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kdogreads · 8 months

Text

Stress Relief

Carmen Berzatto x f!reader

TW: piv, SOFTY SOFT SMUT, but smut nonetheless — minors DNI I swear, fluffy sweet talk, so many pet names, cursing bc it’s Carmy, size kink and praise kink

AN: This is my first Carmy fic 🤤 Let me know what other shenanigans you want him and the reader to get up to 🤪🥰

The door slamming shut startled you out of your thoughts, jolting you away from the book you were previously lost in.

“Baby?” Carmy’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“In here,” You called back, sliding your make-shift bookmark - an old gas station receipt Carm emptied out of his pocket - in between the pages.

He turned the corner into your bedroom where he found you lounging comfortably on the bed. The stress was written all over his face. His brows pulled together as he ran a hand through his messy curls.

“Come here, baby,” You quickly slid down to the end of the bed, climbing onto your knees and opening your arms up, “What happened?”

Carmy let out a deep groan as he stepped into your embrace. He nuzzled his face into your neck, his hot breathe dancing over your cool skin.

“Long day,” He whispered as he peppered kisses onto your jaw, “Work with fuckin’ idiots.”

You hummed something halfway between a laugh and a moan as Carm sucked lightly on your clavicle. Your head fell back slightly as he started overtaking your senses.

“Need you, sweet girl,” Carmy groaned into your salty skin, “Need to feel you.”

He leaned into you, lips drifting up to clash into yours. His calloused hands slid under your thighs and pulled you down to lie on your back.

Carmy’s hands started clawing at your shirt, your shorts, your bra, anything he could reach.

He leaned away from you to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, and you used the quick break to slide your lounge shorts halfway down your thighs before Carmy pulled them completely off. The look in his eyes was mesmerizing, a combination of lust and need and anguish and excitement.

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your cheeks as he unbuttoned his jeans, flipping onto his back to slide them off along with his boxers.

In a matter of seconds, you were both fully naked and Carmy’s lips were making their way from your neck to the valley between your breasts to your stomach. Your breath hitched as he adjusted his position to wrap his thick arms around your thighs and breathed over your aching core.

“Fuck, I missed her today,” He growled, prodding experimentally at your already-dripping folds, “Missed you, pretty girl.” His lips connected with your inner thigh in such a way that made you jump, the anticipation practically seeping out of your pores.

“Take what you need from me, baby,” You purred reaching a hand down to grab into the curly mop on top of his head.

A devilish smile crept across his lips. Before you could react, Carmy’s tongue was slapping against your folds, moving from your weeping hole to your clit in a fast, repetitive pattern.

You couldn’t help but buck your hips up into his face as he kept up the punishing pace. Something between a chuckle and a grown vibrated from his lips and straight into your core, making your writhe against him even more.

“Oh, fuck, Carm,” You gasped, feeling the pressure build in your core, “pleasepleaseplease.”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, but Carmy always managed to figure it out. He reached around your shaking thigh just then and slid a thick finger into your clenching hole. You let out a whimpering “Carmyyyy” as he worked his digits in and out of you in rhythm with his tongue circling your swollen clit.

“That’s it, baby,” He growled into you, bringing you closer to the edge, “Come on, that’s right.”

He stretched a second finger into you and you were done for. The blinding bliss took over as you curled your toes and arched your back up off the bed. The hand in his hair clenched into a tight fist as the soft walls inside you spasmed frantically against his still-pumping fingers. You ground your center against his mouth involuntarily as he helped you ride out your high.

When the room finally stopped spinning, you looked down to see a grinning Carmy propped up on one elbow, just enjoying the view.

“Come here,” you breathed out and grabbed at his shoulders for him to meet your lips. He kissed you languidly, his face still covered in your slick.

“My girl,” He whispered into your lips before sliding backwards and pulling your legs along with him, “So beautiful.”

He positioned the two of you on the edge of the bed, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder. He gave himself a few strokes before nudging your clit with his swollen tip.

Your body jolts at the contact and a Carmy lets out a breathy laugh. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue circling your mouth before sinking all the way into your tight heat in one swift motion.

Carmen’s brows drew together as he grit his teeth, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back into to you.

“Fuck, Carm, fuck,” You moaned out loud, followed by a chorus of gasps each time he slammed his hips into you. The sound of skin slapping together and stifled groans echoed off the walls.

Carmy looked almost pained each time he slid his thick length in and out of you, his lips parted as he stares, mesmerized by the place where the two of you connect.

“You’re fucking killin’ me, baby,” He growled as he leaned in to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips, “Look so goddamn sexy takin’ my cock like that.”

You smiled sweetly with lust-blown eyes, and reached up to grab his thick curls in your trembling grasp.

Carmen snaked a hand between your rutting bodies and pressed just right on your clit, circling the swollen bundle with two slick fingers. A breathy gasp flies from your lips as pleasure burns through your veins, surprising you with its intensity.

You were lost in your pleasure for a long moment, writhing and whining under Carmy’s solid body. When you peeled your eyes back open, you could see the look of restraint written on his face, Carmy’s hips stuttering and breaking the pace for the first time.

“Please—please fill me up, Carm,” You panted as he slammed his hips into you, faster this time, “Please cum in me, baby.”

Carmen’s willpower gave out, growling and groaning as his whole body tensed up to release hot ropes of his seed into your fluttering walls.

Some combination of curse words and praises fell from his lips as he rode out his high, his hands clawing at your own.

“Fuck, baby—God you’re so fuckin’ perfect, shit—Ah.”

He stilled his movements as his gaze fluttered back to yours, pupils blown and sweat dripping from the curls stuck to his forehead.

“Jesus,” He breathed with a grin on his face, slowly settling his weight next to you on the bed, “I fuckin’ love you, baby.”

You laughed, still slightly out of breath as you snuggled onto Carmy’s chest, “You love me or you love my pussy?”

Carmen let out the most relaxed, full-bodied laugh you’d heard in a while before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Both,” He kissed your forehead sweetly, “But mostly you.”

You let out a cheeky Mmhhmmm and settled against his skin, happy to be able to relax in each other’s space for even a moment.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass before you feel Carmy shuffle a little under your embrace.

“Baby?” He whispers into your hair and you tilt your head up to meet his loving gaze, “You’re my favorite stress reliever by far.”

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #the bear #carmy x reader #kdogreads

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lovelyunholyc · 1 year

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heyo :)

what are your thoughts on nanami with a breeding kink lmao

why hello my dear, i'm so glad u asked 🤭

nsfw !! minors and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked !!

fem! reader, breeding kink, pregnancy mention but no actual pregnancy (yet?!), unprotected sex, creampie.

"more," you breathe, in spite of your lungs protesting, in spite of the way your heartbeat thuds so loudly in your ears you can hardly hear the faint, whispery little whines that escape you with every deep, intentional sweep of his hips.

"more?" nanami asks, his tone playful, cocking his head to the side in question as he pauses to brush away the damp hair sticking to your forehead with those long, elegant fingers. "you want more, darling?" he moves your legs over his shoulders, shuddering along with you when that shifts him into a different angle - a deeper, more precise one that nudges the tip of his dick right up against your sweetest spot, making you whine again. "can you take it? for me?" his voice grows more strained the longer he speaks, gasping as he tries to keep his composure when your walls are so snug and tight around him, when you're practically sucking him in, arching into his warmth and writhing against your bed in pure pleasure.

you're so wet it's been beyond obscene, the evidence of your arousal and his making a mess of you - it drips out of you from the countless times he's cum and made you cum, you've lost track of how many times at this point, especially with the way he always puts your pleasure above his. your thoughts are all muddled, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed in the best way, but you can't get enough, pulling and squeezing at him and deliriously begging for more, more, more, lost in ecstasy and the adoration you hold so deeply for him.

nanami is all too happy to comply, just as lost in his bliss, in the carnal, nearly animalistic need to fill you until you can take no more, to pleasure you until he's certain he is all you can see, feel, think about.

and nanami does not often consider himself a selfish man - he actively tries not to be, but above all else, you make it so incredibly difficult.

"yes, ken, p-please, i need you," you're whining, nearly begging, nodding your head desperately at his queries as he draws his hips back, slow and deliberate, just so you can feel every ridge and vein of him along your walls. he gets his desired effect, that sweet little gasp of yours, the tears glittering across your pretty eyes and leaking out of the corners like diamonds in the low light of your shared room. and when he glances down, the practically mouthwatering sight of your combined juices coating the base of his cock as he inches it out of your sweet cunt, the way it glistens on your skin.

for someone so meticulous, he sometimes still wonders why the mess of it, the inherent debauchery it symbolizes, fascinates him so.

he stops just before the head of his cock pops free, turns to press his lips across your knee over his shoulder, chuckles a little bit into your skin as he slowly - excruciatingly slowly - slides himself back into the velvet clutch of your walls. "need more, hm?" his voice is like honey, just the right amount of gruff at the edges from heat, desire, maybe exertion. it sends pleasant chills down your spine, your fingers searching blindly until you find his grasp and weave in between his own.

"i can give you more, my love," he murmurs, leaning in to mouth at your jaw, nipping lightly at your skin just as you gasp at how he slides home just like that, buried to the hilt in you once more. "everything i have, it's all yours."

you moan as he starts moving again, undulating his hips steadily, slowly building up your pleasure once more.

"anything you want," he's at the edge of your jaw, his breath tickling your ear, teeth picking at your lobe, "i'll give it to you." his voice is so deep and low now you think you can feel it thrum through your entire body.

even in your delirium you search for his lips, tilting towards him until he kisses you without question, letting go of your hand only to cradle your cheek as you open up for him, sucking on his tongue and moaning so sweetly.

nanami pulls away to get you to breathe, smirking a little at how insatiable you are, how lovely you look spread out underneath him, heart squeezing at how much you trust him with this most vulnerable part of you; it is never lost on him, and he thinks he'll be more than happy to worship you and your body for as long as you'll have him.

"ken," you pant, one hand on his cheek too, the other gliding down to rest just underneath your own stomach, where you tap lovingly, gifting him a weak, albeit mischievous little smile. "wanna feel you."

nanami groans from deep within his chest, marveling at how quickly and easily you can spark that inherently depraved instinct within him.

he falters for only a moment before his pace quickens, and he's pounding into you so ferociously, you're clawing at his back, barely coherent, tugging at him and whining encouragingly.

he had never been this selfish, not until he met you, not until you'd ripped his heart wide open. not until you'd given him everything you had, and asked for nothing in return, not until he'd attempted to give you the world, and all you wanted was him.

would it really be selfish, then, to give you what you'd asked so sweetly for? to fill you up, as much as you like, to shape you to his cock and paint your walls with his seed, until it drips onto your skin and your sheets and makes a mess of you like he's been doing for lord only knows how long now, to give it all to you until your belly's full of him, until you're full of him...?

and if you still wanted more of him, would it really be so selfish to fill you with his babies, to prop your hips up like that and make sure it takes, to make love to you every night until you're round with life, with his life, his and yours, and beyond that?

nanami leans in just to kiss you, just to swallow up your lovely little sounds and tell you how much he loves you, though you already know. he slides his hand between your bodies to rub mercilessly at your clit, nipping at your neck as your whole body writhes beneath him, follows each forceful thrust of his hips. he savors your broken cry of his name when you cum - he isn't sure which one this is, he can't be bothered to keep count, but you're just as beautiful each time, just as addicting to watch, to feel as your walls clench and flutter around him, and you lose yourself to this little slice of heaven only he can give you.

he digs his hips into yours until he can't, the tip of his cock shoved up against your cervix, and he can't hold it off any longer, he spills into you with a shudder and your name on his lips, your fingers in his hair and your heart against his ear.

he doesn't stop until he's spent, and undoubtedly sure he's fulfilled his promise of giving you everything he has.

in other words, yes.

and he doesn't realize he has it until you bring it up, and doesn't get super vocal about it until he's comfortable in your relationship, and you've actually talked about it and your future and whether or not you want a family because he's a respectful king and will always and has always taken precautions either way

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neverinadream · 5 months

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A "White" Christmas

Summary: With her parents visiting to celebrate the holidays early, Y/N finds herself cock blocked in her own home.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Wit It This Christmas - Ariana Grande

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, pre-established relationship, fluff, boyfriend!christian, uses of she/her pronouns, soft dom!christian x sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (pretty, baby, good girl...), praise kink, mutual masturbation, a little bit of cum play, not edited

Notes: to the girls in the gc, i am not back, just thought i would surprise you 🤭 to everyone else, hello, hi, here's my first festive-ish fic. i'll be honest, there isn't much festive about this, other than like two lines and the pun in the title but it's something...a little clunky and the ending is rushed but whatever. anyway feedback is always appreciated

“Please, Christian!”

A laugh trickled up Christian's throat, passing his lips on a single breath, as Y/N continued to stagger open-mouthed kisses up the column of his neck and across the stubble that painted his jaw. His hands go to her hips, holding her still when she tries to grind against him, desperate to seek out some friction to soothe the ache that had been building between her thighs all night. Rolled up sleeves, flexed forearms, and lingering touches that burned away the cold, winter chill were a tasty recipe that was only leading to disappointment.

“I need you,” she whines into his ear, dragging her hand down his toned chest. His body grows taut, her hand dusting over his shorts, earning a faint groan as she squeezes him through the black material. “You want me too, baby,” she dips her head back into the curve of his neck, “unless you've got something else stuffed down your shorts.”

“Your parents-”

“I can be quiet.”

“Ha!” His laughter gets lost inside her mouth, her lips crashing against his, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip when he doesn't allow her tongue to meet his. “The only way I can keep you quiet is if I stuff your mouth,” he says, her ears hearing only the truth.

“So treat my mouth like a stocking and stuff it,” she purrs, the corners of her mouth turning upwards into a wickedly delightful grin.

Her hand slides inside his shorts, stroking him from root to tip as she takes his cock with a tight grip. Soft grunts leave his mouth, her hand coming up to wrap around the head, squeezing it with enough pressure to make him dizzy.

