouts and slaps Silas across the face.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he shouts and grabs the man by the collar, wrestling him down into the mattress. “Slapping me, are we? I’m going-”

“Silas, wait, wait! Listen! Y/N’s gone!”

He freezes and quickly looks around the empty room in horror. “Gone?”

“Yes, when the men looked at the security footage this morning, they left the house and took your car!”

“My car?” Silas hurries up from the bed and grabs a pair of black pants and white shirt. “Where did they go? We have to find them!”

“One of our colleagues just messaged us that they were seen at the airport. They work there at the cargo department. Before you freak out, they’ve banned their passport. They can’t leave the country and if they try to leave the airport, the security on our side will take them aside for you.”

Silas smiles cruelly. “My stupid, little baby thinks they can escape me? How silly. I’m going to make them regret being born. Let’s go get them home.”

“You should eat something.”

“Geetting this fucking treatment when waking up is better than an energy drink. Shut up now and go get the other car. I’m not wasting a single second.”

You can see the sun rise outside the big windows and the airplane coming to the gate. When it’s boarding, you walk over to the lady by the check in. She scans your passport and frowns.

“I’m sorry, but it seems like your passport has been blacklisted”, she says.

“What?” you ask in confusion. “No, it shouldn’t be. I haven’t done …” Realization kicks in. “Shit!”

“What?”

“N-Nothing.”

You grab your bag and back away, heart hammering in your ears. Someone recognized you! You’re not safe here. You have to get out of here quickly before they alert Silas.

Just as you’re about to run, you can see two security guards marching over to you. In horror, you stumble backwards, shaking your head as tears start to run down your cheeks.

“N-No, please!” you shout in desperation, voice breaking with panic.

The other passengers look at you with pity in their eyes. For them, this is just another airport freak out … but for you? The end of the world. The men grab your arms firmly.

“Be nice now”, one of them says. “Come with us without resistance and we won’t have any trouble.”

“Hell no!” you shout and start to kick. “Leave me alone!”

They start dragging you with them. You make yourself as much of an inconvenience as possible. You make yourself as heavy as possible, you kick and scratch and twist. They don’t budge. Panic is spreading like fire in your veins when you realize that they’re not using a taser on you or anything that could ‘calm’ you down. They’re definitely working for Silas.

They drag you throughout the airport until you reach a closed off area used for staff only. An empty white room. You’re thrown into the corner.

“You’re a little bitch, aren’t you?” one of the men says, massaging his hand. “Got in a few scratches there.”

You curl up into a ball in the corner of the empty, white room, wishing that you could melt into the walls. Your body is shaking as you hug yourself tightly with tears running down your cheeks.

“You work for him, don’t you?” you whisper with a thick voice, not looking up from the floor.

“What a little genius you are”, the other man says.

You’re silent for the next thirty minutes. If people didn’t know better, they’d think that you were a statue. When the men leave the room, you glance up at the closed door.

“Good morning, sir”, one of the security guards says.

“Good morning”, he says shortly.

You gulp at his harsh voice. He’s going to kill you.

“Are they in here?” he asks.

“Yes, they tried to run away, but we managed to catch them”, one of the security men says.

“Are they hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. Stay here, I’m going to talk to them alone.”

You flinch when the door handle presses down. Quickly, you look away and start to tremble again. In the corner of your eye you can see a pair of legs and the bottom of a black coat entering, closing the door behind. He sighs heavily, making you whimper involuntarily.

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” he murmurs and squats down in front of you.

You turn your head away and press your body closer to the wall. He reaches out and removes your hood, the only shield you have. You start to cry heavily now that you’re all vulnerable to him. He cups your cheek with one hand and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, whimpering.

“Did you really think this would work?” Silas asks, trying to meet your eyes. “You can’t hide from me, baby. I will always find you.”

“I-It’s not fair”, you spit through gritted teeth, glaring at him with a blurry vision. You have come to the part where hiccups crash through your voice. “Y-You have thousands o-of people working for you! I h-have no one!”

“And that’s life, little thing. I don’t play nice.” He tilts his head. “Haven’t you learned that by now?”

“F-Fuck you, Silas. I hate y-you.”

He scoffs and pulls you into his arms. You try to push him away with your hands and feet, but he’s stronger, trapping you against his chest.

“Let me go!” you scream, voice getting muffled into his clothing.

“Stop resisting”, he growls, pulling you closer.

You scream and shake your head. Silas locks your head into his shoulder with one hand and wraps the other around your waist.

“Shh, baby”, he hushes loudly, rocking back and forth. “Shh, calm down. I’m going to take care of you. We’ll make sure this never happens again. Shh, shh.”

You continue to fight, but grow tired quickly. All these hours spent awake and on edge have caught up. It’s no use fighting against him, you’ll never win. You’re sitting limp in Silas’ arms and all you can do is cry into his shoulder. You were so close to getting away. If only you had been a bit more careful.

“There, there, little thing”, Silas whispers in your ear and kisses your temple. He runs his hand over your back. “I have you, you’re safe now.”

He hugs you tighter and exhales, satisfied over having you back into his arms. You fit so well in his embrace.

“Let’s go home”, he says and is about to stand up.

“N-No!” you say, grabbing his coat. “No, please, Silas-”

“Listen, baby, you have two choices. Either, you come with me like a good little pet and don’t cause trouble. That way, your punishment will be much lighter. Or, you can continue to act like a brat and I’ll knock you unconscious and throw you into the basement until you grow mold. What do you say? Are you going to behave?”

You clench your jaw, muttering something he can’t hear.

“What was that, baby?” he asks with a smirk on his face. “Can you repeat?”

You mumble again.

“Louder, baby”, Silas says mockingly. “Use big words.”

