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#even with his stupid tilted hat
dr0wninthefear · 10 months
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listen some of you wouldn’t get it, but those that do 🤝🏼
also the fact that he still uses the glittery letters on his guitars ☹️ he’s so special to me do you understand???!
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midnightarcheress · 2 months
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cowgirl
a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much
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"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.
the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.
"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."
you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.
"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."
you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"
"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."
Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.
"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.
"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"
after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience. 
you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.
eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.
what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.
Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.
Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.
the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.
Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.
three minutes and forty-seven seconds.
"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken. 
"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.
the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague. 
"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.
your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.
after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.
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okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...
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noearchives · 3 months
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sober me up
(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)
characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.
portgas d. ace
"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”
you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.
“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”
he pauses. “can i?”
fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?
so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.
when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.
“let’s do that again.”
trafalgar d. water law
law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.
he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.
“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”
“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.
“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.
"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.
at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.
"ah, young love." penguin sighs.
sanji
being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.
"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)
the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."
miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"
... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.
though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)
"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.
"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.
sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.
the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.
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bokutosbiceps · 6 months
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don't be afraid to catch feels
eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji  x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words
warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit
a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !!  might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget
NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!
18+ MDNI | under the cut for length
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eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.
everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.
kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.
kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.
luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you. 
you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.
“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”
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monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.
“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.
“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”
luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually. 
he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.
“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.
“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.
“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.
“different with who?”
“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”
“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?” 
“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”
robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!
luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.
you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.
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roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.
he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first. 
but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.
he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong. 
when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.
“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.
“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.
“luffy doesn’t know—”
“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”
zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.
“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.
you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek. 
“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”
“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.
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trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them. 
and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.
you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you. 
“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”
you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”
bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it. 
a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.
it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.
“that damn bear…”
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usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal. 
“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”
“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.
“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”
usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.
you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.
“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.
“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.
“what’s on your mind, usopp?”
“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”
a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.
“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.
“no, but you just did.”
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vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.
sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous. 
when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.
“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”
you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you.”
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taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup
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dante-mightdie · 6 months
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My (poorly written) BlueCollaredSimon! thought for you:
Simon’s halfway through his shift when he realizes he’s forgotten his lunch. It’s no skin off his back, he’s gone hungry through a shift before and besides he’s a grown man and can handle it. Except you, his sweet little thing, pull up to deliver his lunch that you made him, adorned with a sweet note written you wrote by hand.
He sits in the dirt, head tilted back against a wall and doesn’t move when he hears a car pull up. People come and go so he doesn’t react much. But when he hears your sweet voice his eyes open immediately. You’re standing over by Price and Soap and asking for him, sweetly holding up his lunch box. But what really has his attention is your dress, so flowy and beautiful on you, the blue fabric compliments you so perfectly. It drives him insane.
It ignites a fire in his belly when he watches Soap take off his hard hat and place it on your head.
“What are you doing here?” He asks as he approaches.
“You left your lunch,” You say, so innocent and sweet as you hold out the worn out blue bag. He takes it in one hand. He lets out a quick ‘thanks’ before he’s ushering you back to your car. He shuts the door for you once your in and watches you drive off.
Later that day as your preparing dinner he sneaks in behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck. You yelp and let out a harsh, ‘Jeez Simon you scared me!’ He can be pretty quiet for such a big guy.
“‘M sorry love, didn’t mean to scare ya,” He says softly, brushing your hair off your neck with a dirty hand, “Thank you for bringing my lunch, love. So sweet to me, more than I deserve. Always taking care of me, hm?”
“Always,” you say sweetly as you reach back to set one hand on his stubbly cheek. “But you were quite rude to me.”
“How so?” He grunts.
“You ushered me off like you didn’t want me there. You didn’t even give me a proper thank you,” You whine, “no goodbye kiss either.”
“‘M sorry, love. But you are right, I don’t want you there, ever. You are mine darling. Mine to look at, to touch, to take care of. If you need a hard hat you take mine you hear?”
“Jealous, jealous, jealous,” You tease as you stir the pot on the stove. “All this fuss over a hard hat.”
“‘S the principle of it, love,” He huffs.
You sigh and turn to face him, cupping his dirty cheeks. “Simon Riley, quit your fussing,” you say with a soft smile, “I’m all yours love, ok? I don’t want John or his stupid hard hat. Now, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready.”
what do you expect when you show up to his worksite in the pretty dress that he bought you with the money that he earned >:(
letting soap shamelessly check you out, smiling at him sweetly whilst he pants like a dog in heat
and then you let him put his hard hat on you and you giggled. you’ve never once shown interest in wearing simons hat.
so obviously he sulks for the rest of the day, feeling a little sorry for himself when he drags his feet into the kitchen where you’re making dinner
needs all your attention for the next few days and next time you go to his site, he keeps a hand planted on your ass and tells you to stay for his lunch break so you can sit in his lap and feed him <3
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bountydroid · 1 month
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Darlin' pt 4
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 5
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)
Description: Reader realizes her growing feelings for her traveling companion in Filly.
Notes: Okay, so I am SO proud of this part. Please let me know what you guys think. 
TW: Kinda angsty at the end.
"Find somethin' to do," Cooper says as he makes himself comfortable on a chair, watching the store across from him carefully. 
I huffed and crossed my arms before looking around. "A new shirt would be nice." I thought to myself as I looked down at my mud-covered clothing.
"You got any extra caps?" I asked, leaning up against the side of his chair.
"No." He responds shortly. 
I hummed in response. Just as I started to walk away I felt him grab my wrist, "Don't get into any trouble darlin'." He said, smirking, "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time. You'll scare away my target." 
Embarrassment crept up into my cheeks, "I'll be good." I mumbled. I was not sure If I was telling that to myself or him. Probably both to be honest, but it seemed to satisfy him as he let go of my arm. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up this job for him. He was finally warming up to me, and the idea of ruining that ate at the back of my mind.
Filly was an interesting town. It was packed to the brim with fiends and travelers alike. I couldn't help the nervousness that settled in my stomach as I got farther and farther away from my newfound companion. I felt safe with him, safer than I have ever felt in my life. Most people would think that strange. Safe with a ghoul? I thought back to the man who called me a freak for being with the ghoul as I blushed. He thought we were together. A couple. Butterflies found their way into my stomach as I thought about the possibility. Romance was something that I never thought I would experience beyond the tattered books my brother got me from a wandering trader.
"Stop being stupid, Y/n. He doesn't want you." I thought to myself.
Without any caps, I decided to find a place to sit and lay low. I was determined to stay out of trouble, so I found a nice tree to sit up against while I watched all the people go by. I found watching all the different kinds of people walk through extremely interesting. All different types of hair colors, hairstyles, clothing, and weapons. Not to mention odd couples, siblings, and partners. All the new experiences were overwhelming. I found myself sitting there watching for longer than expected. After I had my fill, I got up from the tree and started heading back to Cooper. 
"Right where I left you," I said to myself as his sitting form became clear. He had his hat covering most of his face, I assumed it was to avoid detection. The last town made it very clear that ghouls were not welcome.
As I made my over to him I saw his head tilt and his eyes peer up at me from under his hat. I smiled at him, "No trouble here."
He snorted in response as his eyes flickered over to the men wrestling each other across the way. "You might be the only one darlin'."
I leaned up against his chair again, letting some weight off of my feet. "My feet are-" I start to say before a person caught my eye. Her unique outfit and soft hair made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. 
"A vaultie," Cooper responds, anticipating my question before it even forms.
"Those are real?" I gasp before leaning forward, wanting to get closer to her. 
"Yeah, they are real." Cooper sighed as his hand shot back up to my arm. "Don't talk to her."
I frown but I keep quiet as I continue to watch her. He then kicked my foot gently to draw my attention back to him. "I mean it, darlin'."
"Fine," I say sighing as she disappears into the shop across the way. I felt sadness creep into my stomach as his hand dropped down to his lap and went back to fiddling with an empty Jet bottle. The butterflies from earlier returned as I thought about his touch. I bit my lip as I stared up at the sky.
"What has gotten into me?" I thought to myself.
We stayed there in silence for some time before a man and a dog came into town, making his way to the same shop the vaultie was in. I recognized him from the drawing. It was the bounty. I shifted in anticipation as he started making conversation with the vaultie at the front door.
"So now what?" I whispered, excitement laced in my voice. 
"Now... you find somewhere to hide," Cooper said back. "And you don't come out till' I say so, got it?"
I frowned, confused. "Hide?" 
"They ain't gonna let me just take him, darlin'." He responded, shifting in his seat as he readied for action.
The implication was clear. There was going to be another shootout. Not only was I unarmed, but I was unfamiliar with weapons altogether. Hiding was definitely the best course of action for me. 
"Right," I said as I looked around before making my way behind one of the buildings.
Once I was finally out of view I heard Cooper's familiar voice, "Whilzig!" He shouted.
I peeked around the corner to see him walking up to the bounty. At this point, they were too far away for me to hear. I could tell that the people of the town now saw him for what he was as all eyes were on him, a ghoul. "That is a lot of people." I thought to myself. I was starting to worry.
"Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies!" He shouted again. 
I whipped back around and pressed myself to the building taking deep breaths as I tried to tamp down the panic in my chest. Once the first gunshot rang out I could hear the townspeople scrambling. "Maybe no one will give him any trouble?" I thought to myself. I was being naive again, but I didn't care.
"I got a thousand bottle caps for whoever kills that fucker!" I heard a woman scream out. "But you don't get shit if I kill him first."
"Shit," I whispered. I took one last deep breath before I peeked back around the building. I watched as Cooper moved in a circle, taking count of all the men lining up to fight for those caps. Our eyes met for a moment. While my eyes were filled with fear, his eyes were filled with confidence. He gave me a small smirk before continuing to circle around, waiting for someone to be brave enough to take a shot. 
Once the shots started, all hell broke loose. I could hear wood breaking and bodies being thrown. Some of the ammunition even made its way through the buildings and out the other side. 
In defense, I curled up in a ball on the ground. I was so worried about him that I didn't even realize that I could be shot too.
When there was a brief pause in gunfire, I fought the temptation to look out again. "Don't come out till I say so." His words echoed in my head.
As the shots started up again, I felt something pierce my arm. I fought the urge to shout in pain as tears started to run down my face. One of the men's shots went through the building and into my arm. I look down to see a nail and some wood splinters sticking out of me. 
"Fuck." I whimpered as I cradled the wound trying to take deep breaths.
As I did my best to steady my breathing I heard a robotic voice say, "She said stand down ghoul."
I look around the corner to see a knight making his way towards Cooper, "Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel. Stand down, or be cut down."
I couldn't hear Cooper's response, but I saw a look of disbelief and amusement on his face. 
"Just do what he says, please," I whisper to myself. "Cooper." Just as I finish saying his name he lifts his gun at the girl and the knight makes a run towards her, jumping in front of her to take the bullet. 
I squeeze my teary eyes together as I turn back around. If Cooper was going to be killed by this knight. I didn't want to see it. 
Gunshots rang out again, this time it was just Cooper and the knight. To distract myself I looked back down at my arm, still bleeding. I had no idea what to do so I decided to pull the nail out. I took a deep breath in anticipation before giving it a good, hard yank. I couldn't help the loud cry that escaped my mouth. At the same time, I heard a body fly into some wood nearby. "It's not Cooper, it's not Cooper," I repeated over and over again as I fussed over my arm. 
"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but it's hard to walk upstairs while wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." Cooper chuckled.
Relief flooded my body when I heard his voice. The sudden sounds of bullets, explosions, and crashing filled my ears. I closed my eyes tight as I waited for it all to stop.
Eventually, I heard the knight flying overheard, clearly having lost control of his suit. It was over. 
"Y/n?" I heard Cooper yell out. 
I unsteadily got up on my feet and shuffled out from behind the building, still cradling my arm. "I am here."
As his eyes raked me over and stopped at my arm a look of concern washed over his face. He jogged over to take a closer look.
"I'm okay." I try and convince him as he gently touches my wound. 
"Those crocodile tears suggest otherwise, sugar." Cooper responds, giving me a small smile. "Let's find you a stimpack."
I nod my head as he wraps his arm protectively around me and guides me towards the shop. He only lets go when we reach the dog, wounded and whining on the ground. He gently picks it up and brings it into the shop with us. After putting the dog down on the table, he starts to rummage through the junk in the shop. 
"There's gotta be one around here somewhere." He mumbles. 
Between sniffles I say, "When you find one, give it to the dog."
He lets out a small chuckle as he finally finds what he's looking for. "Well lucky for us I found two."
"And the bounty?" I ask as he makes his way towards me.
"Ah, I'll get him," Cooper says, brushing off my concerns before he quickly stabs me with the needle.
"Ouch!" I whine as he rubs my arm while shushing me.
"You are okay, Darlin'." He coos.
"The dog-" I start.
"I got the dog." Cooper interrupts before giving the dog the other stimpack, petting his head gently. A smile erupts across his face as the dog pops up, immediately feeling better. "There."
I smile wide as I watch him with the dog. "You like dogs."
He looks over at me still smiling as his eyes flicker over to my arm. The wound was healed and I am no longer cradling it, the pain completely gone. "Feelin' better?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
All the feelings I had experienced during the shootout came flooding back to me as my smile faded. I felt overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and relief. "I-" I started as tears filled my eyes. 
"I was so worried about you!" I cried out as I ran towards him and wrapped my arms around him. 
Faster than it took to wrap my arms around him, I felt him rip me off. He dug his fingers into my shoulders as he held me at arm's length, shaking me gently. "Don't." He said sternly.