He tips his head back, softly thudding against the headboard. “You're gonna be the death of me, one day.”

“So…is that a yes?” She asks, batting her eyelashes.

“Not exactly,” he watches the disappointment roll over her features, “but, I have an idea, if you're willing to try.”

“Go on…”

“You want to come, yes?” She goes quiet, answering with a nod. “So, touch yourself-”

“It's not the same,” she cuts him off, bringing her mouth against his neck, teasing out a moan as she licks down to his collarbone. She bites, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, her thighs clamping as he squeezes her hips tighter. “I want you to touch me,” she whines, nuzzling her face against his stubble, enjoying the feel of it rasping against her skin, “I want you to make me come.”

“I'll still be here,” he flips their position, hopping off the bed before she can respond, “and I'll be doing the exact same thing.” He peels his shirt off over his head, throwing it in her direction; she bats it away like a cat’s paw to a fly. “Show me what you do to yourself when I'm away,” he coaxes, “and I'll show you what I do.”

She sits up, her fingers taking control as she reaches for the end of her T-Shirt. “I don't see how this is any different to us just having sex,” she mumbles, tossing it to the end of the bed.

“Leave the bra on,” Christian utters, parting his lips on a groan. His hand is pushed down the front of his shorts, giving himself a slow stroke as he admires the dark red lace.

She looks down at her recent purchase, thinking the colour was fitting for the holiday season. “So you like it?”

“It's gonna be something new to think about when I'm away,” he confesses, pulling his shorts off, kicking them away as they reach the ground. His cock had sprung up, the tip swollen and red, aching to be emptied. He works his pre-cum over the head, a moan getting lost in the back of his throat as he does his best to stay quiet. “Our bed is against the same wall as your parents’, baby,” he painfully reminds her, “and I haven't recovered from the last time we tried to have sex under the same roof as your parents. Or, do you not remember your mom interrupting us?”

Heat trickles up her neck. “I remember, but this is our house. We can have sex in our own home.”

“Not tonight,” he shakes his head, “not this week.” She huffs a breath, back slumping against the headboard. She couldn't believe she was being cock blocked by her own parents in her own home, with a boyfriend who was going along with it. “Now, spread your legs,” he orders, climbing to kneel at her feet, “and pull your panties to the side. I want to see you.”

She sits up, parting her legs without any hesitation, biting her lip to suppress a whimper as she exposes herself to the cold air. It's pretty and perfect, glistening with arousal.

“Wider,” he mumbles, slowing his strokes, “spread your pussy open for me.” He knows he can't be loud, but a groan rips through him as she uses two fingers to spread her lips. “Look at it,” he squeezes his hand tight around the tip, “it's just begging for me to fuck it.”

“Please,” she whimpers, brushing her fingers over her clit, dancing around the sensitive nub. Her free hand roams her chest, drawing his gaze to the way she pinched her nipples through the lace. She whimpers again, tugging harshly on her nipple. “Please, Christian,” she tips her head back, exposing the soft column of her neck, “please, just fuck me!”

“Quiet, baby,” he leans over her body, skirting his mouth up her neck, nipping at her pulse point and flicking his tongue against her ear, “we don't need your daddy hearing his little girl begging to be fucked through the wall.”

“And what about this daddy?” She grins, nudging him back to look at him. His eyes go wide, but his cock throbs in his hand. “What does this daddy need his little girl to do?”

He sits back on his heels, fucking his fist faster, wishing he could suck on the puckered bud pressing through her bra. “What do you think about when I'm away?” He nods to her hand, her fingers rubbing her clit in hard circles. “Do you think about me? Do you think about my fingers inside you instead of your own?”

She pushes two fingers inside her cunt, him watching as they come out coated in her wetness. He licks his lip thinking about how they would taste if she shoved them into his mouth. Those thoughts disappear as she pushes them back in, deeper this time, her back arching away from the bed. Her other hand slides over her belly and down to her clit.

“I think about you,” she's panting for air now, her pleasure building as she curls her fingers, brushing the sweet spot against her front wall, “us, on your birthday, out on the balcony.”

A laugh bubbles in his throat, his cheeks blushing the sweetest shade of pink as the memory comes flooding back to him. Her on his lap, his cock, thick and hard through his pants, rubbing up against her aching cunt. “That was a good night,” he agrees, pumping his cock, squeezing his head on every upstroke. He was close, but he knew she was too. “Never did finish, did we?”

She can't answer, the words trapped inside, so she just shakes her head instead.

“I think…” Her eyes roll, bottom lip catching between her teeth to keep herself quiet. She pumps her fingers and rubs her clit faster. “...I'm close.”

“Yeah?” He matches her speed, forearms flexing, his tattoos visible from the corner of her eyes. His lips part on a silent groan. “Good, because I don't think I'll last much longer.” Her name shudders out his mouth. “Fuck-!” He shifts until he’s straddling one of her thighs, his cock pointing proudly towards her as he jerks his hand in her direction. “Can I come on your pussy?”

She whimpers, feeling empty as she withdraws her fingers. “Do it,” she nods, rubbing her clit, the last little push she needs to hurtle herself off the edge.

She comes with his name on her lips, her hand clamped over her mouth to catch the majority of her screams, and Christian comes to the sound of it. His eyes squeeze shut, muttering, “take it, take it all,” under his breath as he coats her pussy in his cum. The release knocks off his balance and he grabs the top of the headboard to stop himself from collapsing on top of Y/N.

He tries to catch his breath, his forehead briefly pressing against hers, his body half slumped over. “When do your parents leave?” He asks, brushing his thumb lightly over her swollen clit. She shudders, biting her bottom lip to cage the whine that was strangled in the back of her throat. “End of the week, right?” She nods her head. “Good,” he murmurs, wiping his fingers through his cum, painting his arousal around her cunt, “because I'm tired of being cock blocked in my own home.”

———————

Football Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you

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heartpiratedrabbles · 1 month

Text

Shanks Touch

Prompt: Shanks visits your village after being away for a long time and in classic Shanks fashion a party ensues.

Requested by Anonymous

NSFW

Shanks X Male Reader

It had been a long while since Shanks appeared on the shores of your island. Many moons coming and going before you got word of the warlord checking in on one of his many territories. Your heart skipped a bit as you watched the horizon for any sign of his ship. The island always seemed to be more chipper when he was around, a never-ending party as Shanks would gleefully find any excuse to continue drinking.

It took 3 mornings, but finally you could see it. The Red Hair Jolly Roger waving in the wind, it’d only be an hour or so until his ship would be docked, and everyone about seemed to be prepping for their arrival. Every tavern fully stocked, and more shipments expected to arrive soon, fully expecting to be drank out of house and home.

The towns people’s happy faces talking of Shanks greatest feats as the town square looked like it was preparing for a festival. You, yourself were helping set up lodging, knowing the pirate crew would be passing out on land after being on the sea for so long. The towns mayor more than happy to gather tribute money for the protection the Red Hairs Flag offers us.

Finally, you hear the bell ring through the town, the ship docking as his crew unloads the boat of treasures and booze. You run towards the dock, staying to the back of the crowd as you glance through faces to find the familiar red hair, his tall-tale laugh reaching your ears as you see him a couple dozen paces away.

Your feet freezing in place when you see him smiling while talking to other townsfolk, a tug on your heart before you force yourself forward, determined to make yourself known. Before you can even get near him you hear him call your name, his attention turning towards you as he walks up to you. He bends down, easily picking you despite the one arm and twisting you around. “Shanks!” You say with a smile plastered on your face.

“How I’ve missed you!” Shanks laughs out while putting you down, “This calls for a celebration!” His hand raising in triumph as you could see Benn sighing heavily behind him. The next few moments seem to move too quickly as you’re swept with the crowd, Shanks keeping a hold of your shoulder as he walks towards his favorite tavern.

It isn’t lost on you how his hand ghosts your back before resting itself on your ass. A subtle squeeze as he leans closer to you. “I’m assuming by Benn’s reaction that you were already ‘celebrating’ on deck?” You laugh out, twisting your neck to look at him as you grab his hand, moving it to your hip.

“He’s just a Sourpuss that I drank an entire keg” His booming laughter filled your ears as the entire town was swept into a rhythm of his making. Shanks leads you to the back of the tavern, sitting in an corner with a large round table, his men filling in the rest of the seats as tankards full of Rum and Vodka were placed in front of them.

He pulls you onto his laugh, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist as he pulls you flush against him, his head leaning over your shoulder as you grab his cards for him, holding them only for him to see while he sips his drink. Cheering and laughing ringing through the building while you help him play poker, his hand laying on your hip as he grinds into you.

It isn’t until a couple of drinks in that you feel him sink his hand into your pants, a blush rushing to your face as you glance to see if anyone notices, his fingers delicately brushing against the skin of your dick, a twitch into his hands as you suck in a breath. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one happy to see you~” Shanks whispers into your ear, grinding his own hardon into you as you hide your face behind the cards in your hand.

His thumb running over your delicate tip as you attempt to keep playing while distracted, moving one of your legs so he has easier access to do as he pleases. Shanks lips pressing against your jawline and neck as you press yourself into him.

You can feel Shanks grin into your skin as he tightens his hold around you, a playful tug making you yearn for more, “Kid it’s your turn.” You slap a random card down, not caring about the game anymore as your head leans back onto Shanks’ shoulder, your free hand wrapping around to rake your fingers through his hair, a low groan escaping your lips.

“Is there something you need darling?” His hushes whisper pressed against your neck as he leaves a bruising mark in his wake. Slow, deliberate strokes driving you insane as you try to thrust into his touch, “Remember you have to play properly,” His slight taunt making your ears ring as you open your eyes, glancing at the table. Most seem unfazed, others glancing but returning to their cards as the rest of the Tavern continues to party on.

Huffing as you feel him teasing you, changing pressures as he continues to pump his hand, Shanks enjoying watching you unravel. Straightening your back as you scootch a little bit off his lap, your hand dipping behind you to palm the outside of his pants just as he quickens his pace.

“Getting daring, aren’t we?” Shanks whispers, nipping at your earlobe as he ruts up into your palm, his grip becoming tight, a finger dancing over the slit of your sensitive tip as you choke on your breath.

He pulls you back against him fully, jerking you faster as you lean against the table, your face in your arms as your hand barely holds onto the cards in your hand, your legs dangling on either side of him. Biting your lip to hold back your labored breathing as your release quickly approaches.

Grinding your hips into his touch as you feel the pressure building, Shanks hand quickly glides down your shaft, a tight hold around the base of your leaking cock. A desperate moan escaping your lips as your eyes widen, the building of pressure feeling like too much. Your hands pushing you off the table as you push yourself against Shanks even further in a desperate attempt to get his hold on your cock to loosen, to let you feel the sweet release you’ve been craving.

“Now, now.” His laughing tone hits your frustrated ears, “That’s for later. Can’t have you becoming spent too early.” You feel the pressure slowly ebb away, the tight grip around your cock loosening as you slam your head against the table in disbelief.

#Shanks #Red Hair Shanks #One Piece #One Piece Smut #Shanks X Reader #Shanks X Male Reader

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jakes3resin · 1 month

Text

Drops this here and flees back to my A/B/O fic doc

"You're a Brit?" The question comes from Curt, and Bucky bites the inside of his cheek.

"Parents were." Bucky says simply turning back to his drink, but Curt's three drinks deep and knows Bucky too well by now to let him get away with that answer.

"But you said you're from Wisconsin?"

"I am," Bucky nods. Curt gives him a look, and Bucky can feel Buck staring at him. "I was raised there after I turned 3. Came here for a few years for boarding school, but my aunt and uncle brought me back before I turned 18."

"How come?" Croz joins in setting down a tray of drinks, and Bucky wishes they'd let this go. There's a reason he doesn't talk about all this.

"I asked." Bucky smiles. "The weather sucks, and I was bored."

"Sorry chaps, did you just say you went to boarding school here?" One of the RAF pilots that likes to stick their nose into Bucky's conversations butts in. Bucky resists the urge to bang his head against the table.

"This fella, right here." Curt smacks Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky sends him a look to cut it out. He catches Buck's eye and sees the questions building in his blue eyes. Bucky turns away. He can't answer those questions.

"Where abouts?" The RAF pilot clearly doesn't see how done with this topic Bucky is.

"Scotland." Bucky answers with a sharp grin. "Old school, but you won't know it."

"Bloody hell," The man stares at Bucky wide-eyed, and he can feel Buck tensing, whether it's to defend Bucky or to stop him from doing something stupid that's still unclear. "You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you?"

Bucky freezes. He stares up at the Brit, grin sharp and eyes a bit dangerous. Most wizards know not to talk too loudly about magic around Muggles and No-Majs, but this guy's deeper in his cups than half the bar.

"For a few years." Bucky confirms sounding like he was pulling out teeth with each word. "You go there too?"

"Of course! Sorted right into Gryffindor!" The man straightens up suddenly affronted that Bucky would dare even think the opposite. "It's the finest school!"

"This side of the Atlantic sure." Bucky leans back, trying to distance himself.

"If you went to Hogwarts, what are you doing palling around with this bunch?"

"Cause I want to." Bucky watches Curt glare at the Brit, but he's calling over more Brits before any of them can stop him.

"Reginald! Listen to this, this chap here says he went to Hogwarts!" The shocked looks on the faces of the gathered British pilots makes Bucky question how the hell they've kept magic secret for centuries. If a few drunk flyboys can talk this openly, what the hell are they doing to keep the secret?

"Preposterous," Bucky thinks it's Reginald who says that, but he doesn't care. "Hogwarts doesn't allow Americans. You, what family are you from?"

"Family?" Croz murmurs looking lost. Buck's gaze is still sitting heavy on Bucky's shoulders. Bucky sighs, truly over these idiots.

"Why do you wanna know all that?" Curt glares up at Reginald. He doesn't understand what the man's on about, but he knows he's insulting Bucky.