“I’ll behave …”, you mutter.

“Good job.”

He stands up and pulls you up on your feet by your armpits. Silas removes his black coat and hangs it around your shoulders, caressing your wet cheek quickly. He hangs your backpack over one of his shoulders. You stare at the hand he offers for you before hesitantly taking it in yours. He opens the door and brings you outside. The security guards avoid looking at you now. The second in command must have warned them.

“If you make any noise, I’m going to use this”, Silas says and shows the hidden revolver tucked in his shirt. “Got it?”

You nod quickly. Together, the four men take you out of the airport by the back door.

“Oh, right, baby”, Silas says, turning to you. “My keys.”

You pull them up from your hoodie pouch and dump them in his hand with a glare. He smiles, thanking you. Silas takes you to the car you escaped in and sits you down in the front seat while he takes the driver's seat. His second in command drives the other car.

“You should try to sleep a little”, Silas says. “You are not going to sleep for quite some time.”

“What are you going to do to me …?” you whisper.

“Oh, I’m going to torture you. Badly.”

You give him a wide eyed look and he chuckles, eyes disappearing into half moons.

“Okay, not badly because you did come with me without problems”, he smiles to calm your nerves. “However, I’m going to make sure you know who you belong to. When I’m done with you, you’ll only know me. You should start getting comfortable with the basement because you’ll spend a lot of time down there.”

You gulp.

“You’ll never try to leave me again, will you?” Silas asks and takes your hand in his.

“No”, you say quickly, shaking your head.

“Good.”

You turn your eyes out the window, taking your last look at the outside world. You can feel how Silas lifts your hand to his lips, giving it a kiss. Oh, how you hate how he doesn’t take anything seriously. You’re terrified and here he is making jokes. It makes you sick to your stomach. Silas is a sick man. How could you ever think that you could escape him?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere oneshot #silas oc #yandere x y/n

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bratphilia · 5 months

Text

note ✧.*‎ hiii so this is completely self indulgent so pls enjoy!! gonna post a couple fics that have been on my mind bc i wanna write when i feel inspired to as much as possible, but reqs will be answered!! anyways no thoughts just mr. afton eating it from the back.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎ stuck and fucked trope, oral sex (f receiving), knifeplay, knife fucking (insp by this post!), the usual perverted afton, death threats, dub con, slight daddy kink

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity @iikyutee @kissingrhi @jen-parker @kathxstuff @papyrus-the-poet @lowballbread @cecelovesbooks @bluebearieally @cybunii @van-van @iamunabletothinkofablogname @1ncidentdropout @ice-echo26 @officially-a-simp13 @all4kura @el-sol-sale-de-nuevo @littlexstarlightx @samlow23

synopsis ✧.*‎ while trying to escape the damn haunted pizzeria after a murderous rabbit comes after you, you stupidly try to leave through the vent, only to get stuck.

helpless (w. afton x reader)

you're running through the maze of halls as fast as your legs can carry you. what you're running from, exactly? some fuckhead in a rabbit suit with a knife, menacingly advancing towards you, with a cold, evil laughter reminiscent of a typical villain. there's no doubt in your mind he's set on killing you, and you can't help but feel like this position was a setup for that anyways. it would make sense why the average security guard stays no longer than a work-week.

you're headed to your office, the only place with a quick, sure-fire exit that leads directly outside the building: the vents. then you'll make a run for it to your car. it was an ambitious plan, yes, but it had to work. it was the only option you had, after all, given that the rabbit came from the normal exit.

you swing the door to the security office wide open and slam it shut behind you, cringing at the loud clang it makes when it hits the door hinges. the last thing you want is to alert that rabbit of your whereabouts. you instantly crouch down in front of the vent and unscrew it frantically with your fingers. when it breaks loose you crawl inside. the front half of your body works its way inside just fine. the bottom half of you? fuck.

it gets stuck half way around your hips, leaving no room to wriggle in or out. you were stuck. really fucking stuck. this couldn't be happening. panic washes over you in waves and you feel your sweat break out even worse. you slide your hands forward, desperate to move forward, but it doesn't help. tears form in your eyes. i'm going to die, you think, in the most humiliating position possible.

right on cue, there's a banging on the door. there's no doubt in your mind it's that fucking rabbit. in no time, the door busts open, slamming against the nearby desk in a loud bang. "there you are — oh. what's this?"

you let out a whimper in fear as you hear him shuffle towards you and bend down close by your body. you hear a shifting for a long period of time, and then his voice sounds much clearer. you realize that it was just a costume, different from the sentient animatronics you've been desperately trying to keep out of your office the past four nights. "i was planning to gut you... but i have a much better idea."

suddenly, a large hand rests on your ass, groping. you gulp, realizing his the implications of his touch. "what should i do with you, hm?" the man contemplates out loud. he pulls his hand away only to smack your ass, making you cry out and wiggle your hips automatically.