Embarrassment washed over me as I stared down at my feet. "I-"
"Just, don't." He interrupted, sighing before releasing me. "We will wait here until nightfall and then we'll follow Whilzig's trail. See if you can find anything useful around here while we wait."
"Okay," I whispered in response before shuffling to the other end of the store. The rejection stung so deeply that I could barely focus on what I was looking at. Right when he started to warm up to me, I ruined it.
tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay
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xlpoww · 8 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy
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i really loved how bad for business turned out, and it seems you all did too!! so here's a continuation of the bfb universe/storyline :) it's not exactly a part two
warnings! jealousy (sanji's)
word count: 1,720
opla! sanji x f! reader
i actually took the time to reference back to this scene in the live action to make sure i got their orders right :) !! also hi i am alive !!! i just got busy with work- and i had a mini con to go to this weekend and i cosplayed nami! :D -> i have also been struggling with tremendous writers block, and was trying to force myself to write about zoro for days! but i couldn't, and i was frustrated with myself untill i rememebred this isnt a job, this is for fun for me and you guys. so i went back to some of the things i've written and felt like i could continue this one :) the story really flowed from there and i wrote a lot in a short span sooooooo &lt;3 ily all! thanks for reading as always <3333
sanji vinsmoke is jealous. 
the cook is used to woman falling at his feet, swooning over his flirty personality. either that or they get annoyed at him and clearly show disinterest. (oftentimes calling him names and sometimes resulting in him getting hit)
but you, the one girl he actually held a candle for, he couldn’t even seem to get a rejection from you. that would’ve made things so much easier for him and his heart. it’s gotten to the point he’s wishing you would tell him you don’t return his feelings. sure it would hurt in the moment, but at least he could have (hopefully) forced himself to move on.
but no, you won’t reject him; nor will you swoon at his advances. they seem to roll right off you like beads of rain on a window. never a hint of blush on your cheeks, no angrily quirked brows. how was he meant to understand? there are two reasonable reactions to such a forward man, either interest or not. how do you manage to toe the line so perfectly?
it drove him mad, not only were you horribly hard to read, every once in a while you would flirt aggressively back at him. it would always catch the poor boy off guard, leaving him stunned and blushing standing wherever he was. oftentimes you did it right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving him to deal with the playful teasing of the other workers, walking off to continue doing your job. 
you would be the death of him surely.
especially when the sight of you smiling so sweetly at that stupid swordsman causes a painful squeeze in his chest. his grip on the tray he was holding is bruising, and there’s a jealous rage brewing inside of him.
-
“hello my name is y/n, and i’ll be your waitress today. can i start you guys with any refreshments?” you flip over a page on your notepad, ready to write down the group's requests. what a charming bunch they were, with just a glance you could tell they really cared for one another.
“i’ll take a beer,” the green haired man speaks up, and you nod with a smile.
“i’ll take two beers, i normally have three but..” he trails off as the woman at the table speaks up.
“i’ll take a water.”
“and a glass of milk!” the endearing boy with a straw hat adds on, his words are muffled by the bun he was still chewing. when coming to greet them you’d brough over a basket of perfectly warmed buns with butter. nodding at them all, your pen into your apron as you repeat back to them. 
“three beers, milk and water, coming right up you guys.” you step back with a bow, turning towards the kitchen. doing so you notice your best friend is glaring in your direction, and as you walk back you tilt your head at him. when you get closer you realize his glare wasn't directed towards you, but the swordsman you had taken the order from. he doesn’t even seem to pay you any mind as you approach him, too focused on the table you had just walked away from. when you reach him where he stands in front of the doorway, you snap your fingers in his face. it seems to snap him out of it, and he looks down at you with a charming smile.
“hello my love, what can i do for you?” his hand is placed on your shoulder sweetly. the touch warms your body, but you shake it off to cross your arms. 
“what’s up with you, why were you glaring at my table? do you know them?” you gesture back towards your table, and a flush washes over his face when he realizes he’d been caught. he straightens his tie in an attempt to shake off his shame,
“not a clue who they are darling.” your eyebrow raises in suspicion, you’re not buying it. he seems to know you won’t, and he tucks his hand into his pockets as he shrugs.
“you just glare at people you don’t know now sanj?” a pout forms out of frustration. while you were wondering why he was lying to you so blatantly, he was internally swooning at how adorable you looked in that moment, and the sweet way you'd shortend his name. the grip you had over his heart was the strongest in all the seas.
“don’t worry, pretty lady, it’s nothing. now if you’ll excuse me i’ve got my own tables to wait on.” he’s internally scrambling to figure out how to distract you from what he was caught doing, in a moment of boldness (or a crazy attempt to change the subject), he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head.
the action causes your eyes to almost bulge out of your head as you begin to blush. a smug smile forms on sanji’s face at the sight, he’d never felt more accomplished than he did in that moment. not only had he distracted you, he’d made your face light up all pretty and embarrassed. he winked at you before brushing past you to do his job, pushing open the swinging door into the kitchen behind you.
you’re left in shock trying to wrap your brain around his actions, ‘what had gotten into him?’ as bold and flirtatious as he was, you would have never expected a display like that in front of all the customers.
oh shit, the customers. ‘had anyone seen that? oh gods.’ your hands clench into fists as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality and calm down, and you push past the doors of the kitchen. your eyes are focused on the ground as you collect the drinks needed for your table, placing them all on a tray and balancing them on one hand. you take a moment to breathe in and compose yourself before walking back out into the dining room. 
you eyes scan the room and find your favorite blond waiting on a table on the opposite side of the room of your own. his location makes it easy to return to the table without incident, placing down the three beers before the milk and water. with a smile, you tuck the tray under your arm and pull out your notepad again to continue taking their orders. maybe doing your job could distract from the rapid beating in your chest.
“you guys decided on food yet?” 
“one of everything!” the boy with a straw hat speaks up, and you quirk your eyebrow. they didn't look like the big spenders you were used too, but it wasn’t really your place to mention that. your smile never slips as you nod, writing it down and once again bowing before you leave. by your luck sanji seems to be waiting for you at the doorway of the kitchen. so much for the idea you had to avoid him until you’d calmed down.
he holds his hand out, offering to take your tray from you. his kind offer brings a smile to your lips, and you decide to shove down whatever inner turmoil was happening and act like what he did hadn’t happened. (he sure was.)
“any interesting orders?” he smiles, quirking a brow at you as you offer him your serving tray. you laugh, holding out your notepad to show him where you had written down ‘one of everything’ sanji’s heart squeezes at how cute your handwriting is, and he can’t help the chuckle. “well it looks like you’ll need some help taking out this order then, love.” the pet name causes the usual skip in your heartbeat, and you smile, nodding in acceptance of his offer for help, pushing past him into the kitchen to get your cooks started on the order of everything.
-
the food gets taken out in waves, sanji always accompanying you with an extra plate or two. the table is rather nice about it, they’re always caught up in conversation. even still they thank you for every plate you place down, they seem like genuine people. it warms your heart to see such a close group of friends. 
you can’t help but notice the way sanji doesn’t even pay the girl at the table any mind, too busy glaring at the green haired man, his hands lingering on your shoulder or back longer than they needed to. how he’d managed to add on to his unusual behavior, you wouldnt understand.
not that he really had any reason to be placing a tender hand on your back while you were serving guests. the third time it happens you turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he turns to smile down at you sweetly, his hand on your back rubbing up and down. you look at him incredulously, sanji steps back, bowing before walking back towards the kitchen. before he left his gaze lingered on the man longer than should have been acceptable. you have to hold back a frustrated huff, turning back to the table with a plastered smile
“don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything! i hope you enjoy your meal.” you finish off the sentence with a bow, turning to look at the swordsman when he speaks up with a snort. “are you sure, wouldn’t want to make your busboy anymore jealous than he already is?” your eyes widen in confusion, not only at the notion, but the unnecessary insult towards your sanji.
“whatever could you mean.” the whole table turns to you, and the redhead quirks a brow at you, adding on.
“you’re not really that clueless, are you?” your mouth drops open, and a blush begins to cover your cheeks.
“no, i didn’t think i was.”
and then you’re even more confused. what reason would he have to be jealous over you and a random guest? it’s not like the man had even given you the time of day, or you’d even wanted it?  all you’d done was take his orders. 
the thought feels so impossible, even so it has already quickly begun eating away at your brain and heart. it was the only logical explanation for all his odd behaviors tonight.
sanji vinsmoke, was jealous. over you.
taglist: @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @teenyforestfairy @gothicuwusposts @cheesesoda @scentisterror @shuujin @gcldtom
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lovebugism · 11 months
Note
can i request something with a reader who’s just really into steve’s scoops ahoy uniform?
hi, my love! thanks so much for your request!! what better way to celebrate july 4th (aka stranger things 3 day) than by commemorating steve harrington in his scoops ahoy uniform? tw for smut mdni!! (2.1k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
When Steve told you he got a job slinging ice cream at the mall downtown, you didn’t think much of it. 
In fact, you spent the better part of that conversation comforting him. It was an existential crisis of sorts, wherein he’d spun himself into a panic about not going to college, not being successful, and not providing for you in the way that partners are supposed to. 
You figured it was a bruise to the ego more than anything — especially with his asshole father constantly looming over his shoulder. A steady reminder of what he could’ve been in ways more daunting than just one.
But then he showed you the Scoops Ahoy mandated uniform, held it in his hands with all the boyish reluctance of a child. According to him, the bright blue sailor’s outfit was the most dehumanizing thing of it all. It even came with its own stupid hat. 
You were so turned on by the idea of him wearing it, you forgot you were supposed to be consoling him. You quickly forgot why the job was ever a bad idea in the first place. Steve, albeit a bit confused by your sudden giddiness, was more excited to go into work the following Monday when he knew you were visiting him the first chance you got.
You’re practically skipping when you walk into Scoops, skirt swishing around your thighs. It was later in the morning, which meant business was relatively slow. There’s an older couple sharing a sundae at one of the booths, but other than that, you’re the only customer in the store.
Steve stands at the register with a smile on his face he doesn’t know is there. He’s been a real grouch all morning, but he’s forgotten why at the sight of you.
You beam at him, propping your elbows on the counter and putting your chin in your hands. “Do the line,” you gush.
His chest inflates with a deep breath in, then deflates with a sharp exhale. You don’t even notice that it’s a sigh of annoyance at first, too focused on the scarlet tie around his shoulders and the tufts of chest hair peeking out from the top of it.
“Ahoy, sweetheart,” he greets, still grinning despite his lack of enthusiasm. He tilts his head to his shoulder and recites his line: “‘Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me today? I’ll be your captain’— How was that?” 
“Even better in uniform,” you marvel in a lilt. Then you squint at him. “I better be the only customer you’re using that sweetheart line on, though, Harrington.”
Steve scoffs like the thought of saying it to anyone else is appalling. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world I’ve ever called sweetheart, sweetheart.”
“Good. I plan on it staying that way.”
The boy smiles to himself. 
He likes when you get all possessive. Maybe because he spent the majority of his past relationships having to be the jealous one — always worried about never being good enough, being left. He likes how confident he is in the fact that you only have eyes for him. Even if he is wearing a stupid sailor’s uniform. 
“What do you what, huh?” the boy asks as he pulls out his metal scoop from the apron tied around his hips. “Choco-mint with chocolate sprinkles?”
He’s already spooning the green ice cream onto a cone for you before you say a word. You like that you never have to tell him what you want, that he knows you like the back of his hand already. 
“Ooh. He looks good in a sailor’s outfit, and he’s attentive?” you singsong lowly. “I think you might be a keeper, Steve Harrington.”
The boy rolls his eyes as he turns away from you. He walks to the opposite wall, where several containers of variously colored sprinkles sit in a large tub. When he bends over to smother your cone in the chocolate kind, the white hem of his shorts climbs up his thighs. You almost forget to breathe.  
Steve turns around to catch you staring. You don’t even blink.
“Stop ogling at me,” he laughs with pink cheeks. “It’s getting weird, babe.”
Your brows pinch. “Why is it weird to look at my boyfriend?”
“Because your boyfriend looks like an idiot. Like, this should not be turning you on, sweetheart.”
“The heart wants what it wants, Stevie,” you shrug with a whimsical sigh.
He meets your smirk with a half-hearted scowl and passes you the ice cream cone. When your tongue darts out to taste it, his brain malfunctions for a moment. “Seriously, babe,” he scoffs when his senses return to him. “What about any of this is attractive to you?”
Your head tilts as you scan his muscular form, looking far more boyish than usual in his flamboyant uniform. “Well, for starters, those ankle socks are strangely sexy—”
Steve snorts at the offbeat start to your list.
“—And your thighs look delectable in those shorts. Your arms do, too. You’ve been working out so much, they barely fit in those sleeves,” you compliment. The corner of your mouth quirks into a half-smile as your eyes flit up to his hair. “Also, something about the hat and ascot combo is really doing it for me.”
Robin comes out of the break room then. The door swishes back and forth. “You could’ve just said everything and be done with it,” she grouses as she clumsily sits her white cap on her head.
She looks about as grumpy as Steve, like something about the linoleum tile and fluorescent lighting is sucking the lives out of the two of them.
“Don’t worry. You look hot too, Buckley,” you promise with a smirk.
Her head tilts sweetly to the side as she musters a grin of her own. “Thank you.”
You turn back to Steve with an expectant gaze. “When do you go on break again?”
He twists his wrist to check his watch as you take another lick of your ice cream cone. 
Robin answers for him. “Now, preferably.”
“What?” the boy asks with furrowed brows. “I still have, like, fifteen minutes left.”
“Just go fuck and get it over with,” she groans, ocean-blue eyes wide and pleading. “I can practically smell the sexual tension radiating off both of you.”