"Only the most noble houses could pull an American into Hogwarts." Reginald sniffs, and out of the corner of his eye, Bucky sees Buck finally turn his attention away to place a calming hand on Curt's shoulder. Curt settles back unhappily. "Riffraff doesn't make the cut."

"Right, riffraff," Bucky murmurs. Buck swings his focus back to him now.

"So, out with it!" One of the other Brits urges.

"Out with what?" Bucky says with a laugh. "You boys know my name."

"Yes, but what Noble House do you come from?" The original Brit rolls his eyes at him obviously over Bucky's stalling.

"Is this really that important?" Croz tries to intervene, but the RAF boys steamroll over him.

"Unless of course, you're lying about attending Hogwarts." One of the flyboys grins mockingly. Bucky grits his teeth. This is why he doesn't talk about his family. Brits always going on and on about blood and prestige. He hates it. "Trying to fit in, are we?"

Bucky stares up at them. There's a reason he'd kept his old name quiet. He doesn't want the fuss. But it looks like he has no choice here. These boys won't leave him alone until he coughs it up.

"Scamander, got it?" Bucky grins up at the idiots surrounding him. His hands twitch, a phantom weight in his palm that he ignores. "Now beat it."

"Great Scott, don't tell me you're related to Theseus Scamander?"

Bucky sucks at his teeth.

"That's my cousin." He admits, hoping this will be enough to sate their curiosity. He's wrong. The boys explode, some asking questions, others denying that he's related to such an esteemed gentleman.

Buck's gaze has never felt so heavy.

#mota #masters of the air #bucky egan #john egan #john bucky egan #gale cleven #gale buck cleven #buck x bucky #clegan #my writing #magic au

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grandlinedreams · 7 months

Text

[heads up!: mentions of alcohol/being drunk, suggestive at the end]

The bar is too noisy. Around you there are voices overlapping one another, bursts of raucous laughter and overinflated retelling of tales made of varying levels of truth.

You nurse your own drink, keeping an eye on the tablefull of your own crew and rolling your eyes as you spot a head of dark hair bobbing in the mess of it, the burst of familiar laughter that accompanies it. Of course he'd be in that maelstrom of activity, feeding off of it and stoking the inebriated fire with rounds of drinks you know they won't remember in the morning.

This is his kind of scene ㅡ he always looks prettiest when he's glowing like a supernova, cheeks flush with the praise that tumbles from crewmates' lips.

Somewhere in your reverie, you've lost track of him ㅡ and then there's an arm being slung over your shoulder, pulling you to someone who smells of woodsmoke and ocean. "Having fun?"

"Oh yes," you say, "watching our beloved crewmates get absolutely trashed is the highlight of this evening."

Ace laughs outright at that, and you're certain you're never going to get sick of that sound or the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. "And here I thought I was the highlight of your day."

"You always are," you answer, catching the answering flush of his cheeks, though it may be the alcohol he's also drank tonight.

"Let's get out of here," Ace says, halfway to pulling you out of your chair before you can even respond and you offer a choked yelp, trying to finish your drink without slopping it over yourself and your boyfriend.

"Ace, my drink!"

"Oh, here." He pivots towards you, nimble fingers easing the glass from your fingers ㅡ and promptly downs the rest of it before tugging you along with him.

"Ace," you half-pant from the way he's tugged you out of the bar, "when I said 'my drink', I didn't mean for you to drink it!"

There's a whine to your tone, one that makes Ace blink. "I'm sorry babe," he says, and you expect him to offer to replace it, or tease you about how slow you drink ㅡ he does neither.

Ace's lips are warm against yours, a little wind-chapped but familiar, and your lips part when he nips at your bottom one to deepen the kiss. He tastes like the alcohol he's been drinking tonight, warm and heady, making your head spin as you pull him closer.

Ace lets you, his own hands at your hips, squeezing as he backs you against the wall, slotting a leg between yours. There's a low, thrumming heat building in your veins, and you gasp when Ace pulls from your lips in favor of refocusing on your neck, sucking at your pulse point.

"Not here," you manage, reaching up to tug at his hair and shivering when he groans against your skin. "Ace, no. Not here."

He reluctantly pulls away, and you're not sure if the blown-wide quality of his pupils is from alcohol anymore. "Let's go back," he says, "while everyone's still busy here."

You stumble a little as he tugs you along, clinging to his hand. "If we're caught, I swear--"

He turns, offering you that dazzling smile that edges into a dangerous smirk. "We won't be, if you can stay quiet."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #–ml: ace.

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thefearedashantis · 4 months

Text

Turn The Lights Down Low

Pairing: photographer!Remus x blackfem!reader

summary: Reader promised to fill in as Remus’ model for the day however she neglects to inform him she’s feeling sick before its too late.

word count: 1,754 ish

warnings: fainting

“Straighten up your posture for me.” No please, no reassuring grin. Remus is entirely in his element right now, face completely hidden behind the camera aimed at you. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered by the formality. This was his livelihood after all. You were just an old friend from highschool occasionally called on last minute when a real model bailed on him. And even then, you’re sure Lily was rung before resorting to you. ‘Friend’ may not even an appropriate word. Sure, you ran in the same circles back then but you'd never actually spoken to each other one on one. These favours were the closest you’ve ever gotten to being alone with him.

“You’re still slouching” Remus chides, wrinkling his nose at you.

You can feel the pressure starting to build behind your eyes as you fight back tears with everything left in you. His assistant/stylist Marlene, another old face from school, will have your head if you ruin your makeup. Again. She’s always kind enough to take extra care in color matching for you as your makeup skills are very limited. However, you still had to manage your own hair. The curls and texture too ‘unruly’ in her terms.

You feel like you’re being baked alive under all the lights. Blindingly bright and white. Sweat dribbles its way down your aching spine. Pinprick’s crawling up from your extremities, leaving your limbs heavy and numb.

Your throat is scratchy, your mouth is dry. You fear if you move even the tiniest inch, suck in your stomach for a second longer or force your lips into another toothy smile, that you’ll lose your breakfast all over Remus’ beautiful set.

To tell the truth you'd woken up this morning feeling slightly ill, but you couldn’t bear the idea of disappointing him so you vowed to push through.

“Stick your right leg further out.”

You do as told, focusing your ever fading gaze on the floor as another series of clicks and flashes go off. You can’t take this much longer.

“Rem?” You haven’t spoken in so long your voice comes out strained. He doesn’t respond at first, squinting down at his shots with a scrutinizing notch between his brow. Sometimes you wonder why he chose to be the one behind the camera instead of before it. Beauty like his was rare enough. With his tall, lean stature. Wavy dark hair, coppery eyes and clean rich skin. Maybe his scars were the deterring factor. The pallid thin lines webbing from the corner of his eye, across the high bridge of his nose, along his cheek and ending at the corner of his lips. They didn’t dampen his charm in your eyes.

You lick your glossed lips and try again “Remus do you think we could take a break please?”

“Just five more minutes if you can manage, i want to finish this set then you can rest and get changed for the next.” The camera takes its place before his face and he motions for you to straighten up once again.

You cannot manage. Especially having lost almost all feeling in your legs. Chest heavy and eyes nearly impossible to keep open.

“Are you alright y/n?” The question comes from Marlene, who stands off to the side with a useless fan and her touch up bag. She’s noticed your excessive sweating. Entirely too much even for the warmest of days.

Her concern breaks the camel's back. Your knees buckle and you hit the floor, hard, with a feeble sigh.

The next few minutes are a blur. Frantic words are muffled. Two fingers at your wrist check your pulse. Another set of hands tug at your clothing. Something cold is pressed to your neck.

When you fully come to, you’re greeted by darkness. The lights are dimmed. You’ve been moved to the back room and nestled onto an old threadbare couch. A damp cloth on your forehead drips water down the side of your face. The tight clothes you’d been dressed in now replaced by your own t-shirt and shorts. Your heart drops in embarrassment as your foggy mind begins to clear. You go to sit up but are immediately stopped by a gentle hand on the stomach.

Remus, who was apparently sitting on the floor by the couch leans over you to get a good look at your face “Hey, can you hear me?” Whatever he sees must not be to his satisfaction. “How are you feeling?”

You don’t know what to say so you opt for silence. Avoiding his gaze that is hellbent on holding yours. Not only did you drop like a fly in front of them the taste in your mouth lets you know you threw up somewhere in there as well. One of them had to peel pukey material off your skin.

Remus must read your thoughts because he backs off a little then. Swiping his fingers at his nose to distract from the rouge coloring his cheeks. “Marlene changed you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The tears begin to flow before you can reign them in. Yes, that is a crucial part of your mortification but the shame of ruining the shoot overshadows it. “I’m sorry, oh I'm so sorry” you choke out.

He squints disapprovingly at your sniffling. Not offering any sort of comfort. You didn't feel deserving of it anyway. Poor Marlene was probably in the studio right now mopping up spittle. You only cry harder at the thought.

“Why didn't you say you were feeling ill? We could have rescheduled”

He’d made it sound so urgent over the phone. “I didn’t want to put you out.”

Remus clicks his teeth, shaking his head at your silliness. He sits there watching you sob for a few more seconds. It all gets too overwhelming and you attempt to wiggle away from him when he finally makes a move. The hand that you now realize never left your stomach slides to your side. The other worming under you to pull you up slightly. His chin presses into the top of your head as he pulls you to his chest, squishing your face at his throat. He rubs soothing circles into your back, shushing you with gruff grumbles. When you don’t quiet down, he only holds you tighter. Its suffocating in the best way. Leaving you light headed on a scent akin to incense.

“Does your head hurt?” he asks, smoothing some of your hair down “You hit the ground pretty hard. Maybe we should go to the emergency room.”

You shake your head with a sniffle “No, I just need to sleep it off.” You’ve always been prone to sickness. You just need to get home to your medicine cabinet and you’d be fine enough.

“Ok come on then.” He pulls away to straighten up.

“What?”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s only a few minutes’ walk i-“

“I’m not letting you walk home like this, come on.” His tone leaves no room for argument. He helps you off the couch and when you stumble on the first step tells you to wait a second. You’re swooped up in his arms before any protest can be given. The two of you make your way to the front after grabbing your belongings. Marlene waves off your apologies with the end of the mop. Bidding you goodbye with a ‘get well soon’.

The sun is only just beginning to set outside. Remus’ car is parked across the street.

“You know this is the closest we’ve ever been” you find yourself mumbling when his hair tickles your ear.

“What do you mean?” he asks, hiking you up higher in his grip.

“Like in school, yeah we shared friends but you and I never actually spoke.” An awkward laugh bubbles out of you “One time you didn’t even recognize me when I ran into you while on holiday”

You realize what you’ve said and backtrack quickly “Not that I’m complaining or anything! It’s just, I always wanted to get to know you better. You and James and Sirius always seemed so cool and like, radiant from afar you know.” You get the feeling that he doesn’t know and you’re just rambling. “You drew people in and it always looked like fun to be that close to you. So, when you called me for the first time about a shoot, I was ecstatic.”

Especially since you’d just figured everyone from that friend group had just lost your number by then. Nobody ever tried to get into touch or answered your messages after graduation except Lily occasionally. You assumed they just didn’t deem you anything worth keeping in contact with. Remus reaching out meant more than you could express with words, even if it was only for work. You saw this as your second chance, but things had never extended outside of the studio despite your best effort. An invitation for coffee after long hours. Rejected. An offer to stay back and clean up. Rejected. To meet up and discuss shoot ideas. Rejected. Always too busy.

When you get to the car, he plants you on your feet for a few seconds. Unlocking the passenger side and ushering you inside with a protective hand on your head. “It was Sirius who suggested you” he admits, buckling your seatbelt and laying your chair back slightly. “He always fancied you back then actually, too scared to ever say anything.”

Your shock is interrupted by a blanket being spread over your legs and a pillow placed behind your head.

“Comfy?”

You nod “Why do you have these in your car?”

A shrug. “Sometimes I sleep at the studio.”

He shuts the door and you watch him jog around the car from the rearview mirror. Neither of you speak again until you’ve pulled off. The words come so quietly you almost miss them over the hum of the air conditioning.

“I am sorry though” Remus keep his head straight and you take your time admiring his profile. “I didn’t forget you that time. I was just shy running into a pretty girl without the boys with me.”

The smile that invades your face is so sudden and forceful your head begins to throb again. “Really? You’re not just trying to get in my good graces?”

“It would be worth the effort, but no.” He looks at you then, the first true smile you’d ever gotten from him softening his features. One specifically tailored for you “I could never forget you y/n.”

#remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #fem!reader #fem reader #female reader #black fem reader #black!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader #photographer!remus #sick reader #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #thefearedashantis

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prettyiwa · 5 months

Text

Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: MLB!Miyuki Kazuya, Interpreter!Reader, Coworkers to Friends to ???, Pining, Previous alcohol consumption, Mild flirting, First kiss, Almost confessions, Slight panic, guilt, & frustration, Adult Kazuya is still awkward, Reader is a little older than Kazuya, Reader takes her job very seriously, Mixed signals at the end. Summary: When Kazuya asked his team with the NPB to be posted, he didn't think he'd end up meeting you again. When time came to choose an interpreter, he chose you without hesitation. Neither of you truly anticipated that feelings would bloom, even with the near constant proximity. Your birthday rolls around and he isn't thinking about his silly little crush until he can't stop thinking about it. Word Count: 4,590

A/N: I wanted to include the entire story for his birthday but NaNoWriMo came along and took up my attention. So I'm sharing an excerpt instead!

And thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta @tyga-lily. I'd still be floundering if not for you ♡

As soon as he steps out into the night, Kazuya’s met with a wall of humid air, thick and warm thanks to the lingering heat from the day. His clothes are already starting to stick to him as he steps further from the house and it won’t be much longer until he starts to feel beads of sweat building at the nape of his neck. When he turns to find you, his movements feel a little loose and everything seems hazy at the edges and he realizes he’s not as sober as he thought he was.