"what a whore. enjoying being at my disposal, knowing i could fucking kill you at any moment now," he spits at you. fuck, the heat at your core is becoming more and more noticeable the more he talks in that gruff voice of his threateningly. you scared, really fucking scared, and that somehow made this situation hotter.

his hand leaves your ass, then there's the sound of something metallic being picked up off the floor. "i wouldn't move if i were you," the man muses, "'less you want your sweet little body sliced open." before you can process what he said, he brings something to the seam of your pants and it slices through. your eyes widen and you shriek when you realize it's a blade.

you flatten your hands against the cool metal of the vent, already warming up with your sweat and prolonged stay there. it's even harder not to move when you're scared as fuck and can't grip onto anything. he stops once he's satisfied with the way he cut through your pants, and fuck, how will you get out of here with split pants? if you even make it out of here.

with unbelievable strength, he sticks both his hands inside the slit he made, runs the tips of his fingers teasingly along the center of your panties, before ripping the fabric of your pants even wider. when the sound of the fabric coming apart hits your ears, tears burn at your eyes from the shame of thinking about leaving like this. "beautiful," he comments, "what a fucking sight you make."

you blush at his words. he reaches forward to thumb at you through your panties. he prods his thumb at your hole, dipping in the fabric of your panties inside. you can't help but moan quietly. much to your dismay, he notices with a low chuckle. "like i said, absolute whore." you whimper at that. absolute whore. a tear slips down your face.

you forget all about that when he leans forward and presses a kiss to your panties. he lewdly inhales your scent, rubbing his nose against your panties before pressing another kiss there. fuck. you're whimpering uncontrollably. he's such a pervert; you should be embarrassed, but in your undeniable sex-craving haze, all you want him to do is pull your panties to the side and ravage you.

like you manifested it or something, he does just that. except he stretches your panties and the blade returns, slicing through the useless fabric. he lets out a low whistle at your supposedly shiny slick. "just as i thought. needy little slut, so desperate for daddy's touch."

"mhm," you murmur, resting your head down on your hands. you're so fucking horny at this point, that you want to be at the mercy of your captor.

"mhm," he parrots back to you. his face moves forward to slowly lick a stripe up your cunt.

"oh fuck," you mumble, shaking. he repeats the action, laughing slightly at your reaction while doing so. his hands come forward to part your lips, diving in fully. he shakes his face against your cunt and you feel the tickling sensation of a beard there, making you jolt.

the obscene noises he makes add to your wetness. he slurps around, suctioning his lips all over. he leaves no place untouched. he quickly smacks kisses against your clit before tongue-fucking your sobbing hole. he flicks his insanely long and tongue inside of you. you're crying and babbling incoherent words as he tortures you.

you're so close already. the way he alternates between sucking your bud into his mothing and then fucking into your hole is too much. thinking about the fact that you're completely at his mercy, nothing to grip on to, clawing desperately at the metal of the vent, practically tips you over the edge alone. just as you feel the pulse of your cunt quicken—

it's all over too soon. he removes his tongue and you cry out into the vent frustratingly, ignoring the way your voice bounces off the walls. he rests his head against your ass and listens to you sob and then coos, "aww, poor baby. i almost feel bad."

"please," you cry softly, tears running down your face.

"gonna have to be more specific, sweet thing, 'm not a mind reader, y'know." but you can't. you can't bring yourself to say you want him to fucking smother his face in your cunt. it's too embarrassing to utter, even after you shamelessly backed into his face.

he clicks his tongue. "no? well, that's a shame. if you can't say it, guess i'll just do whatever i want with you."

before you can question what the hell that means, something is shoved inside of you. not his cock, much to your dismay, but something blunt, something that stretches you out. you realize, the only thing it could possibly be, that fucking knife.

he slides it in and out, laughing at your reactions. fuck, he's so fucking cruel. your fear only adds to your arousal, and you're soaking the stick of his knife. you hate to admit it, but this probably the second best thing to his cock.

before you know it, you're drenching his knife with your orgasm. you cry out desperately into the vent. the way it echoes into the cavern is music to his ears. you slam your hands against the vent and shake uncontrollably. he slowly pulls the knife away, intentionally torturing you as you hiccup in sobs. you're fucked out already, in a state of absolute post-sex haze.

he presses a surprisingly soft kiss against one globe of your ass and rubs on it. as you calm down, he's cooing at you again, whispering about how you're such a good girl for him, did so well.

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut #🕷️. — 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 #🕷️. — 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒

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sophswritingthings · 5 months

Note

Mizu x Fem!Apothecary! Reader who is also her wife and she is bandaging up mizu after the fight in shindo dojo

pairing: mizu x apothecary!fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of blood/injury, swearing

a/n: YOUR MIND MY FRIEND. also that sceneeeeee….. 😳

summary: you've been staying at your shop, somewhere warm, somewhere safe. that’s when mizu stumbles in, your wife, battered and bloodied.

word count, 751 words / 4,109 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you were humming, softly, tapping your fingers to the beat of the music in your mind. you were mindlessly cooking something for yourself, between mixing up medicines and herbs.

everything was quiet; serene and simple.

you had settled down to eat, with a small cup of sake beside your table. you took one small sip, before the door to your shop burst open.

you flipped around, scared out of instinct.

but then.. there was mizu, your muscles relaxing. your wife—your lovely samurai wife who always managed to get herself into some kind of trouble.

and that much was true; because there she was, covered in blood, some of which you could assume wasn’t hers—with a deep gash on her shoulder.

you swiftly collected yourself, walking over to help her inside. you settled her against the wall, pressing your door shut to keep the warmth inside. you settled in front of her, gazing her up and down.

you removed her hat and glasses, placing them to the side to see those beautiful eyes you loved so much. with a soft smile, you placed a soft kiss on her lips, pulling back with narrowed eyes.

“what did you do?” you hiss, “you need to be more goddamn careful, mizu, or were seriously going to have a problem.”

“It was a simple duel, (y/n), I'll live,” she narrowed her eyes back.

“yet here you are, covered in blood.” you pulled yourself to your feet, collecting mixes of herbs. as well as a needle and thread, which you kept on hand, in case things like this happened.

“most of it isn’t mine, my love,” the faintest hint of a smirk crossed her lips. you roll your eyes, settling down beside your wife.

“I assumed as much, darling.” you grumble, pulling off her overcoat. you pull down the corner of her undershirt to reveal the deep wound nestled on her right shoulder. “did you at the very least get what you were looking for?”

she nods, adverting her gaze from the wound. “I have,” her voice is rather soft, like it always is with you. though it’s still raspy, and masculine, keeping up her appearance. “I will leave tomorrow to find him.”