Steve wants to argue, but you only smile. You nod your head towards the exit. “C’mon, sailor.”
He has no choice but to follow behind you. He’s been doing it for years now, and you haven’t disappointed him once. You lead him by his hand through the bustling mall, chucking your half-eaten cone into the bin when you reach the entrance.
Steve isn’t surprised when you wind up at his car in the employee parking section. He swirls with a boyish excitement, anyway. 
Everything feels so new with you. 
Even the things he’s done a thousand times.
Including, but not limited to, fucking you in the backseat of his car.
You’re on him the second you shut the door behind you. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his thighs, kissing him with the intent to swallow him whole.
Steve’s hands are limp at his sides in shock. It leaves you doing most of the work yourself, pulling down his blue shorts and gray underwear in one fell swoop. You tuck the hem of them beneath his heavy balls and half-hard cock.
His head falls back against the seat when you start fisting him completely stiff.
You twist your wrist in the way you know he likes — squeezing him towards the top before falling to the stem of his cock again. Your thumb swipes over his bulbous head to collect the pearly pre-come beading there. 
If you had enough room in the backseat of his Beamer, you might’ve forgone the sex entirely and just taken him into your mouth right then.
Steve’s rosy mouth falls agape to billow pretty little moans for you. You tug on the red tie around his neck to get his attention again. His glazed-over, honey eyes flutter open to find your smirking face. 
“Can I take a ride on your ocean of flavor, Stevie?” you tease with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“It’s ‘set sail,’ but yeah— shit,” he swears when your thumb grazes his leaking tip again. “Of course, you can, sweetheart…”
With his consent, you grip the bottom of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line him with your pulsating entrance. He might’ve asked if you wanted a little preparation first, but when his silky head grazes your satin walls, he knows you’re more than wet.
Your pussy’s already drooling all over him, and he isn’t even inside you yet. 
The both of you exhale low moans when you finally slip him within you. Your walls are warm and wet — the softest velvet imaginable, and perfectly snug around his achingly hard cock. You keep your fingers wrapped around the tie on his chest, using it for leverage as you grind your hips back and forth over his thighs. 
Steve goes pussy drunk almost instantly, babbling like crazy at the feeling of your cunt sucking him further and further inside of you.
“Oh, my fucking god, baby,” he moans, the words sounding stiff as they spill from his tightening throat. “You feel so good. So tight, too— Shit. Pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart.”
He can’t see you from this angle — can’t see the way your dripping cunt takes him so well or the way your ass glides perfectly over his heavy balls. But he can picture it, can feel your slick drenching his pubic hair and happy trail.
He so desperately wishes it were possible to fuck you with his cock and have you ride his face at the same time. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you.
But this is good for now. 
This is perfect.
With the energy he’s got left from his drifting senses, he grips the plush of your ass. He spreads your flesh apart, and the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin makes you clench around him. He almost loses it, then — when the smacking of your thighs and the wet squelch of your drenched pussy fills the small car, going slowly cloudy with your entwining heavy breaths.
“You’re so hot, Stevie,” you manage through labored pants. Your heavy-lidded gaze threatens to close, but you don’t want to stop looking at the boy below you. You want to commit all his features to memory — his pink kiss-bitten mouth, reddened cheeks, and honeyed eyes. You want the image of his fucked-out features to stain your mind forever.
“God, babe,” he sighs breathlessly, a moan mixed with a soft laugh. “I still don’t— I really don’t get it, sweetheart.”
“Are you seriously complaining?” you smirk as you glide your hips over his thighs again. 
Your swollen clit catches the polyester of the bottom of his shirt. You swear your eyes cross as your mouth opens in a low keen.
When your pussy clenches at the ethereal feeling, his cock jerk within your tightening velvet. Both of you are nearing your orgasms full throttle now. You can almost taste the sweet vanilla of your climax.
“No. Fuck no, I’m not complaining,” he assures with a shake of his head. “You’re just really fucking confusing and really fucking hot... Fuck—”
His head falls back again, exposing the golden tendons of his neck. You’d bite at them if you could stop looking at him. You smile even though he’s not looking at you — even though your thighs are burning and your knee is digging into the seat belt latch. “I can’t wait to fuck you when you get off.”
“Yeah?” he hums, eyes still halfway closed.
“Yeah,” you repeat with a nod, still rocking against his lap while his cock rubs relentlessly at the deepest parts of you. Your clit catches his shirt with every pass of your hips, sending a white-hot feeling of nearly unbearable pleasure shooting up your spine. “So I can get a real good look at you while you fuck me in this uniform.”
Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his jaw clenches. He tries not to come at the sound of your voice and how the words spill like honey from your mouth. 
Despite the less-than-ideal location — at the edges of a mostly empty lot — he doesn’t want this to be over quite yet. He wants to feel you gush on his cock over and over and over again. He’s afraid he won’t be able to focus on work until you do.
If he knew that slinging ice cream for three dollars an hour in a stupid sailor’s outfit would drive you this crazy, he would’ve dropped out of school and put in an application forever ago. 
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heizouz · 2 months
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nsfw sub!lyney + implied amab!reader, no pronouns used but reader has a dick, rlly messy and needy, lyney is called a whore twice
i saw this in a vision and just started writing and didn't stop.. it's kinda long.. havent proof read idk if i even want to reread it. a bit crazier than my usual stuff (it's not) + the ending fuckin sucks bc i had no ideas. n e way love u guys and cockwhore lyney
there's something about stupidly needy, stupidly flirty lyney that drives me absolutely crazy.
lyney getting ready for a performance, most of his outfit put together other than his cape that's usually draped around his shoulder still hanging up behind the door. his hair is perfectly done, braid tight and the light pink streaks freshly dyed to accent his outfit colours. his hat is somewhere, but you can't see it from where you're standing by the door.
lyney’s bent over the vanity table, elbows resting on the wood while he holds his eyeliner up to his eyes, drawing a little dark wing on his right eye to match his left. from where you are, you've got a perfect view of how he perfects his makeup through the mirror, how he tilts his head to the side to make sure it's symmetrical to the other side, how he arches his back slightly to get closer to the mirror, how he pushes his ass out and sways his hips when he knows your eyes are raking over his entire body. he's teasing you without words, ever so slightly casting his eyes over to you through the mirror when he presses his chest against the vanity desk and lets out a quiet moan which could be passed off as him stretching but you know from the way the edges of his lips tilt upwards that he's doing it entirely on purpose.
you cross your arms, body weight leaning against the door frame of the wide open door to his dressing room and just watch as he continues to show himself off to you with flirty little smiles and obscenely stupid moans every time he presents his ass out in his stupidly tight shorts. anyone walking past the dressing room could look in and suspect nothing but the magician applying his makeup for his upcoming performance yet there was something so explicit in the way lyney moved his hips in front of you that anyone peeking in would think it was a pornographic display.
lyney squeezes his thighs together when he meets your eyes in the mirror and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in a cheeky grin, going back to still trying to perfect his eyeliner. he doesn't pay any attention to you now, focused on getting his makeup’s angle right and flaunting his pretty body to you to.
so he doesn't notice when you pull yourself off the door, quietly closing it behind you and crossing through the room to where he's entirely bent over the desk. when he sees you through the mirror though, his eyes seem to light up and he immediately pushes his ass back to meet your hips when you stop to stand behind him.
you raise an eyebrow slightly, but your hands drop to his hips, fingers pressing into the material of his clothes and you lean over his back a little, forcing him to stay pressed against the vanity.
“you enjoying yourself?” you ask, voice deep as you push your hips hard against his ass, watching the way lyney struggles to hold the eyeliner against his skin when he moans quietly and immediately sway his hips back to seek the feeling he's been needing.
the magician hums, eyes fluttering closed, pulling his eyeliner away from his face so he doesn't fuck up his makeup as your hands press his hips down against the wood of his desk, moving to kneeding his ass despite the shorts that hardly cover anything anyway. “i am now.” lyney breathlessly says, hand curling into a fist at the friction of his clothes and the desk against his aching cock. you can't help but smirk a little, pressing your lips across his shoulder and whispering a small “yeah?” in his ear that he nods so obediently to.
“you're gonna be late to your performance if you keep this up.” you mumble, moaning under your breath when lyney forces his hips back against you harshly. the magician smiles at you, blinking at you through the mirror even though you're focused on the way he's moving his ass against you so needily.
“not if we're quick.”
it’s your turn to hum now and you grab the eyeliner from his hand - lyney whines in response, eyes glaring at you through the mirror - and put it somewhere on the desk before grabbing lyney's hips and spinning him around. the boy gasps, hands gripping the edge of the vanity for support until you force him to the floor. lyney just accepts it, bracing himself on his knees in front of you, almost hitting his head on the desk from the speed.
your fingers hit the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to look at you and he does, eyes big and needy, that stupid flirty grin tugging at his lips. “don't wanna ruin your outfit, baby,” you faux pout, fingers dancing across his jaw and cheek before your thumb lands on his bottom lip, “so put your pretty mouth to good use, yeah?”
lyney is almost immediate with his ministrations. his hands go to your belt, tugging at the buckle as you press your fingers against his lips for him to open. he does, parting his lips for you to slip your fingers in and he moans around them, eyes glancing up all pretty with his performance makeup on. he takes your fingers in his mouth so nicely, wetting them for no reason other than to please you until he gets your pants down and his lips around your cock.
he presses desperate kisses along your cock once he's freed it, working his way up to the tip and wrapping his pretty lips around you while his hands curl around the rest. you moan quietly, so badly wanting to grab his hair and force his head down to take all of you but you're wary that he has to be out on stage soon and you can't risk explaining to the hair and makeup department what happened. so you settle with brushing your thumb over his cheek as lyney giggles and whines as he kisses the tip of your cock again.
“such a pretty eager whore today.” you sigh, grabbing lyney's jaw to urge him to take your cock, which he does with ease, lips parting to take you almost fully and you can feel the whimper he let out at the name around your cock. “bet you'd take anyone's cock if they'd walked in on you bent over like that, wouldn't you?”
you're teasing, trying to rile him up fully knowing he's not anything but your baby. it works though, and lyney whines around your cock, the vibrations punching a groan from your throat and he pulls off to glare up at you. “wouldn't.” he says, stroking the length of your cock as his lips press against the underside where he knows you're sensitive. you grin a little, moaning through a smile and lyney drags his tongue up the length of your cock, eyes blinking prettily up at you to flirt despite your cock in his mouth. he looks so perfect like this, on his knees in front of you, makeup glittery and pink, eyes bright and glassy, lips parted around you, so eager to please even though he's on timetable.
he takes you so well, one hand stroking whatever he can't fit in his mouth and the other grabbing your shirt to ground himself. he's being careful though, not showing off and you narrow your eyes a little. your hand finds the back of his head, careful not to mess with his hair and you press him forward to take your cock further. lyney whimpers, both hands grabbing the backs of your thighs and eyes widely looking up at you. he takes it though, letting his lips stretch around the length of your cock until he can't anymore and his pretty violet eyes start to glass over with tears.
“that's it, good boy.” you groan, head falling back slightly at the warmth of his mouth. lyney tries to blink back his tears, not wanting to smudge his eyeliner but he's so needy and your cock is filling his mouth so well that it's making it difficult. you finally let go though, and lyney pulls off of you with a gasp, instantly whining and going to stroke your cock like a good boy. the magician rubs his thighs together, pressing his lips needily over your cock and when you glance back down at him he immediately goes to take you again.
you moan, catching the way the boy is pressing his thighs together so desperate for friction. so you gently part his legs with your foot and lightly press your shoe against his aching cock over his shorts. lyney cries around your cock, immediately bucking against your shoe and fingers curling into the material of your shirt. his eyes fill with tears once again from the pleasure he needed, making sure to eagerly bob his head along your cock as a thank you.
he knew you wouldn't let him cum since he had to be on stage in probably ten minutes from now, but he was grateful nonetheless for some sort of relief. lyney closes his eyes to force back his tears when your shoe presses against the tip of his cock through his shorts, loud moans bleeding from around your cock. you're close now, and you let lyney know with a hand on the back of his head and cursing out.
“f-fuck, gonna cum baby,” you're breathless, eyes dropping to see lyney crack his eyes open to watch you, “as much as i want to see your pretty face covered, can’t today.”
lyney's eyes plead, small whine ripping from his throat with a frown, pulling off to suck the head of your cock and you jolt a little, stomach coiling. “g-god, baby open your mouth.” you grab your cock once lyney rips himself off, obeying and lips parting at your command. he sits like a good boy when you stroke yourself to release, eyes glimmering with need as you cum on his tongue, lips closing around you gently to help you through. you let out a mantra of moans as you come down, letting lyney lick and mouth up your length, making a mess all over your cock, not caring about the cum and saliva dripping from your cock and his pretty lips.
you pull him off of you, thumb going to clean the mess off his face and press into his mouth which lyney just takes with need, moaning around your thumb.
“pretty whore.”
lyney giggles, pressing a kiss against your cock to tease when you drop your thumb from his mouth. if it weren't for the growing noise of people from the hallway outside, you're sure lyney would've skipped his performance to stay on his knees all night for you.
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creamsickle-writes · 11 months
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Waiting in the Wings: Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
Tags: nsfw, ModernAU, friends to lovers, oral (specifically face sitting), penetrative sex, creampie, and dirty talk
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You felt humiliated.
Your stupid date just had to ditch you right before your night out. You had gotten all dressed up and put your makeup on; you even did your hair a particular way, only for him to say he couldn’t make it an hour before the outing.
This was so stupid.
You kept repeating that to yourself over and over as you scrubbed off your makeup, tied your hair back, and changed out of that lovely dress you were wearing.