Still, he’s gotta be soberer than you, what, with the drinking games you were dragged into by your college best friend. He’s honestly lost count of how many shots he took from you throughout the night (and however many more he ended up tossing into the plant him when they became too much).

The music inside dies down a bit—probably the work of your brother, the acting adult of the evening—and he tries to listen for you, only to come up empty. No sounds of your footsteps, neither in the street nor along the staircase leading to the beach, leaving him alone with the increasingly loud beating of his heart.

It’s only been a couple of minutes. How far could you have gone? It’s not like you could’ve made it down to the shore in that time. That doesn’t stop his mind from conjuring scenarios in which you fall into the water, unable to get back up. Moving forward, he ends up tripping over that same rock he’s tripped over three times today, feeling that familiar pain shoot from his toe up his leg.

“Dammit!”

“Miyuki?”

The sound of your voice floods him with relief and he turns his head in your direction. The motion makes him dizzy for half a second. “There you are.”

You pop around the corner, confusion almost as palpable as the humidity before it makes way for your wide grin. “Are you okay? Did the rock attack you again?”

He feels a flash of minor annoyance, but he can’t ignore the way your smile pulls at his own lips. “Shut it.”

“It’s been picking on you all day.” You chuckle, coming closer, letting him see the way you bite your tongue and hold it between your teeth to keep yourself from saying much more. “Aha, sorry. I don’t get to tease you like this often.”

“Yeah, sure.” He closes the distance, grip tightening around the jacket he brought for you in case it got cool. “What are you doing around here? I thought you came outside to get some fresh air.”

“I did, but then I remembered that I left you with them and that didn’t seem like a good idea.” You both glance toward the door, lips quirking at the raucous laughter that comes from inside, almost as if to prove your point. “At the very least, you should have someone to…”

You suck air through your teeth, trying to find the words, so he tries supplying them for you.

“Should I have someone to protect me from them?” He likes the sound of your laugh, the way it bounces between you two before settling on his skin.

“I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘you should at least have someone to interpret what they’re saying,’ but sure. Protect works too.” Even when drunk, you’re thinking of him and how to include him. Even when you’re drunk, you’re thinking about working.

“You don’t need to do that. It’s your birthday celebration. You should have fun.”

“I am having fun. You’re lots of fun.”

How do you do that so easily? Heat spreads across his cheeks, settling on the tips of his ears and the back of his neck and his mouth goes dry before he runs his fingers through his hair, thinking of what to say.

“You know, you switch to English a lot when you’re drunk.”

Yep. Awesome. Awesome response, Kazuya.

He watches as the realization hits you—the way you tilt your head to the left as you’re trying to remember, the slow opening of your mouth and raising of your brows before your hand covers your mouth in surprise. “No! What? Have I really?”

A laugh escapes him at your reaction and he feels a little bad when you bury your face in your hands. It’s not often he sees you this unguarded and animated. He’s still laughing when he starts pulling at your fingers, gently prying them away from your face as you eke out an apology. He won’t admit it to you, but he enjoys witnessing these tiny mistakes from you, little hints of proof that there’s more to you than he’s yet to learn.

You once told him you’re an open book, but he’s surprised by how deep the book actually is.

“Seriously. I hardly ever hear you speak so much English unless we’re doing interviews for the media.”

“Yes, almost like that’s entirely by design or something!” Your groan turns into a laugh before you turn away from him, leaving his hand to fall away from yours. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go take a swim until I hit land again.”

Three steps away and his hand is wrapping around your wrist, remembering why he came out here in the first place. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you smile, pulling your arm (and him) forward. “You’re not gonna try to stop me, are you?”

“With how much you’ve had to drink tonight? You definitely need a chaperone.” You wriggle your wrist free, though you slide your hand into his, filling the spaces between his fingers with yours.

“And you wanna be my chaperone? Miyuki. Listen. You’re an absolute baseball genius but I have seen you on the sand today. I’m much better suited to be your chaperone instead.”

“Oi! It was you who assumed I was any good at soccer in the first place.” Snickering beside him, you pull toward the stairs that lead to the sand, stumbling on the first step. His left arm comes out to stabilize you and the grip of his right tightens around your fingers and all it does is make you laugh more. “Who’s tripping over their own feet now, huh?”

Your fingers squeeze his and, when he glances over, you’re sporting a wide, carefree smile, one he’s only recently started seeing more of. Warmth blossoms from where you two touch, quickly spreading from his tingling fingers up his arm, gathering in the center of his chest. It’s impossible to be around you right now.

Looking out at the beach, he finds the minuscule moonlight barely bouncing off the waves in the distance, otherwise leaving everything in the dark. Despite how clear the skies were during the day, clouds have since taken hold in the sky, making everything feel closer than it is. Despite the darkness ahead that threatens to consume everything, it’s like you provide your own source of light, just for the two of you.

All giggles and energy beside him, nearly bounding from the last step once you reach it, only stopping because you’re tethered to him. His grip on your hand loosens and he refuses to acknowledge the fuzzy feeling in his chest when you ignore his offer to let you go, keeping your hand in his. Still, you pull at him, urging him forward at your pace on the uneven terrain.

“You’re such a child,” he says.

“I’m a child? I’m older than you. What does that say about you?”

“That I’m a victim of circumstance.”

Stopping in your tracks, you pull your hand from his grasp, he thinks he said something wrong, but there’s a smile on your lips as you bend down. “You? A victim? You, Miyuki Kazuya, are a great many things, but ‘victim’ isn’t one of them.”

It takes a moment too long before he registers that you’re fiddling with the fastening of your shoes.

“Oi, oi. Don’t take those off.” Looking up at him, you stick out your tongue, not ceasing your efforts to free yourself from your shoes. “You’re gonna complain about your feet being sandy when we reach those steps again.”

“Oh, boo. Let me have some fun.”

He catches himself halfway through running his fingers through his hair, smoothing the rest of it over to stop the nervous tic. “Are you gonna blame me when your feet hurt later?”

You’re silent for a bit, biting your tongue as you think before coming to a decision. “I’ll try not to.” It’s only a second or two more before you’ve successfully freed yourself from your shoes. Looking up at him, you give him a smile that means nothing good, though you wait before stepping away from your shoes. “Miyuki? You’ll let me have fun tonight, right? I hardly ever get to do stuff like this.”

Kazuya’s not sure what it is, but something about the way you ask has his heart kicking up a gear. “Agh, fine.” A false concession, but it keeps a smile on your face. “Just for tonight.”

“Good. I’ll hold my complaints till tomorrow, then!”

And you’re off, jumping up and away from your shoes with little regard for the sand you’ve inadvertently kicked everywhere. The skirt of your dress swishes as you move, catching his eye as it does. He looks away when you carelessly bend over, grabbing your shoes before starting to skip toward the shore.

“Hey! That’s not the agreement.”

“It is now,” you call, the sound of the ocean drowning out your laugh. Only once you’ve reached where the sand grows wet do you pause, looking his way. There’s still a wide smile plastered across your face and his chest grows tight as you step closer to the water.

He picks up his pace, anxiety creeping up on him at the thought of you nearing this massive, black body of water, only spiking when he hears your sharp shriek as the cold water laps at your toes. Despite the chill, you step deeper still until your feet are consistently covered.

Kicking off his shoes, he can’t keep his eyes off of you—the way your dress barely moves with the briefest breeze and the way you subtly shift your weight from one foot to the next as you try to grow accustomed to the cold that contrasts with what little warmth remains. The clouds pass, revealing more of you to him and he’s a little surprised at how much energy you still seem to have.

The sand is cool against his feet, meaning the water is that much colder, but he doesn’t particularly care about that right now. The closer he steps toward you, the less worry he feels for your safety and the more anxiety he feels for something entirely different. You shiver and he remembers the jacket in his hand, taking a moment to place it on your shoulders.

You start, almost as if you had forgotten him, but your smile suggests otherwise. He takes his place beside you, wondering how the hell you’re staying so quiet when the water is fucking freezing.

There’s a light out on the horizon, something that goes in and out with the waves, something to stare at when he becomes too aware of your presence next to him. Clouds pass over the moon again, making everything ahead go pitch black, leaving him with naught but the beating of his heart, the light in the distance, and the burning of his fingertips.

“I like it out here, you know?” Your voice is low enough that it’s almost lost among the lapping of the sea on the shore. The clouds continue to move and the moonlight comes back, letting him look at you while you continue to look ahead.

He’s struck by the memory of you two when you two first properly met. The rain that poured, driving everyone inside while you remained outside, under the cover provided by the building. The way you watched him with a curious look on your face as he tried to make himself as presentable as possible for the start of contract negotiations. The quiet ‘good morning’ and the comment about the weather just before he remembered where he knew you from.

“You like the rain, too.”

As you turn to look at him, he wonders whether you remember it, too. Despite you working with Wynd Academy for the Tokyo Senbatsu reunion, despite you again working with Tetsu during his negotiations, despite all of the little almosts that could have swayed him… He wonders whether you remember the first words you two actually exchanged with one another. The smile that shapes your lips is softer, one that, again, reminds him of when you two stood out in the rain together.

“Yeah, I do.”

The ocean captures your attention again and he enjoys the silence that falls.

“Hey, Miyuki?”

“Hn?”

“What made you choose me?”

“What?”

“When we came back from Japan. What made you stick with me as your interpreter?”

There’s a draw, an invisible pull that makes him want to look at you. When he does, you’re already watching him, head tilted, unsure of what you’re asking. Or perhaps unsure of the answer he’ll give?

“You could have chosen anyone else from the firm, but you stuck with me. I saw you looking through the portfolios.”

“Why are you asking? It’s in the past, isn’t it?”

Your gaze shifts away from him, but he has a feeling you’re not watching the waves. “I dunno. It’s something I’ve always wondered about and… never mind. It’s fine.”

He hates when you do that. “And?”

The breeze mixes with the waves as it passes, almost taking your reluctant sigh with it. “I thought I pissed you off with how demanding I was at first. I remember you looked so annoyed and I wanted to crawl into a hole.”

He snickers, trying to apply what you’ve just told him to the woman he met in Japan two years before. From the start, you needed him to be open and to communicate in a way that he couldn’t even muster in his previous relationship. More than once you reminded him of Mei and Kuramochi with how easily you caught onto his lies, even those by omission. Imagining you intimidated by him is laughable.

“Is that funny?”

“Yeah, a little.” He laughs properly when you roll your eyes and frown. “You hardly knew me but you had no problem putting me in my place. It’s funny to think that you wanted to crawl into a hole because of it.”

“Sure, sure. So? If my first impression didn’t ruin you, what made you want to keep me around?”

“That wasn’t my first impression of you.”

“Wasn’t it?” There’s this nervous edge to your voice, accompanied by the tell-tale playing with your nails.

“Did you forget? You were one of the interpreters for the Tokyo Senbatsu. You worked with the kids more, but I remember seeing you around.” You certainly got along with Mei back then. “And then you were who the Giants sent to interpret for Tetsu during his negotiations.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t there for that.”

“I was there at the airport, and Tetsu told us that he wanted to hire you then, too. Why didn’t you take him up?”

Blowing air, you take to chewing the inside of your cheek and turning your face away from him.

“It wasn’t the right timing. I wasn’t going to be able to interpret for him and finish my program if he was going to San Francisco.”

“So if he went to the Dodgers like I did, would you have accepted?”

“No.” You still don’t face him, but your admission sparks a wave of fluttering in him, only heightened by the cold water at his feet.

“What made you choose me, then?”

At this, you turn, challenging him with a smirk. “You didn’t answer my question.”

His smile grows, knowing full well that you’re avoiding answering his question. “You made it very easy for me to trust you.”

Whatever you thought you were going to hear, it’s clear that wasn’t it. That challenge in your eyes fades, your smile losing its edge as it’s colored by disbelief.

“Why do you ask?”

He watches as you take that disbelief and pocket it away with something more tender, something you’re not ready to be seen just yet. When you meet his eyes again, it’s with the ghost of a smile playing at your lips. “I’ve always been curious.”

“Is that all?”

You pause, eyes flickering across his face before settling on his again. “Yep.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“At least you know when I’m not being honest,” you try, starting to step away from him with a borderline mischievous grin. “Very hard for me to lie to you.”

“Yeah?”

Instead of answering him, you turn forward, allowing a silence to build between you both until he can feel the nervous energy that buzzes around you. Unable to stand it, he closes that distance again, nudging your shoulder as he settles. “Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Yeah, your turn. You turned down Tetsu, so what made you say yes to me?” Was it because the Dodgers are closer or because they’re the team you and your dad have followed or was it timing or…?

“I don’t know. Maybe because you would be close and the timing was right or—”

“You already admitted that proximity wouldn’t have made you say yes to Tetsu. Was it because it was me?”

“Are you kidding? If I knew it was you, I probably would’ve quit working with the league and gotten a position with the university.” Your laugh is a little self-depreciating and he doesn’t know why. “All I know is that we got the call that the Dodgers needed a Japanese interpreter and I jumped at the opportunity because it was something else to put on my portfolio. I didn’t learn they were courting you until I was already on the plane.”

“You seemed just fine when you greeted me that morning.”

“Aha, yeah. I was so nervous, it kinda just slipped out.”

“Were you really that nervous? I honestly never would have guessed.”

“Good to know. I never expected—” Catching yourself, you look at him, clearly hoping he didn’t hear that. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, you can’t just start that and then pretend like you didn’t say anything.”

“I can and I will.”

“No, for real, you can’t pretend like I didn’t hear that. Finish your thought.”

He watches as you try to edge yourself away, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from getting more than two feet away.

“Ooh, no you don’t.”

Squirming in his hold does nothing but make him pull you closer, trapping you against his chest. When he tries to get you to look at him, you hide your face in your palms again, failing this time because you’re still holding your shoes. The more you squirm, the closer he pulls you to him until you’re effectively trapped back to chest, laughing to yourself as he brings his lips level to your ear.

“What didn’t you expect?”