“you act as if I am not coming with you,” you narrow your eyes again, dabbing a poultice to her wound. mizu hisses, the stinging pain causing her eyebrows to furrow.

“because you won’t be,” her gaze flicks to you, resting on your slim, brown eyes. “you must stay here, and stay safe.”

“no,” you finish cleaning her wound, turning to grab your needle and thread. you gently begin to thread the needle in her skin, “I’m not going to stay here while you're miles on miles away from me, doing who-fucking knows what. probably getting yourself killed—“

“listen,” she placed a hand on your cheek, turning your head to look at her. “I cannot take the chances that you will have even a hair on your head hurt. i will live, (y/n), and finish my task. that or be given death, so be it.”

“you cannot..” your words trail off, “you can’t do that to yourself, mizu. please, think about taking me with you.. if you are to die I want to die with you.”

she shakes her head, “I will not let you throw away the rest of your life because I am gone,” she hissed. “stay here, please, my love.”

you press your forehead to hers, shaking your head with tears in your eyes.

“I-I can’t, mizu, I can’t,” you stumble with your words. “I-I love you. take me with you, please.”

mizu searches your expression, wiping the tears from your eyes. she ponders on it for a moment; you weren’t going to back down until she agreed, she knew you. your determination is why she loved you so very much, why she married you.

“okay,” she finally conceded, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “okay. you—you can come.”

“r-really?” you sniffled, your eyes wide. you had basically forgot about stitching her up.

“I would not lie to you,” she hissed. “but you're going to listen to me. if I tell you to run, to leave me, you will. alright?”

you sigh, finishing stitching up her wound. “alright,” you whisper begrudgingly.

she pressed another kiss to your forehead, allowing you to finish stitching her up.

“I love you.” she whispered, her blue eyes locked onto yours.

you smiled softly, returning her kiss on her cheek. “I love you, too, my darling.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: it’s short but I enjoyed writing it <33

#mizu x reader #mizu #blue eyed samurai #new fic #fic #fanfic #fic request #request #ask #asked and answered

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jhkfan123 · 3 months

Text

because i liked a boy | tom blyth

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

in which: tom rushes to your house after you get threats and insults online due to speculations of a relationship between the two of you

warnings: mentions and readings of death threats, mentions of slut shaming

wc: 1.1k (sorry it's a little short!)

a/n: IT'S MY POOKIE WOOKIE DOOKIE COOKIE SHMOOPIE TOM'S BIRTHDAY! no but seriously happy birthday tom! bros birthday is approximately ONE week from mine. bro's a little aquarius like me. thank you so much for being the best tom! the age gap grows more everyday 🥰...anyway here is a little cute fic for you guys just for his bday!

in less than 24 hours they were everywhere. in your dm's, in tagged posts, on every platform.

it was only yesterday that you and tom decided to go out in public together. for the first time. and now you realized maybe it should be your last, for a while anyway.

the two of you kept a quiet relationship for about a month, up until yesterday, when you decided going out for coffee might be nice. and sure enough, there were cameras.

first fan accounts found it. then smaller celebrity news accounts found it. then e! news found it. soon variety found it. this had all happened while you were asleep. and when you woke up, it wasn't just the posts that you found. you had dm's. lots of them. each one a little worse than the one before it.

you weren't sure what to do. so you picked up your phone and dialed tom.

the phone rung for what felt like ages. then you finally heard the comforting voice you had been longing for.

"hello?" you heard. you felt a little lighter already.

"hi tom. look, i know you're not really on social media but, i just really need you to come over because i need to talk to you." you breathed heavily getting the sentence out as you now began to panic.

"i'll be there in ten minutes. love you." you heard. he hung up the phone. you sat down on the couch in your apartment. you had an urge to go on your phone, but you knew what awaited you. so you resisted.

about ten minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. right on time.

he only knocked out of politeness, he had a key to your unit. "oh, good you're here." you said. he looked at you with a warm smile.

"i came as fast as possible." he came over to the couch and pressed a kiss to your forehead. he sat down next to you and you embraced his warmth. "now, what's wrong." he said. you leaned into his lap.

"so, remember how we went out for coffee yesterday?" you asked. he nodded quickly. "so obviously there were photos which is fine and we expected that but, once people really started noticing, i started getting...threats." you handed him your phone which was now open to your instagram dm's.

"oh, no." he sighed with sadness. "i'm so sorry. do you mind if i look?" he asked. you nodded again. he took your phone from your hand and began to scroll. you saw the screen and began to read along.

user: who tf are you back tf off you slut

_user_: didn't you just break up with your other boyfriend you whore chill share him with us

user123: if you don't back off i'm going to jump you. mwah

tomblythlover: if you hurt him you die

each one got progressively worse. you saw tom's face shift with each one. he pulled you closer to him as he handed your phone back to you. you felt a single tear stream down your face, which tom immediately noticed.

"hey, hey hey." he wiped your tear with his thumb. "you didn't do anything wrong, ok? ignore every single one. you are not a slut, not a whore, not anything they claim you are. and, there is nothing you can do to stop these people. you just have to ignore it." he pulled you closer and tighter to him. "turn your dm's off. or limit them at least." he suggested. "get off social media. take a walk." he kept listing out ideas.

"you're right. i didn't even think of that, turning my dm's off." you said. you went into your settings and turned it off.

"what would you do without me." he joked, sarcastically. you hit him in his leg, the only place you could reach. you smiled up at him.

"i can't believe people would do this." you spoke. it was unbelievable. how could you say something like that to someone you don't even know?