This was frustrating; you didn’t even like the guy that much, yet he thought he could stand you up? You knew you could do much better and still decided to accept his date proposal anyway.
As you settled into your pajamas and were looking for takeout to supplement the nice dinner you were supposed to have, your phone rang. Your eyes focused on the name at the top.
Ace
Ace was your best friend. He always had been, and, honestly, you really wished you were going out with him instead. 
But you didn’t want to mess up your relationship, so you’ve been trying to find someone else. 
It felt weird going to him about relationship stuff, but you were trying to push past that feeling; you had to start treating him like a friend, not a potential partner. So, you decided to vent to him like a friend would. You quickly wiped away the tears you didn’t realize had started to form.
You answered the phone with the camera tilted towards your bed frame and the wall above it. You could see his video feed, though; he was lying in bed too, only the upper half of his face showing, his eyes wide with excitement.
“You’ll never guess what I found at-” He stopped himself before asking, “Hey, what are you doing in bed? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for that date?”
“Not anymore,” You sighed, “The guy canceled on me.”
Ace blinked a few times before angling the camera downwards so it showed his whole face, his face screwed up in a confused expression, “What? Did he say why?”
You shook your head, “He just suddenly said something came up. Didn’t even bother saying he wanted to reschedule for another date or anything-“
Ace clicked his tongue, “That’s rude-“
You hummed and nodded slowly, agreeing with him. 
And you made the mistake of sniffling. 
Ace sat up at the sound, furrowing his brow, “Are you crying?”
Despite your embarrassment, you angled the camera down so he could see your puffy red eyes and wet cheeks, “Just a little..”
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
“Hey, tell you what,” Ace said after a while, “Let’s hang out tonight, okay? You, me, and some pizza. Sound cool?”
You nodded and spoke up, your voice wavering, “Thanks, Ace. You always know just what to say.”
He laughed a bit, “Hey, what are buds for, right?”
Your heart broke at those words.
Buds. Friends. Pals.
He always used those words to describe you guys.
It was clear he would never feel anything more for you. 
The thought made you feel conflicted; Sure, you had him as a great friend- Look at what he was doing now, buying you dinner and giving you a shoulder to cry on, but you wanted more than this, and the fact that you knew it would never be more only made you more upset.
But you wouldn’t think about that now; you decided that, for the moment, you should just be grateful that he’s in your life at all.
 “I’ll be over with the pizza in half an hour, okay?”
“Okay.”
_____
Ace eventually knocks at your door, and you answer, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. Your eyes are still a bit swollen, but fortunately, your tears are no longer flowing.
Ace smiles a bit, “Hey, sorry about your date. Buttttt…”
He presents the pizza with a flourish, “Ta-da.”
You laugh a bit at his gift and showy display. 
“Thanks, just put it on the table.”
Ace takes the familiar route to your living room and places the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch. He plops on the sofa and leans back, placing his hat on the table.
“So, how you holding up?” Ace asks, looking up at you as you sit on the other end of the couch, leaving space between you both.
“I’m alright,” You sigh, leaning back into the couch cushions.
He raises an eyebrow, some silence occupying the room before he speaks, “It’s okay to not be okay, you know…”
Your lips form a thin line as you think his words over. He was right; if there was anyone you could talk about this with, it was him. Tentatively, you begin to speak.
“I know, it’s just…” you sigh again, “You know this isn’t the first time someone I was supposed to meet canceled on me…”
He nods, his words apologetic, “Yeah, I know…”
“And it’s not even like I really liked him that much or anything, so I’m not really crying over him.” You start, annoyance and frustration in your voice.
Ace nods in understanding.
 “I’m just starting to think that, I don’t know, maybe there’s something wrong with me? Maybe they think I’m boring to talk to over text?” You shake your head and look down at your hands on your lap, “Or maybe they look at my photos again and realize I’m really ugly…”
Ace clears his throat, and you look up at him. 
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re boring… or ugly at all.”
You smile softly, your heart racing, “Thanks, Ace…”
Ace smiles, and you notice his eyes comb through the room, looking for a way to change the topic. When his eyes land on the remote, his face lights up.
“Here,” Ace picks up the remote, “Let’s throw something on to take your mind off it. Trashy reality TV always takes people’s minds off their problems, right?”
You snort, “What?”
He shrugs lightheartedly, “I don’t know, I just know people eat this stuff up! Let’s throw on something that looks really bad for fun.”
You giggle as he turns on the TV, navigating to your favorite streaming app. He hums as he scrolls through the menus, eventually settling on something that looks absolutely horrible.
It’s perfect.
You kind of pay attention for the first fifteen or twenty minutes, but you and Ace are talking over the whole thing, commenting on the contestants and the stupid plot of the show. Eventually, your combined commentary goes off track when one of the male contestants says something a bit too forward to another. You momentarily tear your eyes from the television to give a snide remark.
“God, these people act like they’ve never had sex before,” You snort, “It’s the first day, and they’re already trying to fuck each other.”
Ace snickers along with you, his eyes still glued to the tv, “I mean, maybe they hadn’t gotten laid in a while?”
“I’ve been going months without dick, and you don’t see me acting up- “
That catches his attention.
He turns his head towards you and blinks a few times as if surprised, “Wait, you’re serious? It’s been months?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Damn,” Ace says, something unreadable in his expression, “I mean, was the last time at least good?”
Your face heats up, “Uh, well, he didn’t go down on me and lasted, like, two minutes, so…”
Ace looks shocked, stunned even at your confession, “He didn’t eat you out? Like, at all?”
You feel your body grow hot, and you shake your head. You never thought you would talk to Ace about your sexual encounters with other people like this. 
Ace chuckles before speaking, “Goddamn, if I was in bed with you, I would’ve eaten the fuck out of that-“
His face immediately goes bright red, “I-I mean, with a girl like you, not you!”
“U-Uh, right-” You cough awkwardly.
He abruptly stops talking, and the only sound in the room is of some women arguing on television. Ace looks away from you and tries to get back into the show. But as you turn to look back at the television, you occasionally peek at him from the corner of your eye. Ace is shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and you can tell he’s embarrassed about what he just said.
Under normal circumstances, you’d drop the subject, but after tonight, after dealing with shitty guy after shitty guy, you weren’t going to let the man you actually wanted get away.
 “I mean, I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to do it with me.”
That gets Ace’s attention.
“Huh?”
“W-Well,” You clear your throat, “The way you said it, it sounded like you wanted to do it with me, so I figured I’d, uh, offer… Let you know I’d be up for it.”
Ace turns, offering you his full attention now, “N-No, that’s not right. You’re all messed up about this dating thing. I’d be such a piece of shit to take advantage of-”
Your ears twitch at his phrasing. It sounds like he really did want you. You weren’t going to back off now, not when what you’ve fantasized about for so long was within reach.
Suddenly, in an act of boldness, you begin to crawl toward the dark-haired man. He backs up until his lower back hits the couch’s armrest. He gulps as he looks down at you, his face turning a soft shade of pink.
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me…” 
“You’re not… thinking straight…” he swallows thickly, strictly keeping his hands at his sides.
“Ace,” You start, your lips moving on their own before your brain can catch up or stop you, “I’ve always wanted you… I just didn’t want to mess up everything..”
Ace’s eyes bulge as wide as saucers as he looks down at you, your confession continuing, “I started going on stupid dating apps and stuff to try and get over my crush on you but, fuck, it just isn’t working. None of those guys compare to you.”
You crawl even closer, moving so that your lips are dangerously close to his, “I still just want you… A-And I know I avoided saying all this because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I can’t keep pretending like… like I’m not in love with you.”
Your face feels hot as you realize you have confessed your love for him. You’re terrified that you’ve scared him off, that maybe he only wanted to hook up with you casually or as a one-time thing to satisfy his curiosity. 
But you know he feels the same as you do when he closes the gap without another word.
Your lips press against each other’s, and a gasp escapes you as he snakes his hands over your hips, his warm palms resting comfortably on your body.
You sigh happily into his lips as he licks over your bottom lip, politely asking for permission to taste you. You part your lips and introduce your tongue to his, the wet appendages dancing. 
When he pulls away, he laughs softly, “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that…”
“You have no idea how long I dreamed of you doing that…”
“I guess we should make up for lost time then…”
He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again, his hands trailing over your ass and squeezing it firmly. You gasp at his boldness. As you two continue to kiss, you feel his cock hardening beneath you and blush softly at how excited he is for you. 
“Fuck, I-” He breathes shakily, “Can I be real for a second?”
“Go ahead,” You laugh, “Tell me what you’re thinking..”
Ace places his hands on your hips as he looks up at you, his face bright red. 
“I know we literally just confessed to each other, but, ah,” He stutters a bit, “I really wanna fuck you right now- And I know that’s not, like, romantic or anything, but I really wanna be inside you.”
You look back at him, your face burning hot at his honesty.
Before you can respond, he starts babbling, “Uh, but, y’know, it’s cool if you wanna take things slow! We can just pretend I never said that and-”
You grab him by his shoulders and kiss him deeply. And as quickly as the two of you come together, you part. 
“Did you forget how this all started?” You giggle before lowering your voice to a whisper, “I want you to fuck me.”
Ace smiles and captures your lips yet again. The kiss is passionate and maybe a bit sloppy, but you both have been yearning for each other’s touch for so long that it doesn’t matter. But as soon as things start to get a bit more heated, Ace pulls himself away.
“Oh shit, wait.” Ace curses, “I don’t have any condoms or anything on me-”
“Don’t worry about that,” You giggle, “I’m on birth control, so we’re good.”
“Oh, thank god,” He sighs in relief, but you can see the gears turning in his head before he speaks again, “Does that mean I can…?”
“Cum inside me?” You snort.
He blushes a vibrant red, “Y-Yeah.”
You smirk and lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Only if you promise to fill me up real nice…”
“Fuck,” He breathes shakily, “I promise. Hell, I’ll pinky promise-”
“I’ll hold you to it,” You grin, extending your pinky before he takes it with his own, sealing the deal.
You giggle before pressing a kiss to his lips, your kisses soon trailing down to his neck. You suck gently on the skin, surely leaving marks behind. 
Soon you’re tugging on the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, pulling it over his head. With his torso newly exposed, you kiss and nip at his chest, sliding your tongue over his nipples just to see if they’re sensitive. He groans and calls your name so sweetly, making your heart swell with pride; he is so vocal and all just for you. After playing with his tender nipples for a bit, you decide to chart the rest of his body; after all, there is much more to explore. You eventually reach his stomach, your lips grazing over his dark happy trail. Ace bites his lip as your lips are mere centimeters away from his cock, the only thing separating your lips from his shaft being a few layers of clothing.
With eager fingers, you reach to unbutton his shorts. He lifts his hips so you can slide them down along with his underwear. His cock is dark red, precum leaking desperately from his tip. 
“Looks like you could use some attention, hm?” You giggle, wrapping a hand around him and stroking slowly. 
He reaches out a hand, stopping your movements, “No, wait-”
Your brows raise, and he continues, “This whole thing has been you taking care of me so far, and you said last time you had sex, he didn’t even go down on you, so let me take care of you…”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He grins, “Just take your clothes off and climb up here…”
Your face blushes at the implication, “You want me to sit on your face?”
His smile only widens, “Is that a problem?”
You shake your head and begin to peel your clothes off your body. Soon you’re before him, completely nude, just as he is. You notice his dick twitch as you crawl forward, and you laugh at how honest his body is.
With your hips positioned over his face, your pussy terribly close to his lips, you announce, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“You need to get lower, sweetheart.” Ace laughs, and your heart throbs at the nickname.
You lower yourself even further, but Ace doesn’t seem satisfied, “You’re still hovering. You gotta actually sit on my face-”
“Won’t it be hard to breathe..?”
“Hey, if I go out like this, I’ll die a happy man.” Ace chuckles before grabbing your hips, “So c’mon, just sit down, okay?”
You hesitate for a second, but after taking a deep breath, you sit on his face, your pussy pressed against his lips.
Ace groans loudly as you do so, immediately getting to work. He kisses your clit a few times before his tongue darts out, swiping over it. You jump a bit, lifting your hips off his face accidentally. You’re about to apologize and lower yourself back down, but Ace beats you to the punch, gripping your ass and forcing your cunt back onto his lips with a growl. He eats you out like a man possessed, slobbering all over your clit and sucking on it greedily. You were starting to think he asked to do this not just because he felt sympathetic but because he would enjoy it so much.
You sigh as you feel his tongue press penetrate your hole, the warm, flexible appendage feeling incredible inside you. Ace’s hands squeeze your ass, firmly keeping you in place despite how you squirm and squeal. You look down below as Ace has his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focuses on making you feel good. You bite your lip and reach up to squeeze your breasts, rocking your hips against his tongue.
He pulls his tongue out for a moment to murmur, “That’s it, baby, use my tongue however feels good…”
His voice is husky and deep, sending a shudder through you; his words of encouragement light up your core, and you’re bolder with your movements now, rocking your hips shamelessly. 
As Ace speeds up his pace, your legs begin to shake. He chuckles into your mound, moving his hands to your thighs as if to reassure you that everything is okay and that he wants you to just let go. 
“Ace…” You whine, “I-I’m so close.”
Your chest grows tight as you hold your breath, your hips speeding up to shoot yourself over the edge. Ace grips your thighs even tighter, trying to stay close to you. 
Soon you’re squealing as your orgasm washes over you, Ace still sucking and licking your clit as you ride the intense wave. Your toes curl, and your back arches as you wiggle your hips, trying to get as much friction as possible.