You shiver and he hears a muffled, “You aren’t making this any easier.”

“Why would I do that when you’re trying to hide something from me?”

“I’m not trying to hide anything.”

“Oh, yeah? Then you can tell me, right?”

“Kazuya, please—”

“Kazuya?” You freeze in his arms and his heart stutters in his chest—full-on stalling out, struggling to make it to the next gear, demanding more power to keep going. He hears the apology tumble out of your mouth in a rush, so he tells you, “I like it when you call me that.”

You stiffen for a moment before leaning into him, letting his words sink in, still feeling his warm breath against the exposed skin of your neck. “You— you are very good at making me do stupid things.”

“You mean to say that I bring out an entirely different level of stupid?”

“Shut up.” You push against his arms with no real effort to get away, but he doesn’t want to cross a boundary, so he loosens his grip. Despite the room to move, you lean into him more, staying where you are.

Is this a stupid thing?

“So? What’s this thing you never expected?”

Shuffling where you stand, he expects you to step away. Opening his arms fully, you surprise him, turning around and pressing your forehead against him.

“I never expected your stupid sense of humor or your stupid laugh or your stupid pretty face or that you would be the exact combination of stupid that would make me stupid.” Your voice is soft, lost somewhere between the night and the fabric of his shirt, but he hears you nonetheless.

“I’d be offended right now if you didn’t just say you find me pretty.” He’d be offended right now if you didn’t just suggest what he thinks you’re suggesting.

“You are pretty. It makes me mad.”

“Me being pretty makes you mad?”

“Very mad.” You move to look at him and he’s expecting a pout, not the serious look in your eyes. Your brows furrow and—yup, there it is—your lips turn into a pout as you continue staring before your gaze shifts to his lips. He thinks it’s just gonna be a moment, just a glance, but it’s not.

Shit.

Your lips part, just a little bit, just enough that he’s slowly inching forward and so are you. Just enough so he feels the shaky little exhale before you close the distance, pressing your lips to his.

You’re—soft. Really soft. Soft in the way you’re pressing against him. Soft in the way you feel when his arms close around you, holding you to him. Soft in the way you move your arms so they’re draped over his shoulders, so your shoes tap against his back, so your fingers brush against the hairs at the nape of his neck. Soft in the way your lips move against his, making him dizzy, making him feel, as you so eloquently put it, stupid.

Then there’s that sound you make, something else that’s soft, something between a whimper and a whine before you flick your tongue against his bottom lip.

Shit.

Another sound when he tries to hold you closer, when his palms spread out across your back, when all he can think and feel and breathe is you. Your fingers tangle in his hair before pulling, giving you a whine in turn and he feels you smile before pulling away for air.

Resting his forehead against yours, his senses slowly come back to him, though they’re still primarily focused on you. The feel of the bunching of the fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips, the racing of his heart in his chest, the cool of the water against his feet. The smell of the salty ocean air and that odd combination of sunscreen and your body wash. The lingering taste of you against his lips, and the little craving to taste more. The sounds of the waves, seemingly in the distance when compared to the beating of his heart and your shaky breathing. The sight of you, of your tongue smoothing over your bottom lip before they close, of your eyelashes touching your cheeks in the lighting provided by the waxing moon, of the slow opening of your eyes and the emotions that follow.

He’s never been good at reading people, especially not their emotional state, and he can’t trust himself to get it right at this moment. He wants there to be hope. He wants there to be acceptance. He wants to see the reciprocated feeling of “fucking finally” because that’s what he’s feeling. He wants it so bad that he can’t trust himself to read you right now.

But he does know he’s not imagining it the moment it hits you.

You release his hair before your hand slides back down his chest, coming to rest on your lips.

That surprise. That fear. That—

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry! I’m your interpreter! I shouldn’t—shit. That was so stupid. Please forgive me.”

All the warmth that built up in his chest leaves with the slow sinking of his heart. Of course. Everything comes back to your job.

“I’m not here as your client.”

Oof, that came off a lot harsher than he meant it to be. He hopes that your little flinch is because of the sudden breeze and not because of him. “You’re not my interpreter right now. You’re my friend.”

But that guilt written all over your face doesn’t go away. “I’m—”

“It’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.”

You turn your gaze down before you turn your head away slightly. His grip around you loosens and this time you take the smallest step back. Dammit.

“Thank you. I—” You won’t even look at him. “Please forgive me.”

He sighs through his nose and he can feel the crease between his eyebrows as it forms. Turning back toward the shore, he slips his hand in yours.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” It definitely comes out as a bite, though (again) he doesn’t mean it as such. That doesn’t deter you from squeezing his fingers.

You trail behind him for only a minute more before quickening your pace and taking your space beside him. As you grow closer to the stairs heading back to the street, you turn, looking toward the solitary tables near the public bathroom.

“You don’t—”

“Let’s sit,” he interrupts, making it known he’s still with you, even if a large part of you seems intent on trying to move past something he’s wanted for the last year and a half now.

When you look at him, it’s with relief, with that stress and second-guessing slowly melting away. “Thank you.”

Maybe he should take the seat opposite you instead of right beside you, but he’s going to be selfish for as long as you’ll let him.

“I’m not ready to go back inside just yet.” You wait for a response and Kazuya decides it’s better if he doesn’t. “Do you mind… you don’t have to, but I’d like to sit out here for a while longer.”

Instead of offering a verbal response, he relaxes, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Thank you. I think… I think I might still be a little buzzed.”

Yeah, you really can’t lie to him.

“I don’t want to go in there when she’s still awake. I might say something stupid.”

That’s more like it, though he wonders if that “something stupid” will end with your friend giving you a lecture or giving one to him. Lecture or not, he’d prefer to keep your attention for himself.

You chatter on for another ten or so minutes, mostly compelled by your wish to move on from what happened, but eventually, you give in to the silence. It’s another couple of minutes before you rest your head on his shoulder. The two of you sit in silence with the soft promise to leave whenever you’re ready.

The sun slowly rises and he still finds himself on the beach with his hand still interlinked with yours, still hoping that this sea salt flavored kiss won't be the only one you two share.

Daiya no Ace Masterlist

#miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no a x reader #ace of diamond x reader #✒.ix writes #daiya.✒#tti #✒.the catcher's accomplice #title inspired by a tyler knott gregson poem:#I kiss you and on your lips I taste the sea and the sea has always been home to me.#pls their relationship is so complex and there's so much that happens but it's not ready so I have nothing to share but this little bit #;-;#the boy

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lenaariewrld · 1 month

Text

dream girl

osamu miya ending・ᡣ𐭩

You set your phone down and inhale deeply, enjoying the cooler evening air. It’s refreshing on your skin, and fragrant with the smells of treats and food from the festival. The scent of flowers and coffee also seem to paint the air in a sweet spring aura, the weight of your body settled against your arms as you lean against the bench you rest at. There’s remnants of liquor and weed too, if you inhale deeply enough, but you find it’s not as annoying and easier to ignore when you’re in such a good mood.

Your belly was full, your energy was being replenished as you sipped your drink, and you were happy to let your feet get a break while you relaxed next to Osamu. The both of you had decided to find an empty spot on the bleachers, closer towards the very back and waiting for the fireworks show, and the lantern release that would follow. He sighed as he rested an arm on his knee, sipping his own drink contemplatively.

Spending the rest of your evening with the man was fun, and it was even more special now that you had realised how much he’d come to mean to you. Not only was he the first genuine friend you’d made at this place, and a gentleman who had made sure you’d gotten home safely when you were waaaayyyy less than able to, he’d been understanding of your situation since day one. He was respectful and always made sure you were comfortable (though that didn’t make you immune to his lighthearted teasing, not that you were complaining). And, to top it all off, he’d given you a place to stay and been to your rescue numerous times. He was so special to you, the only problem was figuring out if you meant that much to him as well.

While you were lost in your thoughts, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the energy drink can in your lap, you didn’t notice Samu’s own contemplative expression. His thoughts were racing a million miles an hour. You both sit in silence, the previous conversation topic having died out by now. What even had you been talking about? You couldn’t recall.

“Samu–”

“Y/n–”

He splits into a grin as you both begin speaking, a sweet chittering giggle leaving you at the timing as well. “You first,” You offer, patting his thigh. His eyes jump towards your hand. His fingers place themselves over your hand before you can pull away, the air growing quiet again. Only the chirping of bugs and faint conversations of students wandering around in the distance fill the silence. He interlocks his fingers with yours, his palm is warm and surprisingly soft against yours. It awes you both how easily your hand fits in his, like a puzzle piece slotting into position.

“I..” He swallows, staring at your hands. His thumb rubs small circles against the side of your hand. “You’re a really amazing woman, y’know?” Samu finally speaks, and you listen with bated breath, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation. Your stomach is beginning to twist itself up with nerves, your skin growing clammy. Was he going to let you down gently or what? “I’m… very lucky to have ya, and I’ve been grateful to get so close to ya and see how far you’ve come with everythin’ that’s been thrown yer way,” The corners of his mouth are pulling up fondly, and he’s turning over your hand, holding it between the both of you. You’re still silent, nodding when he lets a few more seconds drift between the both of you, building the tension.

He looks away and sighs, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “God, I sound like a sap,” He laughs roughly, the sound rumbling in his chest and sending shivers along your nervous system, erupting more butterflies in your knotted tummy.

“What ‘m tryin’ to say is I like ya,” He finally gets it out, his knee starting to bounce with his own nerves. “Like a lot, maybe too much given I’ve only known you for the better part of a year,” He moves to let go of your hand but you squeeze tightly onto his fingers. Suddenly, the slight stickiness in the air doesn’t bother you and the ache of your feet is gone, the condensation gathering on your free hand isn’t annoying, and any of the nerves building in your system dissipates. Your lips split into a grin.

Before you can stop yourself– not that you want to, you promised yourself you’d try –you throw yourself forward and circle your arms around his shoulders. His hands grab you by the hips, keeping the both of you from toppling over while you crash your lips into his, a short squeal of excitement involuntarily leaving you. You would be embarrassed if you watched yourself in this moment, your hands grabbing the back of his neck as you slot your lips into his easily, the plush and warmth of him making your mind fuzzy. He kisses you back insistently, his hands squeezing you a couple times.

This was real, you were here and he was with you, the both of you smiling like two lunatics when you managed to come up for air. “I like you a lot, too, you goofball,” You whisper, your nose pressed against his still, like if you pull away any farther, you might lose any oxygen in your lungs. He was your only air right now, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he pulled you onto his lap. You place more short kisses against his lips.

“So…” He’s breathing heavily, his heart hammering against his chest. You can feel it as your hand rests above his collarbone, your fingers fiddling with the collar of his t-shirt. “Does that mean I can be yours?” He asks, bouncing his brows a couple times for added effect. You giggle, your cheeks warm against the cool night air.

“Yes, definitely–”

You’re cut off as a loud pop-bang! startles you, causing you to bristle like a cat on high alert. Your head whips around for the source of the sound and you spot the fizzling red sparklers hanging in the sky, dotting into the stars like a temporary constellation. Oh! The fireworks show had started.

“Jumpy cat,” Osamu teases as he pats your thigh comfortingly. You slap his bicep lightly, not enough to hurt or even sting, and turn on top of his legs to stare at the sky as more of the fireworks shoot off, dazzling colors of any color you can picture painting the sky.

“Shut up,” You mumble, but you’re smiling still. You couldn’t not, feeling too elated. This was like a dream. A warm feeling in your stomach told you this night would be permanently burned in your memories, a mural laser-carved into your cerebral cortex even when you’re ninety and developing amnesia. Maybe everything in your high school and short-lived college career was worth it. The long nights, the stress, the sobbing fits all reduced to a speck of some negative time you couldn’t even fully recall.

One of Samu’s hand hold you securely as you both watch the fireworks show, his other circling around your stomach to lace your fingers together again. Every now and then, he’d squeeze your palm. I’m here.

You squeezed him back.

You’re here.

The show continued for roughly an hour, ranging from loud and dramatic fireworks to sparklers and popping showers that make your eyes sparkle. You marvel at it all, and when it finally finishes with a flourish of white fireworks resembling hearts, you stand up from the bleachers. “Come on,” You tug on Samu’s hand.

“You kidnappin’ me now, darlin?” He asks as he follows willingly, grabbing your half-full drink before he does so. You laugh, shaking your head briefly.

“I’m sorry, I thought as my boyfriend, you’d want to walk me home,”

“I’ll do more than just take you home, if ya let me,” He replies smoothly, leaning in to kiss your cheek. A blush dusts your face, burning a bright red that makes you want to melt into a puddle. Samu chuckles as you stammer.

You huff, giving up on words, and fall into step beside him. The night was calm as you both make your way to the dormitory buildings, the hammering in your heart eventually fading into a soft pattering…

| three years later...

———

previous | masterlist

extras:

after the timeskip, osamu had already graduated, and y/n is still studying

samu decided to confess bc, well, he saw how well y/n was doing and had to get it out lol

(i was tempted to add a part abt y/n texting lev abt samu after the timeskip, but i figured the short and sweet ending fit better :p)

taglist: closed

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murdock-and-the-sea · 10 months

Text

noctuary · henry x reader

noctuary (n.)

the record of a single night's events, thoughts, or dreams

summary: you're a young vampire, turned against your will and abandoned by your sire. henry has taken you in, and while you're thankful for his mentorship, there's a certain kind of tension building between the two of you

pairing: henry x reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI. swearing. mentions of blood (duh), one dead fox (sorry), horny vampires, smut, lots of biting (not sorry), kisses, sucking, marking, oral (f rec), filthy kiss, p in v, outdoor sex, you name it sugar

a/n: so I love different vampire myths/lore and obviously, I had to make up a few things for this fic to work. most of my inspiration came from the vampire: the masquerade ttrpg/video games series which I ADORE and uh, this was a lot of fun to write! so there's quite a bit of plot to this. ...oops? Also, some spoilers for the horribly dumb but still somehow entertaining movie that is eat locals.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

The world felt inky black under the thick canopy of the trees, broken occasionally by the moonlight shining through a few patches, but you found your way easily, your eyes adjusting to the dark. The air was warm, heavy and damp with summer and the scent of flowers and grass hanging all around.