"i can. people are crazy online. they stay stuff that they wouldn't ever say to your face. that's why i stay off of it." he responded.

"should i like, put a statement out?" you questioned. you often looked up to tom for advice about these things. he was only a year older than you, well, almost two, but he seemed much wiser. you loved the way you could look to him for anything.

"only if you want to, love." he assured you. "but if you think it will help you, then do it. do it for yourself, not for others." he continued.

"maybe i should. i will." you opened your story camera and began to type. you thought about what you wanted to say. then your mind drew a blank. "what should i say?" you asked, staring blankly at your screen.

"just say that no one is allowed to insult you just because we're dating, and that you need time to figure out what you are going to do next." he said. he thought of solutions with such ease, taking no time to think. ideas flowed like water out of his mouth. when you finished, you showed it to him, and with his approval, you added it to your story.

even though your dm's were turned off, you still hoped that people would stop attacking you in tagged posts, something that you couldn't stop no matter what.

"thank you, tom, for being here. i'd probably be lying in bed crying right now if it wasn't for you." he smiled down at you.

"i'll always put you first. i don't care what i'm doing. never be afraid to call me, even if i'm busy ok? i promise i'll help, any way i can. and please don't take anything they said to heart. you aren't any of those things, the only thing they got right is that you are my girlfriend." that made you laugh. "now, let's go do something to lift your mood." he pulled himself off the couch and soon helped you up as well. "where do you want to go?" he asked. you thought for a moment. you wanted to be somewhere quiet. with tom.

"i think just a walk around the neighborhood would be nice. no photos, no phones, just us?" you suggested.

"that's the best idea i've ever heard." he hugged you close. then he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss. he grabbed his keys from the entryway table, grabbed your hand, and walked out the door.

#jhkfan123 #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tomblyth #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #HAPPY BIRTHDAY POOKIE #29 AND STILL FINE #coriolanus snow #because i liked a boy #hungergames #snow lands on top #tbosas #hunger games

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twisted-tales-of-all · 6 months

Text

First and Last Dance

Summary: After dying, you refuse to follow your reaper into the afterlife before experiencing what sex feels like. Pairing: Park Seonghwa x afab!Reader Genre: Smut, Horror, One-Shot Tropes: virgin!reader, grim reaper!AU, first and last time Word Count: 2.4K Contains: mild corruption kink, mentions of alcohol and drugs, discussion of dying in a fire, waking up disoriented, memory loss, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, love, baby girl, sir), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), marking, praise, multiple orgasms, fingering (f. receiving)

"Ugh," you groan as you wake up, gripping your head tight thanks to your hangover. "Fuck, did I really do that much last night?"

Looking around with squinting eyes, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. The dark grey walls and black-out curtains certainly help your headache, but you can't remember how you got here or where here even is.

The creak of the door draws your attention. In walks a beautiful man with hair like raven feathers and an outfit matching the dark room. Quickly, your brain runs through an empty shelf of memories, trying to figure out whether you did something with this gorgeous man and forgot. Patting your body, you find all your clothes on your body, but not quite intact. Noticing holes in the fabric, you push down the covers to figure out the damage. Strangely, you find scorch marks all over your shirt - a burned hem cutting its original length, small holes with blackened edges from sparks flying onto the flammable fabric, even a full sleeve missing.

Before you can ask about the night prior, the stranger speaks, "You probably don't remember. That tends to happen." He pulls a chair closer to the bed, sitting back and relaxing. As if running on a script, he rallies off information, "Last night, you were at a party. An accident happened, where someone dropped a lit cigarette into some spilled alcohol. Not very many people survived, as the alcohol fire spread quickly and most of the party goers were impaired by the various drugs and alcoholic drinks."

A fire? You remember everyone's screams shifting from excited to terrified, but can't remember the flames themselves. With that big of a disaster, you wouldn't have expected to forget, even under the influence.

"At least I made it out safe."

"You didn't, Y/N." The man reveals with a look of boredom on his face, "That's why I'm here. My name is Seonghwa, and I'm a reaper. It is my job to collect the newly deceased and lead you into the afterlife."

"No."

Finally showing emotion in his reaction, Seonghwa doesn't know what to say, frozen in shock. Nobody has outright denied him like this. They've fought, cried, cursed him, and even struck him, but nobody has had your composure to simply say no.

"I can't die yet. I haven't done so many things. I've barely even hugged people I found attractive. What about my first kiss, my first time? Or traveling with someone I love? I can't die when I haven't done any of that. Send me back."

There it is. A line Seonghwa's heard time and time again. But this time, it's framed differently. No first kiss? Seonghwa empathizes with you, as a reaper who often wonders of the joys of living. Reapers, of course, weren't granted that chance; forged by the gods of death with the sole purpose of easing their jobs, reapers often face a tedious, repetitive life. Most were okay with it, as that is all they ever knew, but everyone hears stories of those driven crazy after too many interactions with humans.

"I cannot send you back. You're already dead, and that's out of my powers. I simply lead you to the proper afterlife."

Your posture drops as he explains this. All you ever wanted was a sweet love story in your life, and now it won't happen. Despite this, your urge to at least try something still rages within you. So much so that you don't even try to stop yourself from asking Seonghwa a desperate question.

"Could you show me what love is like? Or at least let me feel what it's like to kiss and touch someone?"

Caught off guard by the unexpected request, Seonghwa forgets his words for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly. You look at him, anticipating his answer and hoping he'll give in.

"You want to kiss me? To touch me?"

"Why not? You have a pretty face, a nice voice, and probably a body sculpted by gods. Why wouldn't I? You seem nice, too."