As the feelings of pleasure fade, you move down from his mouth, straddling his waist. You notice his cock is even flushed scarlet now, the angry-looking shaft throbbing and twitching like crazy. 
“That was so hot, you don’t even know.” He says, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.
You giggle and reach down to stroke his cock, coaxing precum out of the swollen tip, “Was it as good as you thought it would be?”
“Hell yeah,” He smirks, “I’d eat your pussy all day if you’d let me-”
“Maybe another day, because now…” You hum, “Now it’s your turn to cum…”
Ace’s dark eyes sparkle and flicker with anticipation as you lay on your back, spreading your legs wide, “Come on and fill me up… Remember, you promised~”
Ace licks his lips as he hovers above you, one hand holding the base of his cock as the other supports his weight. He rubs his head over your sensitive clit a few times, his warm precum dribbling onto it.
When he pushes in, there’s hardly any resistance at all. Your pussy greedily sucks him in, clenching and squeezing around him tight. He groans and lowers his head, his dark curls falling in his face as he is lost in the initial penetration. 
“Start slow,” You laugh, “Like I said, it’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” He nods, “Don’t worry, I got you, sweetheart…”
He rocks his hips slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back inside to the base each and every time. His movements are smooth, fluid, as he takes his time and focuses on being gentle.
You sigh happily as he makes you feel good. You can’t help but look between your legs and watch as his cock slides in and out of you. You like seeing his swollen cock leave, but you also love watching it plunge back inside. 
After a short while, you begin to grow antsy; this felt nice, but you wanted him to go faster, to fuck you harder.
“Ace…” You whine sweetly, and he practically reads your mind.
“You want me to speed things up?”
You nod, and he kisses you again before leaning back and lifting your hips, angling his thrusts so they hit your g-spot. His hips work faster now, his gaze glued to where your bodies repeatedly meet. You moan out his name, and your hands ball into fists as you’re overwhelmed by the pleasure.
Ace notices and leans forward, his face inches from yours as he teases you, “Am I fucking you right, baby? Do you feel good?”
You nod dumbly and reach for his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. 
“Aw, you gotta say it,” He coos, his confidence at an all-time high, “Say exactly how you feel, sweetheart.”
“It feels so good-” You gasp, “Please, don’t stop-!”
He licks his lips, and his voice rasps, “How can I say no when you beg so pretty, huh?”
Ace leans forward and kisses you deeply, your tongues sliding against each other as you moan together. Your hands find his dark hair and use it to pull him closer, wanting him to be as close as he possibly can be to you.
Your lips part, and Ace takes your legs, pushing them as far as they can go to make a complete mess of you. The new angle makes him hit deeper, your toes curling in delight. Your breathing becomes labored as he fucks into you hard; the rough, harsh thrusts will definitely bruise your insides, but it feels so good that you don’t even care. 
“Oh my god,” his voice drips with lust, “You’re squeezing me so tight. I can feel your pussy sucking me in; it feels so fucking good-”
You whimper as his thrusts jostle you, your nails digging into his back as you desperately try to ground yourself. He pounds into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever experience such pleasure, his eyes hooded as he watches you writhe and moan. 
His own sounds grow louder, his moans and whimpers filling the room as he fucks you. Each powerful thrust leaves you breathless, and with every desperate call of your name and curse that he utters, you feel your core lighting up even brighter.
Soon the pressure becomes unbearable.
“A-Ace, I’m gonna cum-” You gasp.
“I can feel it, baby,” he rasps out, “You’re so fucking close- you can do it-”
He grits his teeth and works himself in and out of you with renewed vigor as if your words were an enchantment. He huffs and moans shamelessly, his cock twitching and throbbing within you.
“Come on,” he urges, “Cum for me- cum all over my cock-!”
His pleas reach your ears, and it causes a glorious orgasm to emerge from within you. Stars dance across your vision as you let out a shaky moan, your juices coating his thick shaft.
He watches your face as he now focuses on chasing his high, his thrusts growing sloppy and erratic. He grunts, “Fuck, you’re so good- you’re gonna make me cum…!”
As soon as he says it, his hips still, and you feel him fill you up with his cum. He groans loudly as shot after shot fills your cunt, the sticky cream stuffing you full. Your legs quiver as he lowers them gently, keeping them spread as he slowly fucks his essence into you.
He lets out a shaky breath before pulling out, the cum leaking out of your hole despite his efforts to keep it inside. 
His eyes dart to your face before he grabs you, pulling you on top of him as he flops onto his back. Ace kisses you softly, his hands finding your hips and circling the flesh with his thumbs. 
He hums softly as he pulls away from your lips, “I love you…”
Your eyes widen in surprise and his in realization.
He quickly stumbles, “Uh- shit- sorry- that was probably too soon to say that-“
You smile, pressing a finger to his lips, “Don’t you remember? I already said that earlier.”
“You said you were in love with me, not that you loved me. I feel like that’s different-”
“Shut up, you’re overthinking it,” you laugh, “We both love each other, okay?”
Ace lets out a relieved sigh and hugs you tight, kissing your cheek. A soft giggle leaves your lips as you see how he stares at you with admiration and love. 
“But you know, if we both love each other,” he chuckles, “You’re gonna have to delete your profiles off those dating apps now.”
“Way ahead of you.”
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amhrosina · 1 year
Note
Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face
a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!
warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy
masterlist // join my taglist
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You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 
Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.
“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”
Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.
“Sweetheart?”
His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.
“Hey, Frankie.”
You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 
“What happened?” 
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.
“Did someone hurt you?” 
His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 
“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”
He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.
“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 
“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.
“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 
You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”
“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 
You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 
“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”
“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.
“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.
“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”
You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 
“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.
“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”
“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”
Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 
“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 
“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”
“I thought you’d be more mad.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”
You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.
“What were you cooking before I came home?”
Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”
You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.
Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.
“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”
He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.
“You found it?” You gasped.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.
“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”
He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”
You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 
“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”
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thesightstoshowyou · 18 days
Text
Generosity
Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)
Summary: The Ghoul has never been one to refuse a lady in distress.
Warnings: Discussions of past domestic and sexual abuse, dacryphilia, dubious consent, biting, use of “daddy,” dirty talk
Everyone go bow down to @lilkrissmuffet and her delicious prompt idea
Gif by @melodyoffire
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The Ghoul ought to thank you. You’re an easy bounty to track. In your obnoxious blue and yellow jumpsuit, you stick out like a sore thumb among all the lifeless tans and browns of the wasteland. Shivering and scared, you’re a prey animal in a foreign land inhabited by predators, and you just ran headfirst into the worst of them.
Despite the split lip and jaundiced bruise over your eye, you’re a pretty little thing. Stupid too; you turn and bolt like a startled whitetail when you spot his twisted face and the hand cannon nestled in its holster. The Ghoul doesn’t blame you, though. If he were in your shoes, he’d run too.
The lasso hooks you around an ankle and yanks your feet out from under you. You crash to the ground in a flurry of sand and flailing limbs. A few, quick tugs and you’re thrashing and wailing at his feet. A knife to the throat and a whispered threat to cut out your tongue and fry it up for lunch quiets you down in a hurry.
“P-Please, please, no, I c-can’t go back, please, you don’t know what they do to us down there!” They always beg. Though, none of them beg quite as sweet as you.
The Ghoul turns his apathetic gaze to your watery eyes. Your lips are chapped, the bottom one trembling as you struggle to keep your blubbering contained. Tears streak through the dust that has collected on your sunburned cheeks. Before now, you probably never went a day without a shower.
“Honey, you got no idea what I know.”
On the horizon, thunderheads build. The ominous rumbling and static that fills the air tell the Ghoul it will soon be too dangerous for you to travel. The muscles in his face flex as he works his lower jaw back and forth. If it’s not one fucking thing, it’s another.
Rain pummels the ancient shingles of the ramshackle house, your temporary accommodations for the evening. In the corner, you sit huddled and trembling, your sniveling audible in the lulls between cracking thunder. Flashes of lightening glint off his blade as it slides across a whetstone.
From under the brim of his hat, the Ghoul watches you square your shoulders and inhale a fortifying breath. Here comes the bargaining.
“Excuse me, Mr…?” He says nothing in response to your timid question. A head tilt and a quirked brow are the only indications he gives that he’s listening. Voice quivering, you try again, “Um, I-I know there’s probably a reward for…for bringing me back—
“Yer husband’s offerin’ a handsome sum of caps for yer safe return. So, unless ya’ got double that stashed in that lil’ uniform a’ yers, ya’ can shut yer trap.” The Ghoul sees the tears welling up in your eyes from across the room. Now the sob story….
“Please! Please just listen. They…we’re used like chattel down there! He, my-my husband…” you spit out the word like it’s poison, “…hurts me. Hurts me all the time. I’m not the only one, there are other wives, others he hurts. I’ll-I’ll do anything not to go back, please. I don’t have any caps, but I’ll do…I’ll do anything.”
The promise of that last word hangs in the air, thick and heavy like the humidity from the thunderstorm. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what you’re offering. If he were a weaker man, or if he cared even a little for your predicament, perhaps he’d take you up on your “generosity,” but pussy doesn’t pay for chems.
“That’s mighty generous of you, sweetheart, takin’ pity on a lowly Wastelander like myself.” The Ghoul’s tone drips with sarcasm. He revels in the way you stumble over your apologies, your ‘No-that’s-not-what-I-meants.’
Casually, he adjusts his position, the hand holding the knife draping across his bent knee so he can more comfortably observe your floundering. Admittedly, the desperate tears pouring down your face are beginning to stir something deep in his belly. It’s too easy to imagine how you’d look under that vault suit: So much supple, unmarred skin begging to be bruised….
You’d offered, the Ghoul supposes. He isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, what the fuck else is there to do around here?
How you ended up beneath him, nearly bent in half and taking him up to the hilt is all a bit of a blur, but it’s too late now to question things. You’re wet and mostly willing, gripping him so tight it almost hurts. You were a fantastic little actress—probably have to be with your home life being what it is—mewling like a kitten just how most men would adore, but the Ghoul isn’t most men. A “performance” isn’t what he had in mind.
Now, you scream for real. Your nails dig into the gnarled flesh of his shoulders and fresh tears wet your face as the Ghoul grips you behind the knees and jackhammers into your suckling hole. “That’s more like it, sweetie,” he urges, his voice clipped and hoarse. “Keep cryin’ for me.”
His teeth find the soft skin of your neck and the urge to sink them in deep and tear your throat out pulls a growl from his chest. However, you’re worth a lot more alive. The Ghoul settles for sucking a purple bruise onto your flesh instead. You taste like salty sweat with barest hint of familiar floral perfume.
“Oh—god, god, D-Daddy don’t stop—
You choke on your words when you realize what you said. He chuckles low in his throat when he feels the embarrassed heat rushing to your face. “Now who told ya’ t’call me that?” he teases.
Furiously, you shake your head and stammer, “I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—
“No, no, baby, I never said I didn’t like it. Let’s hear it again. Tell Daddy how good that lil’ pussy’s feelin’.” Your needy whine makes him groan and renews his desire to fuck orgasms out of you until you pass out.
He does, almost. He fucks you until the downpour outside tapers off into a light sprinkle, until you’re sore and drooling into the dirt. He fucks you until dark bruises in the shape of his fingers bloom along your hips and your blood dries on his lips because he couldn’t help but have a taste of your sweet skin. He fucks you until he has no choice but to pull out and paint your inner thighs with spend; he’d pump you full but he has no desire to share his last bag of Radaway.
Sated and feeling merciful, the Ghoul lets you sleep off your fucked-out stupor until afternoon the next day. He spends the morning resting and refueling and sucking down Jet while you doze, oblivious. Golden rays of sun pour in through the holes in the rickety house frame and illuminate the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders. The word “peaceful” comes to mind as he notes the way your worried frown has smoothed out in slumber.
But, all good things….
The Ghoul stands with a groan and a long stretch before he slings the saddle bag over his shoulder. He nudges you with the toe of his boot and rouses you with an energetic, “Rise and shine, sleepin’ beauty!” You roll over and blink up at him, bleary-eyed and befuddled.
“Wha…?”
“Got a lot of ground to cover today. Make yerself decent.”
“What…what are you talking about? Where are we going?” Your confusion would be endearing if he didn’t already know what comes next.
“Well, sugar, I got a bounty to cash in on. Now, are ya’ gonna behave or am I gonna have to drag ya’, kickin’ and screamin’ through the dirt?”
“But-but last night…!”
“Last night was real sweet, darlin’, but Daddy’s got bills t’pay.”
Most men would be moved or even ashamed by the look of betrayal and rage etched in every inch of your expression.
But the Ghoul isn’t most men.