You’ve been walking for an hour or two now, heading deeper into the woods to clear your thoughts. You weren’t sure if it was working.

But you needed a little space.

The past few months have been hard, to say the least. You remembered walking home late one night, lost in your thoughts - and then, your next memory was waking up on the side of an abandoned road, curled up in pain as your whole body was wrecked by cramps, shivers and the deepest, most ferocious hunger that you have ever felt in your life.

It was sheer luck that Henry and Sebastian found you, dragging you with them, fleeing the impending dawn as you fell in and out of consciousness, too weak to struggle.

You could still recall that hunger, fighting to take over you until you felt the metallic taste of blood pooling on your tongue - that sinister-sweet, dark pleasure filling you, a single drop falling from the corner of your mouth and the crimson shadow that Henry covered over his wrist.

Even though he wasn’t your sire, a bond formed between you two.

A strong one.

One that was hard to ignore, even now as you tried to get as far away from him as possible, making your way through the undergrowth.

It’s not that you weren’t thankful. Without their help, you surely wouldn’t have made it through that first night. But it was hard to take it all in. The fact that vampires exist felt like the plot to a terrible movie, and whether you liked it or not, it was your reality now.

It was demanding getting used to your new life, both physically and mentally. To control your hunger, no matter how strong ancient instincts were gnawing at your bones. To keep to the darkness.

To play by the rules.

The Council graciously spared your life under the sole condition that Henry was now responsible for you.

Teaching you. Guiding you. Guarding and providing for you until you’re fit to receive your own territory. And your own place among the new Eight.

And you were grateful for his mentorship, truly. But he was - how could you put it?

Overbearing.

Of course, there was much to learn - from the history of what you’ve become, to your new-found abilities, and Henry took his time explaining it all. But he was always with you, shadowing your every move. On some nights, he allowed you outside, teaching you how to feed, how to blend in with the shadows. But most of the time he saw it best if you stayed inside, where you could be kept safe despite you frequently voicing your disagreement.

It was patronizing, and it was driving you insane. The fact that he saved your life was already enough to make you feel indebted to him for eternity - even if you’ve thanked him numerous times, and he never mentioned or taunted you with it. But it was there, hanging thickly in the air between you.

Just a few days back, you were out hunting, crouching together in the shadows on the outskirts of the forest. Motionless, you waited for something, anything, to cross your path.

You swallowed thickly at the memory of Henry’s body pressed tightly to yours, his breath fanning your face. Vaguely, you were aware of him talking, the low whisper in your ear sending shivers through your very core.

Then, a low chuckle, a smirk on his face when he realized you didn’t hear a single word of what he was saying. Even as he scolded you, all you could think about was how fucking close his lips were to your skin; and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to get closer or farther away from it.

Nevertheless, all that close proximity wasn’t doing you any favors. You felt tense, all your frustration pent-up and ready to burst. More and more often you caught yourself looking at Henry, your gaze lingering over him: his face, his lips, his beard, down his neck before you caught yourself and turned abruptly away.

You’d sit there, frozen in silent horror, begging all higher powers that this be no more than a passing infatuation.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Yet sometimes, just sometimes, when you couldn’t bear it anymore and let your eyes wander to him again, you’d catch him staring right back at you. His expression unreadable, umber eyes darkening as he focused intently on you. Like a deer caught in the headlights, you’d gape back at him, fleeing the room with the lamest excuse tumbling out of your mouth.

Then, you’d close the door on yourself, laying in bed in the dark, thoughts racing as you wondered about the taste of his lips, or how that beard would feel against the soft skin of your thighs.

At sunset, Henry woke you from an uneasy sleep, to let you know he was going out for the night. Except this time, he wasn’t taking you along.

“Seba will keep you company.” he said, already halfway out the door when you snorted indignantly, muttering under your breath. He stopped, turning back slowly.

“What was that?” he asked, voice low and eyes flashing dangerously in the dusklight.

“Nothing.” you replied, and made sure it sounded as venomous as possible.

Henry took a step back into the room, towering over you.

“Good.” he said, and while he sounded calm, there was an underlying threat in his tone that made it crystal clear he was not up for your bullshit tonight. “I have something to take care of. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You could take me with you.”

God, you sounded so pathetic.

“This doesn’t concern you.” he said, leaving no room for argument. In a second, he turned his back on you, a whisper of a pain making room in your chest at how easy it was for him to be so dismissive of you. A sharp contrast to the yearning that seemed to burn every inch of your being, and you had to bite your tongue to not beg him to stay.

He looked back from the doorway, giving you one last warning.

“I’d better find you here when I’m back.”

Fuck him.

He was barely out of the house and you managed to convince Sebastian that you felt tired and wanted to be alone. You hoped Henry wouldn’t bite his head off for being naive enough to believe that lie.

Just to be sure, you waited a little before climbing out the window and made your way towards the woods. The cool night air, and the hike through the forest helped take your mind off of things at least. Not completely, of course, but it was nice.

It felt of freedom, even if there was a life to the forest; one the daylight would never let you see. Several hedgehogs crossed your path, hurrying on their way and you scared off an owl when a twig snapped under your boots.

Eventually, you reached your destination - a small creek cutting the forest in two, opening up the night sky. There was much more light here - the full moon rising high, illuminating the trees and breaking into a myriad pieces on the surface of the water.

You sat down on the riverbank, taking it all in. The clouds were clearing in the gentle wind, revealing the stars to you. Absent-mindedly, you pick up a small stone and throw it in the water. The splash scares up some critter hiding at the other bank and the leaves rustle under its paws as it scurries away.

For a few minutes, you just sit there, listening to the trickle of the stream and the occasional cricket chirping in the distance.

And then, you sense him, his presence looming behind you.

You’re not sure how far he was following behind because god damn it, you didn’t notice a thing. In fact, you’re pretty certain you only noticed him now because the bastard let you and that realization stirs up some old anger in you.

“What do you want?” you spat, refusing to spare him even a glance as you threw another stone.

“‘S nice to see you, too.”

“Go away.”

Another splash. He doesn’t move a muscle, of course - you’re in no position to order him around. It reminds you that you have no say in this game, no power. Instead of bickering, he simply sits down next to you, much to your surprise.

“I found a dead fox in the bushes. Was that you?”

You turn to him with a cold glare. “I’m not proud of it, y’know.”

Henry just chuckled. “Yeah, you’ll get used to it.”

You couldn’t help it. You were hungry, and taking what you needed from humans was not something you were ready to do. Pretty sure it wasn’t something you’d ever be ready for. At least there was no judgment from Henry for that. He was a firm believer that even as a vampire, one could still have standards - something he encouraged while mentoring you, too.

His voice dropped lower.

“I just want you to understand-”

“It’s fine.” you interrupted, throwing yet another stone. The words were venom on your tongue, except this time, you didn’t mean it. It just hurt.

Henry scoffed. “Can you stop being a brat for five minutes?”

“You don’t have to explain. I don’t care.”

Splash.

“But I do.”

“Don’t.” You raised your hand, ready to hurl another rock when he caught your wrist.

He wasn’t causing you any pain, just held on firmly when you struggled. You expected him to get angry. To yell. But when you looked over, ready to stare him down, to bicker until fucking dawn; there was something else in his eyes instead. Something soft, and caring - and it scared you.

With a huff, you tore your hand from his grasp. But you shut up.

Henry took a deep, uneasy breath.

“It happened only a few months before we found you, when there were still Eight of us. We met one night, to discuss some official matters. It was supposed to go all smoothly, far enough from town at a rural farmhouse.”

He snorted at the memory. “You’d think a handful of ancient vampires would know better, but we weren’t careful enough. I guess the past centuries made us a little too comfortable. A group of soldiers overwhelmed us.”

An awkward silence settled slowly, causing you to swallow against a sudden dryness in your throat. Never in your wildest dreams could you guess that something like this was behind his caution and sheltering. There were precautions to being a vampire, sure and the rules and quotas were in place to protect you, but still.

“A lot of my friends were killed that night.” He continued. “Only three of us survived - and Seba.”

“That was the night you met Sebastian?” you asked, incredulous.

“Yeah.” Henry looked over to you with concern. “Did he tell you about all this?”

“Just mentioned something in passing, once. Then panicked and refused to say anything else when I tried asking about it.”

“That sounds like him alright, yeah.”

“But what happened exactly?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it just as quickly, shaking his head. “One night, I will tell you. But I can’t, not now.”

He shifted closer, leaning in; you could almost feel his skin touching yours. If you tilted your head, just slightly-

“I- I can’t let that happen again. I couldn’t bear it. I can’t.”

You could practically hear your heart breaking over the pleading in his voice. “Henry…”

And there it was again. That gaze that seemed to see right through all the walls you’ve built, baring all your deepest desires. He was so close, impossibly close, his breath on the air, a whisper like a breeze.

“I can’t lose you.”

You moved before you could think. Just an inch forward, pressing your lips over his. His breath hitched and you braced yourself for inevitable disappointment; for refusal. You weren’t ready for the soft moan in the back of his throat, giving himself to you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, îngeraș*.” he muttered before slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you didn’t even try to resist him, almost high on his taste.

Where you were desperate, needy and giving in, he was now intense; almost controlling as he took over, one hand slipping to the back of your neck, lowering, pushing you down until the scent of wildflowers erupted around you as you hit the ground, the starry skies embracing you from above.

Panting heavily, Henry pulled away briefly only to look at you, eyes glowing in the dark before he practically attacked your clothes, stripping you of your shirt, your own hands busy with his belt, tearing off his coat, getting rid of anything that could come in your way.

He looked absolutely gorgeous; better than anything you could have ever imagined: his body bathed in the moonlight, muscles glistening with sweat. Your eyes dropped to his neck, then lower, down his chest, following that sweet happy trail and you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself anymore, reaching out - only for him to catch your wrists again.

“Not yet,” he taunted, kissing the inside of your wrists half-apologetically. “I know you’ve been waiting for this, angel, but I’m gonna make you earn it.”

You choked on a sound, opening your mouth to protest but he interrupted you.

“That’s right,” he added, amusement evident in his voice at your shocked expression. “You think I couldn’t hear you? Panting and writhing and whispering my name in the other room as you touched yourself?”

You could feel heat creeping across your face, half in embarrassment, half in defiance as you tried to wrestle your hand free.

“Fuck, Henry, just let me touch you-”

“No.” He said firmly, grabbing your other wrist, pinning your hands above your head with ease as he laid above you, his face a mere inches from yours. “If I’m to claim you, right here, you’re gonna lay there and take what I’m giving you and you’re gonna be a good fucking girl and obey, you hear me. Can you do that, huh? Just once?”

You smirked. “Make me.”

The growl he let out was carnal, fangs flashing before he bit down on your neck. You moaned at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your flesh, just shy from breaking skin but enough to leave a deep mark, a final claim to make you his.

He grinded his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing to your thighs and you practically whimpered, wanting to feel him inside you.

“You’re mine.” he whispered, pressing kisses over his mark, “mine.”

Then, a trail of open mouthed kisses leading to your collarbone, your breasts, and he brought your hands down with his, fingers intertwined with yours to keep you in your place. You were a squirming, whimpering mess as he toyed with your nipples, fangs barely scraping your skin before he took them in his mouth, suckling on them, coaxing the most delicious sounds from you.

You clenched around nothing, needy and craving more as you tried to get some friction, grinding against him. One last lick, his eyes closed as he hummed in appreciation, his tongue slowly sliding over the soft skin of your breasts.

He was hunger itself, feral on the scent of your arousal as he slid lower, leaving small bites all over your stomach and sides, and you moaned louder and louder each time his fangs sinked into your flesh, practically crying with need.

And fuck, if it didn’t feel good to know you had this affect on him, the power to make him drop to his knees and worship every inch of your body with his mouth, his breath damp against your skin.

“Henry, please.”

One last bite, harder than the others, a low growl warning you to let him take what he needs, craves, wants. He squeezed your hands before finally letting go, laying flat on his stomach between your legs, eyes glowing with a fire like the stars above.

“Beautiful angel.” he said, arms wrapping around your thighs, holding you close, keeping you in place as he finally devoured you, dragging his tongue up between your folds, and you almost sobbed, lost in the pleasure.

Your hands scrambled until you found purchase in his hair, shamelessly guiding his movements as you rocked against him, your clit throbbing as he nipped and sucked on it. It felt like you could come any second, your whole body trembling with the force of it when he pulled away.

He wanted to give you more.

His beard was glistening with your arousal, and he made a half hearted attempt to wipe it away, only to reconsider, sucking his fingers greedily for every last drop. When he climbed over you, you couldn’t contain it anymore and reached out to cradle his face, pulling him in for a filthy kiss. He obliged happily, letting you get a taste of yourself.

He didn’t bother to warn you before he thrusted inside you, and fuck, it knocked the air right out of you, a choked sound in the back of your throat he swallowed readily. He filled you up completely, fitting so perfectly that there was no question he was made for you; born for you eons ago for this moment to make you lose yourself in him, his body, his yearning, his love.

He started rocking his hips, his eyes drawn to where your bodies met, watching his cock disappear in you, filling you with pleasure. He was drunk on your moans and the way his name hung on your lips, the way your hands looked for purchase so frantically, grabbing for his shoulders.

Panting, he picked up his pace, pounding into you harder, faster, deeper with each stroke, hissing, cursing softly under his breath when you dragged your nails down his back but fuck if he didn’t love it. It didn’t take long to get you close; the way you clenched around him, your eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming feeling of your whole body overcome with pleasure drove him over the edge too, the two of you cumming together, the clearing next to the creek loud with your grunts and moans.