Something in the naivety of your words pulls at him. Urges he didn't know he held surface as you pout at him, and he can't stop himself from wanting to show you everything he can before leading you to your final resting place. Here, in the confines of these smoke-colored walls where time stands still and everything lies in limbo, Seonghwa breaks his personal protocol to indulge in something dark bubbling inside him. Without saying another word, he pushes himself off the chair and kisses you. He moves so fast that you can't catch your breath before his lips are mingling roughly with yours. Your hands find their way to his chest while his snake behind you, one on your upper back and the other resting on your hip.

He brings you closer, tightening the gap. As you both pant out in breaks from the sloppy kiss, your body heats up. Although you're certain you can't be kissing very well based on how much more work he's doing, he doesn't seem to pay it any mind. His luscious lips overtake yours with ease, you feel every movement amplified. The moment his cold hands slide under the remaining fabric covering you, it feels so enticing against your hot body, cooling your back down with a simple touch. Slowly, you find him guiding you to lie on the bed. He hovers above you, looking down on you as he appreciates the look on your face - a look begging for more but not knowing what that might entail; a mix of fear and longing.

Your innocence spurs him on more than he thought possible; even just seeing you looking at him and trying to steady your breathing drives him insane. His usually loose pants much more snug thanks to his erection, Seonghwa refuses to hold himself back. With a quick swipe of his hand, your shirt rips apart, revealing your bare stomach and beautifully adorned chest. With a deep growl and another swipe, your pants fall to the sides of your legs, leaving you lying under him in your matching bra and panty set.

"What a wonderful color on you." His hand lingers on your waist as he admires how well the color of your underwear suits your skin tone, "I almost don't want to rip it off of you. Almost."

Leaning in, Seonghwa leaves kisses all over your uncovered body, marking you in places he knows will feel best for you - under your ear, along your collarbone, on both hips, right above the covered portion of your chest. Although his kisses are soft, his marks turn aggressive as he sucks hard and even bites down on some spots.

Along with the rough marking, his hands make quick work of the little remaining fabric on your body. When his lips reach fabric, he quickly works to remove it. Unlike before, he takes care not to rip apart your undergarments, bringing a temporary sense of kindness to his actions. Unbeknownst to you, he's careful with them so he can hold onto them after you leave him - a souvenir of sorts. That kindness doesn't last long, not when your naked body is on full display for him. Looking down at you, he can feel himself salivate at your inexperience as it leaves you slightly covering yourself in nervousness. His eyes darken before he moves further down the bed, spreading your legs to place his face snuggly between them.

"Y-You don't have to-"

"Sweetheart," he growls as he peeks up at you, "What fun would it be if I didn't show you everything?"

Kissing and nibbling the skin on your inner thigh, his silky black hair prickles against your other leg. The closeness of the sensations to your throbbing core makes you squirm involuntarily. Feeling him chuckle against your thigh, your hands fly to your face as it heats up from the embarrassment. After giving both thighs plenty of attention, he centers himself, proud to see you soaking already. Running a finger through your folds, he uses your arousal to coat his fingers before sliding them inside you, one at a time. At the first insertion, your body tenses in response to the newfound sensation. You expected that you'd feel similar to when you do it, but the angle, the size, the speed - everything feels so different. He moves the finger in and out before adding his second one, stretching your tense body out some more.

He kisses your thigh as his fingers curl inside of you, "Relax, sweetheart. Believe me, it'll feel so much better when you untense yourself. Breathe. Enjoy it."

At his coaxing, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Letting yourself relax, you notice the knots in your body fading, replaced with the intense warmth of your core and the slow, intoxicating movement of his fingers inside you. Noticing this, Seonghwa leans in, swirling his tongue around your folds and quickly finding your clit. He's careful and calculated in his movements here, not wanting to overwhelm you just yet. But he knows exactly how to work you up, and you feel something build inside you. You recognize this feeling and let your hips grind against him as you chase after the high you desire. He flattens his tongue against your clit, the roughness and pressure sending you over the edge. He continues curling his fingers perfectly inside you as you ride through your orgasm, the feeling rippling through you.

Slowly removing his fingers from you, you wince at the emptiness, but he caresses your cheek and shushes you as he lifts himself again. Dragging his shirt over his head, you gawk at his torso. He's slim but well-built. Not quite six-pack well, but the soft lines running down his abs look better without the added dimension. You lift your hand to drag your fingertips over his body, but he's too busy tearing his pants down to give you a chance. Your gaze drops as he moves, drawn to his cock standing tall and proud. You were right - he's definitely sculpted by gods, and whoever made him needed to be worshipped even more. How could a dick be good-looking? Everything you'd seen before was not for looking, but his looked delicious, curving upward slightly and built to spread someone open in the best ways.

While you're busy gawking at him, he climbs above you again. Grabbing your jaw roughly and forcing your gaze back to his face, he smirks.

"My face is up here, love. What could possibly be better to look at than this face?"

Crashing his lips against yours again, he doesn't need to hear an answer. Holding himself up with one arm, he moves a hand between his legs. Grabbing himself, he coats his length in your fluids by rubbing himself between your folds. The small touches leave you begging for more as he pulls his lips off of yours.

"Please... I need it."

"Oh? You need it? What a gorgeous sentence to fall from your breathless lips. Well, let me oblige."

Lining his tip up with your entrance, he slowly pushes in, stretching you out even with such a small amount. Growling with a clenched jaw, he manages to keep his pace despite wanting to bury himself entirely inside you. After a painfully long wait, he bottoms out inside of you. His length brings tears to your eyes, but they don't overflow. The burning stretch shifts away after a while, but your breath remains caught in your throat.

Pecking your lips and rubbing your cheek with his knuckles, he praises you, "You're doing so well. You can take all of me. Good job, baby girl. Let me know when you're ready."