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beenbaanbuun · 3 months
Text
top hat and cane w/ arriba!mingi
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words - i don’t know…
genre - smut
warnings - arriba!mingi, mean dom!mingi, degradation (slut, dumb), semi public masturbation, cane fucking (i’m so sorry), clothed sex, p in v, no protection, cum eating, choking kind of??, restraining kind of?????, cumming inside, please send help :D
——————————————————————————
watching mingi fumble round the stage dressed as willy wonka wasn’t exactly something you found yourself attracted to
the man underneath was a different story
you quite often fumbled under mingi’s sharp gaze that stares you down like he’s a lion and you’re his prey
but the top hat and the cane? you’d have to pass up on that opportunity
at the end of the song he comes rushing off the stage in his usual mingi way; all gangly and sweet and with zero evidence of the persona he’d just been flaunting
but then his eyes land on you and he straightens up before strutting towards you
you feel the cold metal of his cane pressing against your chin and tilting your head up to look at him, and before you know it your mind is blank
he whips his sunglasses off and folds them up, trailing them down your neck to hook them over the neckline on your tshirt
you gulp as you feel his finger linger on the fabric for a few seconds, just tugging it down ever-so-slightly before releasing it
“what do we have here?” his voice has dropped an octave and it goes straight to your core
you squeeze your thighs together and hope he doesn’t notice
by the way he quirks his brow, you can tell he does
if you didn’t have a cane holding you in place, you’d have dropped your gaze by now but instead you have no choice but to let him stare you down
“pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he mutters as he lets his face dip in closer until his lips graze against your earlobe, “a dirty little slut by the looks of it too. you’re fooling no one, sweetie.”
his words completely numb your brain until all you can think is mingi, mingi, mingi again and again
but just as he forces your mind to take a nosedive into nothingness, he pulls away
his lips are gone, and the cane is gone, and all of a sudden your boyfriend is standing in front of you with his usual wonky grin
“i have to go back on stage soon, sunshine,” he pouts as he takes his hat off and places it gently on your head, “look after that for me until i’m finished, okay?”
and you nod, because there’s no way you can even begin to form a coherent sentence when your brain is still uselessly chanting his name
“good girl,” he giggles as he spins and passes you his cane before running off towards the stylists
you don’t watch the rest of the performance
you’re not sure you’ll be able to hold it together if you do
so instead you find an abandoned room somewhere backstage with nothing in it other than an old leather couch
you sit there, letting your short skirt lift up as you do so
your wet panties press directly against the leather, but you can’t find it in you to care about the mark it will inevitably leave
no, the only thing on your mind is the ache that sits low in your stomach
you could ignore it, but the longer you do the greater it gets
your clit is begging to be touched at this point, but you don’t know if you should
you don’t know how long you have left until the show is finished, and you have to be out front again to great your boyfriend and pretend that his stupid willy wonka cosplay hasn’t sent you spiralling into the depths of depravity
but judging by the noise outside, you assume that you maybe have 15 minutes until the show is over?
and you can be quick if you really want to
skip the self-foreplay and just go straight for the orgasm that you so desperately desire
with a sigh, you let your hand push your panties to the side and you relish the feeling of the cold air against your wet folds
you whine into the empty room as your fingers begin to rub against your slit, spreading the moisture up and down until you decide your clit is suitably lubed up
your fingers focus there next, rubbing gentle circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves that had been desperately begging for some relief ever since mingi called you a slut
he was kind of right, though
only a slut would be so desperately desperately playing with themselves in a public room, with a door that doesn’t even lock, on a sofa that isn’t theirs
the thought makes you moan, a mixture of anxiety and arousal bubbling up inside of you and causing your fingers to increase their pace
you’re quickly approaching your high, but it’s not enough
it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite push yourself far enough to reach it
you need something inside of you
your eyes flicker to the side, landing on the cane
the head of it is a bulbous orb, and upon studying it for a few seconds, you reach the decision that it’s probably about the same width as your boyfriend’s cock
you whine at the thoughts rushing through your head, but before you can push them away, your idle hand is rushing forwards the grab the stem of the cane and pull it closer
the cold sphere is pressed to your core before you know it, and all it takes is a little pressure before it slips inside with a squelch
it’s cold and big, and it almost makes you squeal as you push it further inside, but god does it feel good
it stretches you open perfectly and you were right about it being the same size as mingi
it pushes at your gooey walls just like he does, and when it brushes against the squishy membrane that feels so fucking good, you finally let go
your orgasm is long and hard and leaves you deaf for just a few seconds
it would be fine, except for the fact that it means you don’t even notice the click of the door opening
“my, my,” a familiar voice grabs your attention and you turn your head quickly to where your boyfriend is shutting the door behind himself, “what do we have here?”
he walks to the corner of the room where an empty desk chair sits and grabs it
you watch as he takes it back the the door, using it to barricade the only way into the room
“dumb slut didn’t even make sure no one else would walk in,” he grunts as he turns to you, stalking closer and closer until he’s able to wrap a hand around your slack jaw, “although i bet you would’ve loved it wouldn’t you?”
you whimper as he crouches down just low enough to wrap a hand around the stem on the cane that still sits inside of you
he twists it once, letting it brush against your g-spot ever so gently
the way your eyes roll into the back of your head just makes him bark out a laugh
“you really were desperate, hm?” he tugs at the cane once more, pulling at it until he manages to completely pull it free
the ball glistens as your wetness coats it, dripping down it slowly
mingi studies it for a second before lifting it up to your face
“lick it clean,” he orders, “you messed it up so it’s your duty to clean it up, right?”
and you can’t argue with that logic, so you don’t
you let your tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the orb before fully wrapping your lips around it
you cheeks hollow out and you try your hardest to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend
but as you dip your head forward, the hat slips and covers your vision
you whine and lift your hand to take it off, but a sharp stinging sensation rings through it and you pull it back
“i thought i told you to look after that until i’m finished, slut,” he pushes it firmly back to where it sat before, “be a good girl and listen.”
mingi pulls the cane free with a pop
part of you expects him to just put it to the side and forget about it for a while as he fucks you into the couch
but instead you feel the thin base of it press against your chest as he pushes you back against the leather
it travels up to your chin so he can lift it once more
and when your eyes settle on his, all you can see is lust
pure, unadulterated lust
the cane retracts briefly, just long enough for mingi to undo his trousers and drop them along with his boxers
and then it’s back at your neck, only this time he’s holding it lengthways between his two hands and using it to pin you down
it’s gentle enough not to hurt you, but there’s still enough pressure for your breath to catch every time you inhale
“now, my little slut,” he grows as he straddles you, hard dick slipping against your folds, “use your pretty little hands and slip me inside, hm?”
you nod, well, as well as you can with a cane pressed against your throat
“y-yes, mingi,” you whimper as your hands go to grasp at the heavy appendage that’s leaking precum against your already stretched out hole
“good slut,” he spits out as you line him up so he can push inside, “let me fuck you just as good as my cane did. let me stretch you out and and fill you up, sweetie. it’s what little sluts like you deserve, isn’t it.”
he begins to thrust rhythmically into you, hips smacking against yours with such vigour and desperation that it reminds you of how you were playing with yourself not too long ago
it’s clear by his pants that he needs it just as bad as you do, and when his pace quickens, you realise that you are the cane in this situation
he’s just using you to get himself off, and fuck that’s hot
the thought makes you clench around him and he grunts loud and deep in response
“f-fucking play with yourself,” he says through clenched teeth, “wanna feel you c-cum around me, sweetie. always feels so good.”
and you do as he says as though it’s law
desperate fingers find your clit, just as they had earlier, and begin to rub sloppy circles against the wet bud
it’s still sensitive from your little self-pleasuring session and you can’t help the way your hips jerk up to meet his own
if his hands were free, you had no doubt he’d pin you down, but for now all he can do is glare
“did i say you could fucking move?” he says through gritted teeth, although the whine that follows it undercuts the domineering tone slightly, “f-fucking stay still or you won’t get anything.”
and you know that isn’t true - mingi’s never left you high and dry before, and you doubt the big softie is about to start now - but it still sends a wave of fear down your spine
sure, you’d already cum tonight, but there’s nothing wrong with being a little greedy
so you focus your mind on keeping your hips glued to the couch as you continue to chase the high that’s getting closer and closer
it happens a lot quicker this time, with an already sensitive clit and your boyfriend’s heavy cock pressing against your cervix again and again
before you know it, your body is quivering slightly and your walls are tightening against your boyfriend
the sensation makes his hips still against yours, and with a breathy moan, he releases his own load deep into you
the pressure of the cane is gone before you know it, quickly replaced by the pressure of mingi’s overgrown body as he lays down on top of you
his hand is quick to knock the top hat off of your head, and you watch as it bounces off of the couch, landing on the floor
fingers lace themselves within your hair and begin to rub against your scalp in a weird, half-hearted massage
“you did so well,” he finally mumbles against your ear, “such a good girl for me, sunshine.”
you nod, tiredly against his neck
“you were hot,” you mutter, “m’sorry i couldn’t wait for you to get here.”
he just chuckles
“you’re kidding, right?” he pushes himself up so he can see you properly, but you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, “walking in on you fucking yourself with my cane was probably the hottest thing i’ve ever seen. i’ll be cumming to that memory forever.”
you giggle
“now come on, sunshine,” he slips out of you and stands up onto shaky legs, “let’s get you up and back to the hotel, okay? i need to take care of you and i’m sure as hell not doing it here.”
he pulls his pants back on and watches as you slip your panties back into place and smooth out your skirt
“good girl,” he whispers, “my good girl.”
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steviewashere · 1 month
Text
If Found, Return to Me
Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1
Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow
👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.
Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”
Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.
Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.
But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”
He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.
And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.
He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”
Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”
She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.
“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”
Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”
In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”
Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“
“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.
——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. ���Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.
Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”
“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“
“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.
He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.
He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.
It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”
“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”
The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’
When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”
“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.
Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”
Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.
——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.
Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”
Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”
And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.
But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.
Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.
Or…Where Steve should have been.
“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.
Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”
There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”
Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.
Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“
“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”
“I didn’t think—“
“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”
“You sure?”
“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”
When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”
Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.
Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.
——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.
At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.
What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.
However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.
Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.
“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”
“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“
“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“
“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”
“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts. 
He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.
Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.
He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”
“Is what—“
“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“
“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”
“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.
He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”
“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”
“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”
Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”
Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”
The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”
“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.
The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.
👕—————👕
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keyotos · 10 months
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the only exception
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summary ⎯ where blade thinks there is no more hope for love, but you may be the only exception.
tags ⎯ soft blade. mentions of blade's past. reader uses his real name (yingxing) like once on accident. emotional rollercoaster. blade goes through the 5 stages of grief except its not grief it's love. blade is bad at feelings.
tana's thoughts ⎯ gave into the voices and i starting writing this.
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the xianzhou is not like it used to be, yet it has not changed that much either. at least, that's what blade noticed as he stood by one of the railings at starskiff haven. he watched the starskiffs come and go as he stood there, motionless.
he had a cup of tea from the tea parlor nearby. some customers wanted him to engage in tea discourse with them because he was an "outworlder," but with one glare from him, they knew better than to press on. so now, he was alone in the dark with sunglasses on.
starskiffs seemed to improve throughout the years. his favorite snack stand was gone, one he used to visit with you. blade tried to ignore the burning sensation in the middle of his chest at the thought. but the stupid mungbean soda vending machines were still there. damn them, he thought.
blade took off his sunglasses momentarily as he rubbed his eyes. sunglasses were obviously meant to be worn in the sun, not in the dark: they were causing him eye strain. he tried to be as subtle as possible, not trying to attract any cloud knights or realm-keeping employees. his face was still on a wanted poster, after all.
"ahem."
blade turned back to find a cloud knight with a mung bean soda in their hand. his mind instantly turned to you, given that you were also a cloud knight who loved mung bean soda (unless that changed as well), but he snapped back to the current situation. he was about to be arrested. the cloud knight cornered him, spear in hand as they slightly lifted up their helmet to take a sip out of their drink.
have cloud knights gotten sloppier? why are they drinking soda when they were about to arrest someone? blade furrowed his eyebrows, but still got into a defensive position.
he was about to swing at the cloud knight until they held their hands up in surrender, "woah, dude," they slowly said, raising their hands up, "i'm not gonna arrest you," they placed their mung bean soda on the railing, and removed their hat.
and it was you. he was just thinking about you, and you appeared. the sight felt surreal. you, who he had been so close with all those years ago. you, who became his first friend on the luofu. you, who still lingered in his mind after all these years, who he thought about even when the mara was affecting him.
you've changed. though you haven't exactly aged, you look older. you look exhausted; your face didn't glow as it used to. blade thinks he is partial to blame for that. your posture is profoundly straight and no longer slouched⎯something you used to struggle with.
the wind blows through your hair, scattering some leaves around with it. your expression is neutral as you throw all your armor on the ground and dust yourself off. there is no smile adorning your face. everything feels so identical, but so different.
his stance softened, but he didn't let up. when you saw that, you only sighed in response. after kicking some stray pieces of armor to the side, you lean your back on the rail as you sipped your soda. the sound of the armor colliding together on the floor made blade cringe.
"i don't actually wear armor, by the way," you swung the drink in his vicinity, offering him a sip using a hand gesture. when he didn't respond, you took another swig. "i have my own uniform. pretty cool, isn't it?" you tilt your head down towards your outfit.
blade doesn't understand. why were you speaking to him as if you two were still friends? could you recognize him under the glasses? it has been so long, he'd be surprised if you recognized him at all.
blade tries to maintain his cover. he is silent while you raise an eyebrow inquisitively, wondering why this stranger wasn't responding to you. you're waiting for him to speak, blade notices. he doesn't say anything. you tilt your head to the side, and blade tilts his head the other way.
you sigh, "you know, not many people are out here so late," you sip out of your soda can, looking at blade while he looks at the starskiffs. you continue, "an old friend of mine used to do this. we'd go out every night and create elaborate stories about strangers, and then stare at starskiffs."
you're telling blade about himself. or, his past self anyway. there's a present ache in his heart, hearing how you speak about him. blade feels like an imposter, standing here with sunglasses on while you talk about him. you sound melancholic, like you miss him. a stupid thing for you, blade thought.
"he's gone now," you turned and leaned forward, now watching the starskiffs with blade. he gets a sense of deja vu, and the feeling sends chills all over his body. you rest your head on your arms on the rail, "i miss him though. he was a little awkward, but he was kind."
"and sometimes," you turn your head towards blade, "he was a little annoying. like he would keep hating on my soda," you hold your soda up to blade, but all he could think about was how you just called him annoying, "or he'd force me to go to bed early. coddle me. nag at me to do my laundry⎯that was very annoying. like, hello? i'm an adult, i could totally do my own laundry," you ranted as you watched the starskiffs.