Henry barely kept himself from collapsing over you, too greedy to pull out just yet, and you didn’t mind. You were high on euphoria, dizzy with pleasure, your hands lazily caressing his skin.

“We have to go.” he eventually said, softly, in-between featherlight kisses that he peppered along your neck.

He was right, you had to get back before sunrise.

“I want to stay like this forever.” you replied, the words tumbling out of you before you even realized.

“Don’t worry,” Henry said, smirking. “The dawn will find you in my arms, draga mea*; but not here.”

*îngeraș [romanian]: little angel

*draga mea [romanian]: my darling

@itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass 😘

#henry #eat locals #henry eat locals #henry x reader #eat locals fic #eat locals fanfic #v's scribbles

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xxnghtclls · 10 months

Text

Permission

Chapter 7

(Chapter 6; Chapter 8)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

A Chaste Kiss

Slumping naked on your bed, you can’t help but let the pressure out. Tears fall down onto your pillow and you can’t help but to think that you aren’t even mad at Sukuna. Not much at least. You are mostly mad at that bitch for making this already embarrassing situation even more embarrassing. You were just trying to present to your King as best as possible, to fulfil your oath to him. But the main reason you’re angry is: she was right.

You want him. The reactions he tickles out of your body with his mere presence and actions can’t deny that you, in fact, want him. In a way that you never thought of, in a way that you never wanted anybody. He’s like a drug and you’re the addict. You’re so lucky that never anyone actually took filthy advantage of you. Of course there were some that tried, but you could always fight them off. You can’t really explain why he makes you feel this way, yet he does. He just does.

Was it so obvious?

After some minutes of crying, you finally regained some self confidence. You went to the bowl of water thats seated in the corner of your room to splash some of it onto your face and forearms. It made you feel better immediately. With swollen eyes, you gathered your clothes to put them on again. It was time for your duties anyway and you couldn’t let your pride be kicked away like a bucket of water by that bitch. Once your kimono sat perfectly, you went out back into the halls.

Snip.

You cut an ugly branch off a bush that’s seated near the entrance to Sukuna’s room. You always try your best to keep the area around the door especially tidy. Cutting off dead or unwanted branches, keeping them in a nice form. Most of the trees and bushes don’t carry leaves anymore since it’s gotten more cold. This November was exceptionally cold, compared to the others before. Somehow, the shrine itself wouldn’t get freezing cold, although there were openings in the hall walls, that would let the cold air from outside come in easily.

You hear soft footsteps coming your way. Turning around, you see another maiden, one you’ve seen in the kitchen sometimes, make her way into the garden. She carries a bucket, probably wants to fetch some water for cooking. Your eyes meet and she smiles at you. Not having conversations often, it seems that she wants to tell you something. You greet her while walking towards the well.

“You ... actually did great in there.” she whispers “Most girls start to bore him or run away.”

“Is he... doing this to every girl that comes here?” you ask, while watching her let the bucket down the well.

“Only the ones he shows a different kind of interest in.” Splash.

“Uh..huh” you say mindlessly, as the bucket fills with water.

“You know what happened after you left? He shoved the fingers he used to... you know, ... touch you... into her mouth. He made her suck them and threatened her because she spoke without him allowing it. He actually made her gag on his fingers.”

Hearing what she said, you try your best to hide the smile building up in your face.

“I knew it would make you feel better to hear that.” she said with a wink, while pulling the bucket back up.

I really am an open book.

“Thank you” you say while a blush paints your cold cheeks. The other maiden bows her head at you and leaves.

The day went on and after rustling some fallen leaves together and scrubbing the floor of halls a bit, the sun set. Since it was a already a cloudy day, dark and grey, you almost missed the time to get his dinner ready. The situation this morning definitely didn’t help, but you figured, that it would be better not to think about it too much.

Pushing the cart over the stone floor again, you get lost in thought about his face, the way the light reflected on his features, the little wrinkles on his eyes as he smirked, while his hand was busy sliding through your folds. His eyes staring so intently into yours. As if it was only you two there.

What would if feel like if it really were only us two?

You proved your will and your intention to Sukuna. If it just wasn’t for that bitch, he wouldn’t have seen your weaker side. That bothers you the most.

Arriving at his chambers door, you knock.

Knock Knock Knock

No answer. Like usual.

You notice his energy. It’s different, but different in a way you felt it before. Last time when he...

was busy.

Fuck.

On your knees, you slide the door open. It’s pretty quiet in there.

Having your gaze locked onto your hands, you push the cart in and as you do so, you suddenly hear soft slurping noises. Smacking of lips onto skin. Soft groaning. Breathing.

Five steps into the room your hands leave the handle of the cart. You hesitate. Somehow you feel his energy creep up your neck, almost as if its grabbing your jaw to pull your face into the direction of the sounds. You try to fight it, but

fuck it.

You look.

Your King is laying on his bed, butt naked. His legs are splayed apart, his head rests on big cushions behind him. Following his gaze you see the bitch. She’s kneeling between his legs. Between his massive thighs, black rings tattooed on them. Sucking him. Pumping him. You can’t really see, because her hair is covering his private parts. One hand of his is playing with a strand of her hair, another resting on the back of her head. His remaining two arms are resting elevated on the cushion behind him.

He’s calm, breathes deeply, groaning occasionally. His eyes are half lid.

You don’t know if you’re shocked, aroused or angry. Seeing him like this, with her, but you decide to just stand there and watch. You stare until suddenly, your King softly turns his head to look at you. You look at him. You remember, you broke the rule, but instead of shying away, you keep staring. Sukuna’s eyes pierce into yours as he slowly starts breathing faster, louder. Rising his head a bit to get a better view of you, his eyes soften and his pupils paint his eyes black. Being normal before, his pupils start to dilate even more the more he looks at you. His eyebrow starts to cut wrinkles into the space above his nose, his mouth slowly opens more, the deeper and more frequent he needs to breathe. Your King’s face is painted in pleasure. You notice the bottom pair of his eyes are not looking into yours, but wander all over your body. The tattoos on his chest falling and rising with every breath he takes, every groan he vocals. Seeing him like this, hearing him like this, it turns you on. It feels like he’s gaining pleasure from... from looking at you, not from feeling her. You clench your thighs together. He notices, his remaining eyes shoot down to your cunt.

A growl.

Your breath hitches. Wetness starts to pool between your folds and you can’t help but stare at him longingly. The room is still filled with obscene noises from her sucking and kissing and slurping. Your fingers fumble nervously with the fabric of your kimono and your pulse starts to quicken. His right hand slowly moves along the fabric of his bed towards you, as his eyes shoot back up to look into yours laying his head down back into the cushion again. The energy that still has a grip on your jaw, pulls you in. Slowly you take a step forward, quietly, eyes never leaving each other. A lustful grin grows on Sukuna’s face. His bottom pair of hands move down to the bitch’s jaw and neck, keeping her steady, preventing any movement she could come up with, except her sucking. Approaching the edge of the bed, you quietly slide down to your knees, his hand inches away. He turns his hand so that his palm is facing you, inviting you. Taking all the courage you have in you, you lean down, hesitating before your face reaches his hand. Your King‘s mouth twitches while his eyes jump up and down between you and his hand. His expression challenges you and you understand. You lean down further, to place a chaste kiss on his fingertips. Your soft lips touching his skin, while you still look into his eyes make him vocal a loud growl again, followed by a chuckle. He shifts his feet onto the surface of the bed, his right thigh now separating you from her. His expression changes into a determined one, groaning under his breath. Bucking his hips up, he starts to thrust into her throat. Faster, harder. She starts to gag. He doesn’t care.

Still looking at you, his thighs start to shake, his growls grow louder. Captivated by his expression, you just stare, looking back at him with doe eyes.

“Fuck” he growls, this time breaking eye contact and leaning his head back. Snapping back into reality you realise it’s time for you to go. You’ve broken enough rules already and he might as well punish you for it later. Quietly you leave the room as fast as you can and realise you almost hold your breath for the entire time, as you slide the door shut.

What the fuck just happened?

You just stand there breathing heavily, standing right outside his door. The whole situation crashes down on you like a hammer.

His fingers felt so soft under your lips. His eyes, challenging you to break one rule after another, his whole being excites you. Sukuna’s way of giving you attention like this, while ignoring her, make you forget the ounce of anger you felt towards him this morning. You shake your head, still thinking this all was a dream.

Tiptoeing back to the door of your chamber, you hear his door open. You freeze, as you just wanted to open your own. Soft tapping on the floor tells you that it must be her, not him. You just turn your head slightly, looking behind you through the corner of your eyes. Tapping away into the halls naked, with just her clothes pressed against her chest, she shoots you a deadly look.

Fucking bitch.

You smile to yourself, still hesitating to open your door.

He’s alone now.

The wetness between your thighs still present, you think of breaking another rule. You’ve already broken a lot tonight. He will surely let you know if you’re not welcome, however, the King’s eyes spoke something different earlier. Curiosity is a pain in the ass sometimes. Especially paired with lust and want and passion.

You decide to turn around.

With a heavy beating heart, you softly knock on his door. Barely audible.

#Permission #permission chapters #true form sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #true form sukuna x you #true form sukuna x reader #fanfiction #slowburn

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ants-personal · 6 months

Text

Imagining a time in which benson and randy where on the closing shift together. Everything went as smoothly as it could during dinner course chris and jess would leave as soon as the manger was out of the lot "I can count on you to clean the kitchen for me right Bradley ;) make me loook good" leaving randy and benson to lock up and clean up.

Benson just doing hes usual slow half ass job cleaning the lobby while randy would take it upon himself to count the inventory. Hes never been assigned it and he really had to teach himself both mangers not caring to but he finds it sorta relaxing sucks now he has to clean thw entire kitchen drive thru and hell late going home.

He already called his mother to let her know and shes not happy about it but he can deal with it later. Getting lost counting all the dry goods in the back. He assumes hes alone in the building besons not rude enough not to say bye but if he finished he probably wouldnt go out of his way to see randy in the back to say bye. And he wouldnt blame him for just leaving.

He would try and grab something from the top shelve but its just to high so hed have to get the stool. Turning to ace his clip board down jumping and stumbling back a bit with a squeak seeing benson leaning in the doorway one arm crossed while he rest his fingers over his chin.

Both are silent for a moment randy getting his heartrate back down taking a deep breath as benson stares before readjusting himself to crosing his arms

"Sorry, bradley didnt mean to scare ya."

"No..no im- its fine. I um.. just thought you already is all."

"I just finished the lobby."

"Okay.. thanks." Randy nods slightly with a quick smile. Bensons eyes flicker like he searching randys face for.. something aniexty spiking he clenchs and unclench his fists " So ill see you monday."

Benson nods slowly watching him with his eyes as he walks across the room to grab the step stool. He purposly avoids eye contact sparing quick glances. Hes never been afraid of benson sure hes intimating with the whole quiet stand offish personality, but hes never given a reason to actually fear him.

"You really gonna clean up after chris and the others?" Benson sighs taking a step towards randy as he climbs up to grab a box half filled with cups. Arms still crossed as he looks up from under his hats visor.

" Um.. I- uh i guess yeah but..but i dont mind" He stumbles off the stool box in hand turning to benson with a shrug.

Bensons takes a deep breath and sighs arm falling to his side as he runs his forehead under his hat. Randy sets the box down and picks up his clipboard he chews his lip as he looks at the sleeves of cups about to open his mouth to say anything something to end this conversation.

"Okay" Benson breaths out readjusting his hat before turning to leave.

Randy lifts his head to watch hin go rolling the pencil betwen his fingers. Hes not sure why his nerves are firing away fighting benson hadnt done anything maybe he sounded slightly irritated but he always did working unless he was saying bye.

He hadnt said bye.

Randy quickly throws the box back on the shelve. Scrambling to grab his clipboard and rushing out of the back as quickly and queistly as he could. He scans the lobby and it looks well as best as it could but turning towards the window.

There still parked next to his car is the yellow buick. But no sign of benson inside or near it. Randys grip tightens on his board knuckles turning white as he tries to shilwd himself from what hes not sure with its filmsy wood.

Suddenly loud rock music starts blasting from the back. Randy turning slowly towards the enterance nerves calming as confusion washes over him. He licks his lips before moving towards the entrance glancing around the corner eyes widening at the sight.

Its benson hes turned hisbhat backwards cigarette resting between his lips as he bops his head to music throwing dishes the sink with little regard and turning on the tap.

Randy fullt stands in the doorway now he isnt even aware of the small smile on his face. Hes never seen benson so .. lively its nice. Warmth spreads throughtout his body snd he shakes his head hes not sure what that was but hell deal with it .. later as well.

Fully stepping into the kitchen area benson noticing him with a nod and raise of his eyes brows. Moving clean dished at least to a bin hes outs on the counter. Taking a deep drag of his cigarette removing it from his mouth.

"Finish counting?" He barely says liuder then the music with slight tilt of his head.

Randy blinks a few times he was so engrossed in watching he wasnt ready to part lf another conversation.

" I-uh yeah.. well no actually. I have to do the freezer and um fridge." He points with the pencil behind benson where the side room breaks off to the doors. " But i just ... i can do all this. Ahem- I dont want to keep you or anything." Hes not even sure if benson heard him over the music hes not exactly shouting.

He swears he can see benson at least grim behind his hand as he brings his cigarette back up for a moment but its gone when he stubs it on the counter and tosses it in the bin. Looking back up with a shake of his head

"Just hurry up so we both can go home Brad" Turning back to the sink and spraying whatever dishes are left. Randy nods even if benson cant see him and quickly rushes to the fridge closing the door behind him leaning against it. All while hearing the muffled music and banging he could only hope is part of the cleaning.