His kind words calm you down, allowing your breathing to return to you. when the burn fades completely and your body adjusts to his size, you wiggle a bit, urging movement.

"Use your words, sweetheart. Are you ready?"

"Yessir. Please move."

Once again, your innocence feeds his urge to ruin you entirely. With your sweet voice and naivety of what it'll feel like when he moves, he throws out his plan to ease you into everything. Pulling back slowly, he slams into you, his hips hitting your thighs on impact. He keeps going at this pace, roughly slamming into you again and again. Your eyes roll back into your head and your mouth falls open, noises messily leaving your lips as your brain muddles. His hands grip your thighs, fingernails digging into your flesh as he uses his grip to pull you into him. Filling the room with the sounds of sex, Seonghwa's head falls back for a moment as he enjoys the feeling of your warmth enveloping him.

"Seonghwa," his name falls softly from your lips, "I'm gonna-"

Unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm crashes upon you, Seonghwa groans at the sensation of you finishing around him. He picks up his pace, sloppily pounding into you as he chases his own high. Leaning forward into you, his head falls into the crook of your neck, teeth gripping onto your skin as he finishes inside you. Feeling the warm liquid shooting into you, you feel strangely complete, as if all you needed to feel alive again was a grim reaper's cum.

As Seonghwa lies on top of you, your collective pants now the only sounds in the small room, you thank him for obliging in your silly request. The embarrassment of begging a total stranger to take your virginity finally hits you, so you add a small apology at the end.

Brushing your hair with his fingertips, he replies, "Don't apologize. Thank you for letting me be your experience, it awakened and quelled a desire I didn't realize I had."

"'Your experience,' that's funny. Since it's my first and last, right? You'll be all I know." You poke fun at the situation in front of you, trying to relieve the nerves slowly gathering about the afterlife.

"Good." He growls out deeply. "Keep it that way. It makes me so happy knowing that you really are all mine."

Tags: @dimpledsatan-recs @mo0nbeams

#cultofdionysusnet #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut

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thebelovedmuse · 1 year

Note

Hello hello, friend >:)

Wally Darling x Reader Scared of the Dark!

Maybe this reader is usually a tough dude and isn’t expected to have fears.

So maybe a little self conscious ;)

Either way! Hope ya like this one!!

You're so excited because today is your first sleep over at Home! After a fun-filled evening hanging out with Wally you both change into your pajamas and you get set up on the couch. "Goodnight, Y/N!" Wally says before heading to his room. You give him a smile and watch him close the bedroom door and then it happens. The lights go out. You don't like to admit it but you hate being in the dark, and man is this place dark. You can't even see your hands in front of your face and you start to panic feeling like you're in an endless void. Then you start hearing creaks and thumps and you're pretty sure you're going to die from fear if whatever monsters in the dark don't get to you first.

To your relief you see a glow of light suddenly appear from under the door of Wally's room. The door opens and Wally steps out, "Y/N, are you ok?" Wally sees that you have the blanket pulled up covering half your face at this point, which you quickly drop back into your lap. You feel embarrassed and try to play it off, "I'm all good Wally! Just trying to fall asleep!" He glances down to your hand which is still death-gripping the blanket and then back to you.

"You know Neighbor, if you're uncomfortable you can tell me. Would you feel better sleeping in bed with me?" You feel yourself start to blush, not sure if its from embarrassment or the thought of sharing a bed with Wally. You hope in this dim light he doesn't notice. "Um, sure," you say, standing up and following Wally back to his room. You climb into his bed and get under the soft covers, your head laying on the big fluffy pillows. You notice Wally slip his arm under yours as it wraps around your waist. "Goodnight..." you hear Wally whisper as you feel his warm breath against your ear. The lights go out once again but this time is different, you no longer feel afraid as you sense the warmth from Wally wrapped around you and you quickly drift off to sleep.

#wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home wally #welcome home arg #fanfic #welcome home x reader

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sanjifucker42069 · 7 months

Text

Peaches

Sanji keeps finding you sneaking food. Just what are you hiding?

Note; girl, rats are cute, and Sanji’s association with rats melts my heart 🥺🥺🥺

Word count: 1416

The third time Sanji caught you sneaking food out of the larder is when he grew suspicious.

"Do I not feed you enough love?" He interrogated, You jumped, hands holding onto your small bag. It had to be past midnight. You turned to him looking mildly terrified, eyes scanning for an exit plan. Sanji quirked a perfect brow when you didn't respond. "Well?"

Nothing. You drew close the bag in your hands, peeking in one last time. You seemed so skittish tonight. What were you hiding? Sanji didn't have time to consider what before you shot upright, speaking a mile a minute.

"HAHAHA! I'm sorry Sanji, you got me! I was feeling extra peckish tonight HAHAHA!" You slapped at your leg as if he told you the world's funniest joke, before robotically moving to the door. "Well I've had my fill so I'll just be going back to bed. It won't happen again. Good night Sanji."

"Hold it." He ordered. You froze, a visible sweat on your brow. You let out a little whimper. He softened, and with a sigh, motioned to the table. With palpable dejection, you made your way to the table, ready to be scolded. "Love, you know I keep a thorough inventory of our food. Normally I'd think you were giving it to Luffy, but there's hardly any food going missing. So what's going on?"

You twiddled with your thumbs. "I was just a little hungry." You were still avoiding his gaze. Sanji wasn't convinced.

"Love, I'm not going to be mad."

"Yeah you are..." Your voice was soft, trailing off. Sanji sighed, pulling out a smoke and hurriedly lighting it. He took a long drag to calm himself. Why would you ever think he'd be mad at you? He honestly felt a little heartbroken that you didn't trust him.

"Love-"

Squeak.

You flustered. Sanji narrowed his eyes, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"What was that?"