"maybe you should've done your laundry earlier," he mumbled to himself. he made sure it was low enough that only he would be able to hear it. if you noticed, you didn't say anything; you were still focused on the starskiffs passing by.
blade takes the time to look at you. to study you. it felt like everything about you was so different, but you were still the same. you still chatted about anything to strangers (something he always chided you about). you still drank mung bean soda. you didn't have that growth spurt you dreamed about.
but you were quieter. ironic, because you just jabbered about the annoyances blade had caused you years ago. but you didn't give out too many details. you didn't mouth off about what tea parlor was best, or recent gossip from earlier. you kept things to yourself. blade doesn't know if he should be happy or not.
something was off. there was a wall between you now. and it felt so wrong. blade knows he isn't entitled to anything⎯not anymore, at least. but the feeling of disconnect between two people who were once rooted together physically pained him. even with everything that has happened, he did not want to see you like this.
"i hope he visits soon," you look at him with eyes that glitter among the stars. you're still hopeful; that has not changed. you speak like the sun is shining in your body, and your words are laced with warmth that eases enough for blade to let his guard down. that's when he realized that you're still glowing, and you never stopped.
but your words also bring a stabbing pain into his heart. why are you still longing for him? you should have moved on. you should have found someone better for you. someone who will not harm you at any given moment. but here you are, missing him. hoping he comes back.
"seriously? i just told you that i missed you and hoped you came back, and you say nothing??" you grimaced, looking exasperated. there's a slight crack in the wall now, but blade doesn't notice.
he had other things to concentrate on. like what you just said.
blade did not find this very amusing. his eyes widened underneath his sunglasses and he took a few steps back. after all these years, you could still find him in a crowd full of people. it was love he did not deserve, yet still begrudgingly craved.
"how did you know it was me?" was all blade could utter. he was too alarmed to ask any other questions, or press on your story. or to ask more about you.
you glower and huff, "so he does speak," you cross your arms over the railing as you turn to make eye contact with your past ally.
"how did you know?" blade snarled. he didn't intend for his words to come out as harsh as they did, and the moment they left his mouth, he wanted to shove the words back in and eat them. he had forgotten how you made him feel like an idiot sometimes just by doing absolutely nothing.
your eyes widen and your eyebrows slightly jump up; blade wishes he could erase that expression from his head permanently. however, instead of reacting to it, your composure remains calm. it unsettles blade; he has never seen you so calm before. when you two were young, you got into arguments with those who barely picked a fight with you. you were straightforward and aggressive: blade shouldn't have admired that about you, but nevertheless, he did.
you're less temperamental, and blade doesn't know if he likes it or not. he was worried. after a lifetime of emptiness and recklessness, blade worries. he worries about you: your life, your job, your wellbeing. he worries if you got promoted or not, or if you're living happily.
do you have a partner? blade tries to ignore the flames surrounding his heart as he thinks about your love life.
"oh please. after all the years we've spent together, you'd think i wouldn't be able to spot you in a crowd?" you let out a dry and curt laugh, "just because your hair got darker and you changed your outfit, does not mean you are unrecognizable."
"not to me, anyway," you quietly add, turning your gaze away from him and back to the starskiffs. there's an overwhelming feeling that was welling up in blade's body. it wasn't mara, because it felt more peaceful. but the urge was still strong. he wanted to grab your chin and turn you back towards him; he wanted you to look at him again and explain. to tell him about everything. he doesn't care about the topic, but he will listen no matter what.
blade feels foolish. how could one conversation (if you could even call this a conversation) make him feel so lovestruck? every single feeling for you⎯that he thought he had discarded a long time ago⎯reappeared out of thin air. it all came rushing back at him: your personality, your terrible jokes, and every single thing he grew to love about you. blade tried so hard to dismiss those feelings in the past century, and in the midst of a few minutes, all his past work crumbled.
when blade doesn't say anything, you take a sip out of your drink. the silence is tense; it is opposed to the once comfortable silences you two shared while watching starskiffs. blade thinks that, in another life, nothing would have changed: he would not have become mara-struck, and you two would watch starskiffs fly for hours on end.
but everything has changed now. and there's no going back to fix it. blade will shove down every morsel of affection he feels for you again. and this time, they won't come back up. starting tonight.
you give him a small smile, "so, wanna tell me what you've been up to?"
he will shove down every morsel of affection. starting tomorrow night. another crack in the wall between the both of you.
the feeling of wanting to capture someone's smile is maddening. you drive him crazy, and you make him more insane than mara ever could. all of this because of one smile? blade pictures your small smile once again. it's incomparable to your true smile, though. one where you're showing all your teeth and your eyes crinkle with such bemusement it drives him amuck.
once he pictures your toothy smile, he sinks deeper into the talons of endearment.
"aren't you supposed to arrest me?" he deflects, trying to stem away from his previous lovesick thoughts. maybe, if you arrest him now, he could flee from the luofu forever. maybe then, he'd have a reason to avoid you for life.
you make a 'pfft' noise with your mouth, and the sound is familiar and stupid. it has no reason to make his heart flutter the way it just did.
"if i wanted to arrest you, then you'd be in the hall of karma ages ago," you boast, "luckily for you though, i'm on a break."
"didn't know cloud knights slacked off now," blade rolls his eyes under his sunglasses. he thinks that if he's rude enough towards you, then you'd get the message that he's changed, and you would leave. he's not the same person he was before. if he didn't deserve you back then, he most definitely did not deserve you now.
"well, i'm not a cloud knight anymore," you step closer to him, "i'm a lieutenant."
so you got promoted. blade deeply tries to ignore how his breaths get more shallow after the mention of your promotion.
instead of congratulating you, blade instead replies with, "so you're the same rank as that kid that follows the general around?"
your face falls, and dread swarms throughout his body, spreading through every vein and artery and organ. every regret blade has does not compare with whatever he just said. blade finds that, whenever he thinks about regret, your face has always remained through his sea of remorse. you are the one thing he regrets in many different ways.
blade regrets meeting you. he regrets indulging in your offers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. he regrets spending his nights with you. he regrets every time his heart leapt multiple beats whenever you were near. he regrets letting his guard down around you, because even now⎯whenever he is with you⎯he feels incredibly relaxed, despite not having to see you in centuries.
he regrets you. he regrets not being able to say goodbye to you. he regrets leaving you with so many qualms. he regrets not being able to see you change. he regrets the fact that he never got to confess to you. he regrets the fact that he still loves you, because why else would he be feeling this way?
the idiot keeps his mouth shut, even though he wants to apologize. "i didn't mean it," he wanted to say, "i'm sure you are very capable now. you stand up more straighter and you look more put together. not that you didn't look put together before. well, actually you didn't, but that's not the point."
it occured to blade that he was rambling about you in his mind. he was describing you in his mind. he was going crazy. nobody else notices these things about you. but blade physically could not tear his eyes away from you. the more he stared, the more he noticed more: such as the way your shoulders were more upright, your breathing was slow and even, and you surprisingly didn't look like you wanted to kill him. the you from centuries ago would have thrown him off the ledge.
you sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose, "i see you've met yanqing."
blade says nothing, which simply prompts you to keep talking. a tiny slither of comfort enter's blade's body: it was refreshing to see that after years, some things will never change.
"he's jing yuan's retainer," blade internally (and bitterly) revels in the fact that you don't use any formalities with jing yuan anymore, "he can be a bit... much. but it makes sense. he's only a kid, you know? i like him," you move your soda can to the side to make room for your arms. you're leaning on the railing again, and you were not looking at blade anymore. it should not scatter uneasiness around his nerves.
he wants to share an anecdote of his own. blade yearns for connection with you for just once more. when he is around you, there's an ache in his heart. it was always there; past and present. he thought it would be subtle, like a symptom of a short-term illness. but soon he realized, the symptom he shrugged off was a manifestation of something bigger. and blade never truly recognized how long his sickness would last. because here he is right now, sick as a dog in your presence.
if wanting to fuel your everlasting fire was a sickness, blade decided that he would be diagnosed as terminal.
blade tsks at your statement. you are not impressed; your face looking slack and skeptical. there have been many times where he has been on the receiving end of that look, yet he feels the air swirl all around in his stomach every time you look at him that way. he also tries to slow his heart rate down: there should be no reason why he should be elated at the fact that you're looking at him.
"don't give me that," you cross your arms, "he reminds me of you," you pause, letting the silence overtake the both of you. there are so many unsaid things that the silence feels full, yet still too quiet. you know that the past is a sensitive topic for blade (and you as well, but you choose to dwell on that another night).
"back when we were kids, anyway," you quickly add on.
blade scoffs. scoffs. he does not see himself in yanqing, and he also does not know how you came up to that conclusion. it was ridiculous and strange. blade had to fight a scowl off his face: yanqing and him were nothing alike. if anything, the child was the spitting image of the general.
at least time hasn't changed your terrible analogies.
"terrible?" you point a finger at him, nearing his sunglasses. oh. he said that out loud. "i'll have you know, my analogies are great!"
"you compared me to yanqing, who resembles jing yuan the most," blade shifts his head to the side as he crosses his arms. your finger made his glasses shift down slightly. he could see you a lot better now without the dark obstructing his view, and he internally curses at the wanted posters for being the (indirect) reason he has to wear the glasses.
you let out a sound of disbelief, which resembled blade's scoff and your huff from earlier, "first of all, i was describing temperament. second, terrible?!?"
"if you were describing temperament, then that child would be your twin," he says, trying to fight off the feeling of his lips turning up. this feels familiar. it feels homely, almost. the world melts away when he is around you. every person, place, worry: disintegrated away by your warmth. did you know that? how do you do that? how do you make all the problems in the world disappear so easily?
you let out a breathy laugh, turning away from blade one more time. except, this time, you turn back, a grin evident on your face. it's dark in starskiff haven at the moment, but blade is sure that he just saw the sun in your smile. out of his peripheral vision, he looks to see if anyone else has noticed. have they noticed the light coming from you? how do they notice notice it?
the world continues to move, but with you, it seems that everything is perfectly still.
"i'll have you know, i worked on that whole temperament thing," you held up a hand to his face, "i'm chill now."
"oh really?" blade skeptically raises an eyebrow. you can see it through the crack in his facade left by the sunglasses. you can see his eyes a little bit more clearer.
"oh yeah," you drag out, taking a long sip of your soda. you turn on your back and spread your arms across the railings, mimicking a tired soldier, "i'm chill."
and this feels so normal, like if it was a typical night on the luofu. you and him spending time together once again. everything fell back into place so easily, as if the events of all those years ago never happened. why was it so easy?
various emotions coarse through his body, each feeling worse than the last. he can't stay. he can't live. he knows that the longer he stays here with you, the harder leaving you gets. but things have changed, even if you have not. you probably couldn't even love him the same either, logistically speaking. there were too many obstacles standing between the both of you: loving him was impossible.
he still does not understand why you still speak to him.
greeted by his silence, you choose to continue the conversation further, "this soda really helped," you slide the drink over to him again, "it's been a few years. you should try it again."
"a few years, huh?" blade eyes the drink. biggest understatement of the year.
"yeah," you eye him. your eyes are telling him to say something. blade, in all of his fearlessness, is scared. he has not been scared in a long time. the feelings of fear rushing back into him leave him stranded to his own devices, and he has no clue how to react. he used to turn to you for these things, but now, you are the reason for his fear.
you step closer to him. you are close enough that your shoulders are now touching. when you speak, blade tries to control the agitation growing in the pit of his stomach. destructive thoughts impede and pervase through his mind.
"they hate you."
"things will never be the same."
"whatever you had once, it has all gone down the drain now."
"please try the mung bean soda."
what?
blade snapped out of his head to see you holding up your drink right next to his face. he leaned his head backwards as he was met with your pleading eyes.
you took him out of his trance like it was nothing. you didn't have abilities like kafka did, yet you were able to take him out of his spiral using only six words. how was it that everything surrounding you became so easy?
"i'm not drinking that," blade says with a stern voice. he hopes that his glasses hide the panic that was once apparent in his eyes.
"c'mon," you begged, "just one sip⎯"
"why are you even doing this?" blade irritatedly snapped.
you raise an eyebrow and pretend to not know what he was talking about, "because i want you to try new things...?"
"you know what i mean."
you set down the soda can again and let out a long sigh. you run your hands through your hair, and blade thinks this is it. this is the moment where you snap back like you usually would. this is the part where you tell him that he should leave. he's too difficult, too hard to love.
"did you think i was lying back when i said i missed you?" your entire face softened. there was no light-heartened smirk or grin. you look sad. there are no other words to describe how else you look except sad. blade could not think of any other words. all he could focus on was you.
"i wasn't lying," you say, sounding more desperate than before, "i miss you so much, yin⎯blade." your tone turns sharp when you say his name now. this is it, blade tells himself, this is the part where you leave.
"you matter to me," you eunicate, "i still believe in you. i don't care about the past; i'm not letting it hold me back. which, i know is probably wrong on some level, but i don't care. because i miss you a lot."
"it's not even the fact that i miss us from before," you're rambling now. blade does not have the heart to stop you, "but i just miss you. blade or yingxing, i couldn't care less. i miss our late night talks, so when i saw you here tonight, i jumped at the opportunity to talk to you," you threw your hands up in the air, and then ran another hand through your hair, "and when we spoke⎯even with everything that happened⎯everything felt so easy while talking to you. and everything was okay. and i just wanted that so badly," your voice trailed off. blade swore he could hear it crack a little.
you had felt the same way he did. blade does not know if he was just consumed by an overwhelming sense of air flowing through his chest, or feeling something drop in his chest after you said what you said.