#no included is randy seeing benson clean the grill all sweaty and hot that randy will deal with Later this got away from me oops #the passenger #the passenger 2023 #randy x benson #randy bradley #passenger benson #kyle gallner #this was suppose to be oNE PARAGRAPH idea but i will make it a full fic i have so many scenes #ant posts stuff

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saintmurd0ck · 2 years

Text

columbia calling | matt murdock x reader | one-shot

masterlist

a/n: new post format? kinda?! this one was based on a dream i had, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did <3333

summary: you call your best friend to tell her you're in love with your college best friend

Considering that it’s finals week, your corner of the library is unusually quiet; the intoxicating romance of dark wood and leather-bound books amplified by the silence. There’s a sunny spot, by the large arched window at the end of the room, and you make your way over, bag thumping softly on the hard table.

You play off your sharp inhale as ‘allergies’ as Matt takes a seat next to you, leg brushing against yours, the tingle in your spine reaching the back of your eyes.

Chewing your lip, you glance at him from the corner of your eye as you dig through your bag, pulling out the book you’ve been neglecting all year. This is your chance to finally finish it, to get lost in the magic, all while being here, trapped in the fantasy that was your crush on Matt.

As a second-year law student, you’d seen Matt around a fair bit, always adorable with his cane in hand, always scoring the best marks in your classes. You weren’t sure exactly when you fell for him, but after that one torts tutorial at the start of this year, and the way his friend Foggy had introduced Matt to you?

The rest was history.

You were inseparable beyond that point... and your crush grew exponentially.

Matt nudges you, the touch jolting you back to earth. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Leaning back in the chair, the wooden supports digging into your back, you flick open your book, finger hovering over the last sentence you remember reading. “Not homework, thankfully. I’m reading!”

Matt’s expression is quizzical, then almost horrified. “It’s finals week! How do you have any time to relax? Fog and I haven’t gone out once this week.”

You chuckle, tapping his leg with your foot. “You know, it’s important to have days off, Matty.”

Matt’s ears turn pink, coaxing a stifled laugh out of you, and he bites his lip, finger gliding across the pages of the textbook. Your book is open, but you don’t look at any of the words. Your gaze lingers on him, at the way his nose scrunches when he’s focusing, at the way his tongue snakes out to wet his lips. He turns his chin towards you, ever-so-slightly, and you almost drop the book, irrationally scared that he’ll catch you looking.

Sucking your cheeks in, you pore over the words in the book, feeling yourself captivated in the story; surrounded by nothing but your imagination, the sun filtering in behind you, and Matt by your side.

A few moments go past before he taps on your shoulder, pulling you away from the pages with a smile.

“Sorry, um, could you help me with this?”

“Of course,” you nod, listening as he reads you the question.

Your eyebrows pinch together, brain rattling as you think of the answer. It takes you a minute to think about it, but you share your thoughts with him, watching as his face moves from confusion to understanding.

He flashes you a pearly grin, and your name rolls off his tongue. “You’re so smart, you know that?”

Your stomach flips as his compliment washes over you, cheeks burning hot. “Says the guy who’s at the top of every class,” you say, slapping his arm playfully.

He chuckles, the sound ringing in your ears, making your heart swell. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He shakes his head, before continuing. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You swallow thickly, his words pounding into your chest, head spinning so fast you’re dizzy.

In your lovedrunk stupor, you mumble a quick ‘excuse me’ as you rush out of the library, novel barely inside your bag, pulling your phone out as you dial your best friend’s number.

You make it to the side of the building in a hurry, face hot, the back of your neck burning as you watch the buttery sunlight illuminate the back of Matt’s head, rich chocolate tones warming you inside out.

Your giddy squeal is the first thing your best friend hears when she picks up.

“Everything okay?!” she asks, giggle tickling your ears.

“Yes,” you breathe, taking a few shallow breaths, the butterflies in your stomach tossing, “I think…”

“Hmm?”

You bite your lip, grin stretching large. “Yeah… I’m in love.”

Your best friend gasps, and you can feel her smile. “Did something happen between you two?!”

Breathless and shaking your head, training one eye on Matt as he buries his head in his work, you stutter. “N-no! Well I don’t know. But I don’t care.”

Your shoes crunch on the gravel path as you start your walk back to your dorm, beaming, goosebumps breaking out on your arms. “I just know I’m in love.”

And as you walk off, Matt’s finger continues to move across the textbook, his own heart stuttering as he hears your conversation.

Your words burn in his mind, embedding themselves in the fabric of his being.

Any person would think him crazy if they saw his smile.

Even though there’s no one around, he drops his voice to a whisper, saying your name in indulgence. “Yeah, I‘m in love with you too.”

tags {x} @murdocksluvrr @pedrito-friskito

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #college matt murdock #netflix daredevil #matt murdock x you #rhi writes 💻#x reader

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hd-junglebook · 2 months

Text

Lost

Part 2

word count - 1958

The morning sun began peeking over the horizon, Y/N stirred awake, the blazing sun began beating down on her and the survivors on the exposed beach. The exhausted survivors had all eventually succumbed to sleep right there on the open beach, too drained to find shelter.

Y/N sat up, brushing sand off her clothes as she took in the first light of day. Despite the wreckage scattered down the shoreline, the sunrise over the now calm ocean was peaceful and almost blindingly bright after the dark storm.

Needing to move and gather her thoughts, Y/N decided to take a walk along the water's edge. She hadn't gone far when movement up ahead caught her eye.

As Y/N walked down the beach, she noticed the tall, curly-haired guy with freckles emerging from the tree line carrying coconuts. His muscular arms cradled several coconuts as he made his way towards the makeshift camp. She altered her course and approached him.

"Hey stranger, I don't think we were properly introduced last night. I'm Y/N," she acknowledged, the waves blending into each other behind her.

The guy set down the coconuts and turned to her with a hint of a smirk. "Bellamy. No need for introductions though, I think we're a bit past pleasantries at this point." His tone had a sarcastic edge.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at his snarky remark but continued politely. "Well, still, I wanted to say thanks for your help out there Bellamy. We need to work together if we want to survive." Bellamy let out a derisive huff.

"Yeah, 'cause sitting around singing kumbaya is really going to get us out of this mess. We need to figure out how to actually live out here, princess."

Y/N crossed her arms, put off by his abrasiveness. "Fine, if you have a better idea then please share with the group. Otherwise we could use some more coconuts."

She gave him a challenging look. Bellamy's dark eyes glinted with a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Whatever the hell you want," he retorted.

Y/N shook her head and continued her walk. So much for pleasantries. Bellamy's attitude clearly said he wasn't here to make friends. She hoped they could eventually find some common ground.

---

Y/N headed back to rejoin the group of survivors, hoping to raise the idea of building shelter. When she reached the ragged encampment, she saw Bellamy had already returned and was sitting off to the side looking irritated, as always.

She addressed the crowd. "It's only going to get hotter. We need to start thinking about constructing some basic cover and finding food and water sources." There were murmurs of assent among the group.

"We can use salvaged luggage and plane debris," Y/N continued. "Does anyone have other ideas?"

From his corner, Bellamy scoffed loudly. "Yeah, I've got a question. Who put you in charge, princess? We don't need your orders."

Y/N shot him a glare. "I'm not ordering anyone. I'm trying to help figure out a survival plan, since no one else is taking the initiative."

Bellamy stood up and stalked towards her. "Well maybe we should have an actual vote, instead of letting you appoint yourself leader." His dark eyes bored challengingly into hers.

Tension crackled between them. Before Y/N could respond, another voice spoke up, defusing the situation. The blonde, you found out was named Clarke, suggested a systematic approach to organizing the shocked survivors, and assigning roles.

Clarke approached Y/N separately from the group, her eyes filled with determination. "I saw smoke coming from the woods yesterday," she said, her voice hushed but urgent. "There could be more survivors out there. We should gather a group and head out to search while everyone else works on getting things set up here."

Y/N was taken aback by Clarke's suggestion. She eyed the now working survivors, some of whom were injured and others who were still recovering from the trauma of losing their loved ones.

“We should bring others with us, Bellamy, Jasper, maybe Raven too.” With a swift look around, she sucked in a deep breath before speaking again. “We'll leave in five, okay?” she stated before grabbing her bag.

Y/N headed over to where Bellamy was shirtless, his muscles glistening with sweat as he worked on constructing shelters from the bamboo.

She couldn't help but notice the gun tucked into his waistband. Clearing her throat, Y/N approached him, her gaze flickering briefly to the weapon before meeting his eyes. To her surprise, she found him smiling, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Y/N wasted no time in getting to the point. "I need you to come with us to the woods," she stated bluntly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "You have a gun, and we might need it out there."

Bellamy's grin widened at her directness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he nodded exaggeratedly. "Oh, lucky me," he replied with a mockingly enthusiastic tone. "Just what I've always wanted - a chance to play hero in the wilderness."

Despite his sarcastic demeanor, there was a hint of seriousness in Bellamy's expression as he straightened up, his gaze meeting Y/N's with a determined glint.

"Alright, I'll grab my gear," he conceded, his tone more earnest now. "Just give me a minute." With a roll of her eyes, Y/N watched as Bellamy gathered his supplies.

---

The relentless heat of the jungle weighed heavily on Y/N's shoulders as she trudged through the dense foliage alongside Bellamy, Raven, Clarke, and Jasper. The suffocating humidity seemed to sap their energy with every step, but they pressed on, driven by the hope of finding more survivors or supplies.

After what felt like an eternity of trekking through the sweltering wilderness, Y/N's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something metallic glinting through the thick canopy of trees. “No way.” She exclaimed, she motioned to the others, their pace quickening as they raced towards the source of the glimmering light.

They burst into the clearing, Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the downed plane, its twisted wreckage strewn across the valley, but the cockpit was untouched in the tall trees.

Raven quickly took up a position to keep watch, while Clarke excused herself to tend to a pressing matter, leaving Y/N and Bellamy to investigate the cockpit.

"We need to check the cockpit," she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Let's go." Bellamy nodded as he followed Y/N, their hands and feet finding purchase on the gnarled branches as they ascended. After what felt like an eternity of precarious climbing, they finally reached the cockpit.

With a determined nod, Bellamy took charge, his muscles tensing as he prepared to breach the cockpit door. "Stand back," he instructed Y/N, his voice firm as he readied himself. With a powerful kick, Bellamy broke through the door, the metal groaning in protest as it gave way to reveal the scene inside.

Y/N's heart lurched at the sight of the unconscious pilot slumped over the controls, his hands limp and lifeless.

She pushed Bellamy aside, rushing into the cockpit as she checked for any signs of life. She placed her ear over his face, his light breaths fanning her face. "He's alive," she announced.

the pilot stirred to consciousness, his eyes flew open in terror, his body jolting upright in a panic. Y/N and Bellamy rushed to his side, their hands gently but firmly restraining him as they tried to calm his frantic movements.

"Easy now," Y/N urged soothingly, her voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're safe. You're with us."

Bellamy echoed her sentiments, his voice steady as he reassured the pilot that he was in good hands. Outside, Raven's voice cut through the trees, her concern palpable as she called out to them.

"Is everything okay in there?" she yelled with urgency. Bellamy quickly responded, his voice carrying a note of assurance. "Yes, we're fine," he called back, his words intended to allay Raven's fears.

As the pilot's breathing gradually slowed, he sputtered, his voice hoarse as he struggled to speak. "What... what happened?" he mumbled, confusion evident in his eyes. Y/N exchanged a glance with Bellamy, her mind racing with the weight of their predicament.

But before she could respond, the pilot began to recount the events of the crash, his words painting a grim picture of their desperate situation. Y/N leaned in closer, her eyes locked on his as she listened intently.

He explained that the plane had lost radio contact six hours after takeoff, prompting a desperate turn back towards Fiji. But before they could reach safety, they had encountered unexpected turbulence, sending the aircraft hurtling towards the ground.

“We need to figure out how to get a message out for help." Bellamy nodded silently, his gaze scanning the cramped confines of the cockpit for any sign of a communication device. strange roaring noise echoed through the jungle outside of the cockpit. The pilot was seized by something outside the plane, his screams piercing the air with terror.

Y/n let out a scream almost stumbling out of the cockpit. Bellamy wasted no time, grabbing the transceiver and fled from the cockpit and pulling y/n along with him as they scrambled down from the tree.

"Raven! Clarke! Run!" Y/N yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice a desperate plea as she and Bellamy sprinted through the dense foliage.

Raven and Clarke snapped their necks at the sounds of the creature. their eyes widening in alarm as they caught sight of the fear etched on Y/N and Bellamy's faces. Both of broke out into a run, their footsteps echoing through the underbrush as they raced to safety.

Y/N's heart sank at the sight of Jasper, frozen in place amidst the trees.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she called out to him. "Jasper! Run!" she shouted, but it was too late. At the sound of her voice, Jasper's eyes widened in fear, and he turned on his heel, bolting through the trees in a blind panic.

The branches smacked her in the face as she ran, sweat making her shirt heavy. She could hear Jasper's heavy breathing and the sound of his feet pounding against the forest floor.

Jasper stumbled and fell to the ground Y/N looked back, debating her choices before she turned back, her feet carrying her swiftly to Jasper's side.

“Jasper come on, we have to go. Please!” she begged, Jasper's body shook as he tried to speak, but no words came out. Jasper took a deep breath and finally spoke. “I...I can't do this anymore, Y/N. Leave me.”

Anger filled y/n’s body as she heard the creature roar again. “Shut up Jasper, get up.” With Y/N's support, Jasper struggled to her feet, her eyes wide with terror as she clung to Y/N's arm for support, their legs pushing through the tangled undergrowth.

Bellamy and Raven continued to run, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they pushed themselves to the limit. Fear coursed through their veins, driving them forward with a singular focus - survival.

After what felt like an eternity, the unseen monster finally relented, its presence fading into the depths of the jungle. With a collective sigh of relief, the group reunited, their faces pale as they surveyed their surroundings.

Their relief was short lived as they turned their gaze upwards, they recoiled in horror at the sight that greeted them - the pilot's mangled body suspended in a treetop.

Silence descended over the group as they took in the gruesome scene before them. Raven recoiled at the sight, gagging next to Clarke as she said, “"Guess that's what they mean by 'flying high,' huh?”

---

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