"My stomach?" You tried, clearly nervous.

"Try again."

You sighed, bringing the bag up to rest on the table. He saw you fiddle with the drawstring. Upon hearing you hum, he stared, seeing you looking at him through lidded eyes. "Promise not to be mad?"

Yeah yeah whatever to get you to stop breaking his heart with those puppy eyes, he thought. Instead he said, "I could never be, love."

You undid the drawstring. Opening the bag another squeak rang out, echoing in the silent kitchen. You cringed. For a few seconds nothing happened, and Sanji could feel himself growing antsy. Then, a small grey head popped up, whiskers twitching.

A rat!!?!?!

"Her name is Peaches." You muttered. Sanji was shocked, staring at the little creature before him. 'Peaches' seemed to stare back at him, holding her dainty paws in front of her as she rose to two feet. Sanji noted the small yellow ribbon adorning her. And, was that a tiny bandage around her ankle?

"Huh." He mused, taking a drag. As he blew another plume of smoke, the rat squeaked.

"I'm sorry Sanji. I knew you'd be mad if you found out we had rats, but I swear it's only Peaches, I found her on the ship last week. She had a bad ankle. I saw her crawl onto the ship from the docks. Normally I'd put her back but she was hurting and....I just couldn't leave her there to die."

Peaches moved closer to Sanji, staring at him. If Sanji fed into his delusions he could swear the rat was studying him.

"She's clean I promise!" You cringed at how loud you were. Moving to a quieter tone you looked at Peaches. "She had a bath. She's actually really chill."

"So she's why you're sneaking morsels?"

You nodded. He sighed. Sanji weirdly felt his heart swell. You'd save a little rat on death's door? You were a pirate. Your gentleness always stood out to him, but the way you pet the little rat, cooing at it had him feel his heart race. You reached out and grabbed his hands. He stared at the gesture, cigarette hanging from his mouth limply. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours, startled at how determined you look.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop sneaking food. But I won't get rid of Peaches." You shook his hands for emphasis. "I promise she won't come into the kitchen! Just...please don't tell anyone."

"You want her around? Even if I don't?" He asked. You met him with a fiery stare.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. But yeah... You're dear to me, but this little creature deserves empathy too, and she's not hurting anyone." Peaches squeaked as if to back up your claim.

Out of all the scenarios, you didn't expect Sanji to give you that soft smile and remove a hand. You watched with bated breath as he instead set his sights on Peaches, holding his hand out.

Peaches sniffed his hand experimentally. Clearly she judged him to be safe, as she crawled into his hand. Your heart stopped at how soft Sanji looked. He spoke around the cigarette, staring down at the little rat.

"You're too sweet." His eyes flicked up to yours. "It doesn't worry me. So long as she isn't a nuisance in the kitchen, it really doesn't matter to me. It's sweet that you are so dedicated to her." Peaches crawled up Sanji's arm, settling on his shoulder. He gave a lopsided smile. Sanji removed the cigarette from his mouth. "She's cute. Y'know some of the first meals I ever made were for rats."

You stared at him. "Really?"

He laughed, a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, they're cute, and they're not picky eaters...but let's not talk about that" He peeked towards Peaches. "So what's your favourite then, miss?"

When Sanji looked back at you he was stunned at how wide your smile was, tears in your eyes. "She likes cake, it's not good for her. She does like apples though."

"Apples?" He laughed, disbelief clear in his tone. "Not Peaches?"

You blushed. Sanji felt his heart skip a beat at your blush. "Oh. There was a book I read as a kid, it had a rat named Peaches."

"Hmm, an apple cake then? I'll make you one when you're better Peaches to celebrate, okay?" He reached back over and grabbed your hand. You stared into his eyes, their soft warmth drawing you in. "Love, you're too nice, y'know? I don't know any other pirate who'd cry over a rat." You started to bluster but he shushed you. "It's not a bad thing. You're a good person."

Sanji went to take a drag from his cigarette when he felt tiny hands snatch it from his grasp. He gasped, offended. The two of you watched as the little rat skittered down Sanji's arm, cigarette bitten sideways.

"Peaches!" You scolded. Peaches pointedly avoided you, taking the cigarette back into both hands and stubbing it out. You laughed. "Oh Sanji, I'm so sorry. I guess she doesn't like smoke!"

Sanji joined in, laughing freely. "Guess not. Lucky she's cute. You too." You felt your blush darken. Sanji rose to his feet, giving you a wink. "How 'bout some tea? Maybe something for the little one too, yeah?"

You nodded, heart missing a beat at ‘little one’. Sanji rounded the table, pulling you into a side hug. You felt him place a featherlight kiss on your hair. As quick as it started it stopped, and the man headed to the kitchen. The domesticity was killing you. Peaches gave you a pointed look. You stuck your tongue out at her.

"Sanji?" You asked quietly. The man hummed in response, placing the kettle on to boil. "Thank you. You're a good man."

Sanji smiled. "You're too kind, love."

You rose to join the man, quickly glueing yourself to his side. Sanji welcomed you in, arm wrapping around your shoulder. You snuggled into his side. The two of you basking in each other. You pulled his tie lightly coaxing him to your level. With a smile, you kissed his cheek gently. Sanii blushed lightly, stunned by your actions. Behind you the kettle whistled. The two of you sharing the same thought:

I could get used to this.

And so the three of you settled in for a late night, an odd storybook tea party: a gentle chef with a hidden past, a sensitive pirate with a heart of gold, and a little rat with a dislike of smoke.

#sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #i actually formatted this one properly lmao #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #i couldnt help myself i had to post this one too ;-; promise ill spread em out more from now #fluff #ill go back and format good boy properly in the morning its 5am rn lmaooooooo

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