"sorry," you had nothing to apologize for, "i just word-dumped on you," you were using another one of your weird terms again, "i just wanted to let you know that i've always missed you. i've missed everything about you. and i don't want to let you go."
i still love you.
you don't say that. you finish your tangent with a long sigh and another swig of your soda can. it's almost empty. mentally, you feel like that soda can right now. you just dumped years worth of feelings on blade, and he responds with silence.
this is it, you think, this is where he leaves.
but he doesn't. he brings you closer. blade grabs your wrist before you can put the drink back down, and he brings the can to his lips. he faces the fact that he just put his lips where yours were. for a brief second, he imagines that he was pressing his lips onto yours⎯not the soda can.
blade takes back everything he said earlier. he does not regret you whatsoever. he yearns for you. he needs you to function. he wants you: all the time.
he does not regret meeting you. he is not a believer of gods, but he wants to praise whichever higher power that allowed your fate to intertwine with his. he does not regret spending every moment of his time with you; those have been some of the happiest memories in his life.
most of all, he does not regret loving you, because who would regret the warmth of an everlasting flame?
love has been something blade has lived without for many years. but it all comes back so effortlessly with you. and now he realizes why: he loves you like air fans flames. he will keep on giving into your love, so long as you are still there. it doesn't matter when or where: it just matters if you are there.
"i thought you didn't like mung bean soda," you look at his ear rather than his face, not ready for rejection.
"you wanted me to try something new, didn't you?" blade only looked at you, wrist still in hand. he ponders how he was ever scared of your love.
“i didn’t think you would try it so soon,” you pathetically laughed.
“sooner than you’d think,” he quietly mumbled, only so the two of you could hear it. his fingers were grasping the top of your hands as he still held onto your wrist.
“look,” you place the drink down, slinking your hand out of blade’s hold, “i know you’re probably going to be gone soon. that’s fine. couldn’t really expect you to stay because of your… you know. job,” you awkwardly explain, tucking your hands behind your back.
“but,” you sounded more optimistic, and it seemed as though the street lights all lit up, “you know that friend i was telling you about? the annoying one?” blade rolls his eyes, you only laugh at his reaction, “i hope that he visits more often.”
hope. you hope for him to come back. you hope for more. blade hopes for more too. he wants more, actually. craves it.
but he plays hard to get, “well, if you keep calling your friend ‘annoying’ i doubt he’ll visit as often as you’d like,” and he smirks. you have to bite your lip, hard, to restrain your giddy smile.
“well, i was just telling it as it is,” and it’s easy again. and you want this as much as blade does. and this is hope. this is hope that, even after everything, you’re still here and love is still alive. the wall is broken so easily.
“mhm, okay.”
“yup!”
“i’ll see if i can sort something out,” blade tells you, taking another drink of your soda. he’s emptied at this point. he’s only taking the “drink” so he could try to hide his (growing) blush from you.
“i thought you ‘weren’t going to visit’ as often,” you pouted, rolling your eyes.
“well, i never said that. i said your friend was going to do that. just giving you some advice, that’s all,” he teased. you felt your heart swell up: everything was going to be fine.
“your advice is shit.”
“you’re shit.”
yeah. everything will be okay.
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if this looks familiar it’s bc this is an expanded ver of the xianzhou men hcs i did like a week ago. this was from blades part and i liked it sm i wrote more. wish i could have done the end a little bit more justice but i am TIREDDDD it was 4:30 in the morning.
but if u made it all the way down here i hope u enjoyed!! i put my tanussy in this and i wrote for like 5 hrs so pls enjoy LMAO
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poisonous-honey · 4 months
Text
Just Unbuilt, Or Am I Unwanted?
As you try to improve Xiao's build for the 100th time, some of the others finally lose their patience
Who's Here! Amber, Aether, Lyney, Childe, and Paimon. The reader/player is off to the side with Xiao
Contains: Self Aware Genshin/SAGAU (Not The Cult), Childe being stupid (Childe slander), Angst if you squint but it's really just crack
Notes: Saw the idea from @devildomangel and kinda just ran with it. Because I took the idea from her Xiao is the player's main unit in this. Which is kinda unfortunate cause that means he's only talked about lol
---
Walking through Mondstadt, Amber is on her way to Good Hunter for her lunch break when she sees the traveller apparate before the fountain. His appearance usually means the player has logged on again so she swiftly abandons her lunch plans and rushes over to the traveller, waving her arms in greeting.
“Hey traveller! Welcome back to the land of the living!”
Aether turns in Amber’s direction before giving her a little smile and waving back. 
“Hey Amber. Good to be back.”
“Has the player finally logged on again?”
He sighs. It’s just his luck the first person he talks to wants to talk more about you than him. 
“Yeah.”
“What’re their plans today?”
And of course it’s just his luck he has to crush their spirits. What a wonderful way to start his day.
“... What do you think”
Amber pouts at that. You promised you’d build her sometime ago, but it feels like it’s been a year since you said that, and she’s still only level 60! She’s been sitting here off to the side for how long while your ‘darling’ is getting all your love and attention. There are so many characters that deserve some time, promises of stronger builds that need to be fulfilled, but you just won’t! Either you're willingly not doing it or you just forgot. She doesn’t know which one’s worse.
“A-are you sure? Maybe they’re going to work on someone else today! Maybe they’re going to work on Collei, or Lynette, o-or-”
“Amber please,” Aether sighs again and looks quite exasperated as he turns to Amber “... It’s Xiao again.”
As Amber is about to try and counter his claim, they hear the teleport waypoint activate and quickly hide out of view of the camera.
“Kathryn, expeditions, blacksmith, uhh I think I have to go to the Serenitea Pot today- wait what domain was I going to do again?”
Peaking around Marjorie’s shop, they watch as you hand in the daily commissions you didn’t do. Amber was hoping to hear you talk about anyone else to prove Aether wrong please prove him wrong while he wanted to make sure Amber didn’t do anything rash.
“Oh right I was going to farm Marechaussee Hunter today.”
Sparkles appeared in Amber’s eyes as she quickly turned to Aether, “Did you hear that? That’s the Denouncement of Sin domain-”
“It’s actually Denouement of Sin.”
“Oh! Thank you, but more importantly it’s not The Lost Valley! That means it’s not Vermillion Hereafter which means it’s not Xiao!”
Aether doesn’t know if he should be amused or sad for her. “Just give it a second.”
She tilts her head “Why would-”
“With Hunters Xiao basically has 60 CRT rate off hop. Paired with Jade Spear it’s 80… something. I’d barely need any CRT rate rolls and can stack so much CRT damage and ATK. It probably won’t be that much better than the sets I already have, but funny numbers win in the end time to farm for his fourth set!”
You teleport away, none the wiser to the despair you just put Amber in. All Aether does is pat her back before getting ready to teleport himself.
“I tried to warn you not to get your hopes up.”
Amber barely hears him as she drowns herself in self-pity. Looking like a husk of the person she is “... He’s getting a fourth. I don’t even have one.”
Aether winces, but can’t think of anything to say that might lift her spirits. He doesn’t think there is anything that can, so he teleports to Fontaine.
---
As he lands at the closest waypoint north of the domain and starts walking towards it, he notices a certain top hat individual staring in the direction of Denouement of Sin. As Aether gets closer he hastily turns around upon hearing his footsteps. Getting over his slight panic he brightly smiles.
“Oh ho if it isn’t the traveller! What brings you to this part of Fontaine during such a fine afternoon?’
“I’m here to keep an eye on our player Lyney. As usual. Seeing as you’re not making your way over to the domain I assume you’re not here to do the same?” Aether questions in a deadpan voice and crosses his arms, not up to deal with Lyney’s antics at the moment.
Lyney’s lips twitch downwards and a look of sadness crosses his face for a split second before he puts up his smile again. “Getting right to it, I see. Well I actually was here to watch our dear player, since they are technically farming for me as well today, but on my way over I happened to notice someone enter the side entrance to the domain. That’s not so suspicious on its own, but they were being awfully secretive about it.”
Aether’s eyes widen “Wait. Do you think they’re going to the backroom where the artifact codes are?”
“Bingo! I had stopped to ponder what my next course of action should be, leave and get help or spy on them by myself, when you just so happened to show up! Don’t you think we should go see what they’re up to?”
---
Aether and Lyney quietly enter the hidden side entrance in the mountain. Spawning on the outer regions of the domain they swiftly make their way to the backroom through the trees while trying not to slip on the wet grass into the water.
After a few close calls and one save from a floating jellyfish, they jump from the broken bridge into the backroom behind the Petrified Tree. There, standing in front of a clear screen with a heap of intelligible jargon and surrounded by machinery and wires is-
“Childe?” “Master Tartaglia?”
“Oh hello comrades!” He turns around and waves. Like he didn’t just enter territory that the Archons personally had restricted.
Seeing Childe standing over the console with the code open alarms both the other men at the scene.
Aether ignores him and sharply walks over to turn off the console when Childe blocks his path. Aether sends him the hardest glare he could.
“What do you think you’re doing Childe?”
“Hm? Oh, you mean the code! I’m just looking there’s no need for you two to worry!”
“With all due respect Master Tartaglia,” Lyney interjects as politely as he could to his superior while still being stern “That’s not exactly believable when barely anyone in Teyvat can even understand the player's written language.”
They all stand there in silence for a second before they hear Xiao’s plunge attacks and your laughs from the room over. This ticks off Childe more than he’d like to admit.
“Okay you got me I wasn’t initially here to just look, but, like you said, I can’t decipher what any of this means, so I was going to leave it alone anyway.”
Aether puts his hands on his hips with a disappointed look while Lyney crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.
“So what were you going to do before?”
Childe turns back to the code “Well I was wondering if changing the rates to impossible odds would convince our dear player to finally see that they don’t need to work on some washed up warrior anymore and start building someone else for a change.”
In exasperation Aether pinches the bridge of his nose “Do you really not realize how stupid your plan is?”
“What no it’s great. After a little while they’d realize that continuing to build this guy is a waste of time when he’s been done for so long already. Maybe it’d get them to finally finish my own artifacts.”
“Doing this would cause the opposite effect of what you’re looking for. Just wait your turn.”
“It hasn’t been my turn in ages, comrade.”
Aether getting increasingly more done with this conversation pulls his sword out at Childe. “Step away from the console.”
Childe forms his hydro weaponry in retaliation and points one in Aether’s direction “Like you can get me to do anything by only pointing a sword in my direction.”
Lyney, realizing that starting a fight while the console is still on and the code still visible might not be the best idea, goes to step in between them. “Listen I don’t think-”
“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!?”
“Paimon?”
The outburst from Paimon causes Lyney to instantly turn around, and he loses his footing, causing him to fall straight into Childe. Childe in turn quickly puts his hand onto the wall next to him to stabilize himself and keep Lyney from crashing into the floor.
Childe pushes himself off the wall and puts Lyney back into a standing position. 
“Thanks, I-” Lyney suddenly stops and stares in horror behind him.
“What? What is it?”
Childe turns around and sees the jagged hole in the screen and the machinery behind it. It stutters and flickers, scrambling the code before finally shutting down. He winces when he realizes he forgot to make his hydro weapons fade away. He tries to shrug it off, but can’t help the feeling this is the worst way his issue could’ve been solved.
“Well, I guess that’s one way to solve a problem?”
They all look at him in disbelief and soon Paimon is stomping in the air angrily.
“UGH! Paimon didn’t take you to be this big of an idiot! How did this happen? Why are you all even here??”
“We were following Master Tartaglia to see what he was up to. He wanted to change the artifact rates to be near impossible. He didn’t explain what about the rates he was even changing.”
Paimon backs in shock “WHAT? Why would you even do that. How does that solve any problem you could be having?”
For the second time Childe tries to get his opinion across. “Once the player sees they’re not getting anything good from this domain, surely they’ll pivot and work on someone else. Preferably me.”
“PAIMON CAN’T BELIEVE PAIMON’S OPINION OF YOU COULD GET ANY LOWER! That’s not what’s going to happen at all! All the player is going to think is that they’re getting really unlucky and will keep trying. Why would getting ‘unlucky’ make them try to build someone else when they think the artifact rates are the same everywhere. It’s just going to make building Xiao take even longer!”
It finally sinks into his head how bad this decision of his was and pure dread spreads across his face. 
He grabs Aether by his shoulder and swings his free arm in the general direction of the broken code “No wait surely we can fix this. It was just an accident I didn’t mean to actually go through with it.”
Aether sighs and crosses his arms “I’m sure the only beings capable of fixing this mess are the Archons.”
Hearing that the Archons might have to get involved stresses Lyney out of his mind.  “Are you sure? I can’t see the gods taking kindly to us even entering this room in the first place, let alone destroying the code.”
“I could ask if Albedo knows how. Though I doubt he’d fix it much faster than someone like the dendro Archon could.”
Paimon nods along with the traveller “Yeah! He’d also treat you way worse than the dendro Archon since it’s the player you’re upsetting. Nahida is probably your best option.”
“What do you mean ‘your’? This is partly your fault too Paimon.”
Paimon starts to argue with Aether that she was barely in the room, so there’s no way it could be her fault, while Lyney silently hopes Lynette is doing well. Childe wants to argue he could handle anything that either god or human would throw at him, before your voice suddenly rings throughout the room. 
“Damn nothing again? I guess I just started, but I’d like to get something with at least CRT damage. I just want to see some funny numbers game.”
Paimon leaves them to their frenzy, discretely slipping back to your side. The three hooligans all look at each other before hurriedly exiting the domain and rushing to Sumeru to get anyone to try and fix it.
You get nothing good out of that domain for the rest of the month.
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