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hp-hcs · 3 months

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(he/him pronouns) would you be interested in writing a more dominant darling/a darling who's a top? i see so often where darlings are bottoms or submissive, but i think it be so interesting to see how delighted characters like enzo would be when his darling finally just responds to him and even takes the reigns. i think you write him as someone more subtle and less obvious in his use of force towards getting the darling to respond, so i think he'd be one of the most overjoyed if his darling was to react in a way he never expected (though it's very, very welcomed)

(i'm focusing more on enzo here since i find him most interesting, but if you'd like to include other characters, i wouldn't mind) nsfw or spicy-adjacent please! men who whimper are just exquisite and it is a need to spread this agenda. there's nothing to avoid here, throw in whatever you see fit: gore, alcohol, cursing, smoking, have your fun!

OHOHOHOOH HOLY SHIT YES

• smut • shut up — yandere! submissive! enzo berkshire x male! dominant! reader

he’s my little sweetie pie and/or bitch

warnings: dubcon—sexual acts performed under the influence of alcohol, amab anatomy for reader, oral sex (performed on reader), light/moderate yandere behaviors, dominant/submissive roles, pet names, degradation (not really) & praise

guess what! i actually wrote semi-okay (?) smut for once! and it’s actually kind of descriptive this time!

⛔️ smut ahead! MDNI! ⛔️

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Okay, it calls for…two sprigs of box elder next,” your project partner and general nuisance Enzo Berkshire read aloud from the Potions textbook. He dug through the sachet of ingredients and pulled out a cluster of leaves, holding them out to you and shooting you a winning smile. “I picked these for you, handsome.”

You looked up from where you were stirring the cauldron with a bored expression. “That’s poison ivy.”

Berkshire dropped the leaves with a startled sound, hastily wiping his fingers on his robes.

You just rolled your eyes and sighed. “Fucking dumbass.”

~~~

“Y/n!”

You turned around, startled. Enzo waved cheerily at you with that big dumb stupid grin on his big dumb stupid face.

“Berkshire, I mean this in the nicest way possible. How the fuck did you know where I was?”

“Oh, you always go to Hogsmeade at noon on Sundays!”

“Dude, why the fuck do you know that?”

~~~

“What the hell were you doing?”

You turned around at the demanding voice and insistent tugging on your sleeve.

Enzo Berkshire was glowering behind you, his arms crossed over his chest and a red solo cup in hand.

“Wh- oh, it’s you,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you talking to Nott?” The scent of alcohol was thick on his breath, although you weren’t really much better.

You scoffed. “Because I can?”

“Well, I don’t like it,” he sneered. “He’s a fuckboy. He’ll break your heart.”

“And? I can make my own decisions.”

“No you can’t!” He snapped, crowding further into your space. No one else at the crowded common room party even seemed to notice this mild squabble.

You opened your mouth to retort when he grabbed your sleeve again and stumbled down the hall to his dorm, dragging you along with him despite your halfhearted protests.

~~~

The door had barely clicked shut before you shoved him up against the wall.

He flinched back at the suddenness of your reaction, scrambling for anything to hold onto to regain his balance. “Wh-”

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once, so listen up,” your voice dropped to a deadly low tone and your grip on him tightened in warning. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Enzo’s eyes widened and he whimpered.

You paused at the sound, an eyebrow quirking up.

“Did you seriously just fucking whimper?”

His cheeks turned bright red and he looked away.

You guided his gaze back toward yours with a firm hand on his jaw. “I asked you a question.”

Enzo swallowed nervously, his eyes darting around before he nodded slightly.

“Words.”

“Y-yes,” his voice cracked halfway through the word.

“Good boy,” you said sarcastically, releasing your grip on him and trying to ignore the way that your own cheeks flushed.

He whimpered again, his hands instinctively reaching out for you as you moved away. “No, wait-”

That did it for you. The combination of teenage stupidity, alcohol, and the little noises he made created a Molotov cocktail of lowered inhibitions.

Kaboom.

Without thinking, you cut him off with a searing kiss and shoved him back against the wall again.

He whined softly, his hands pawing frantically at your chest and trying to drag you closer by the tight grip he had on your shirt.

You smacked his hands away, pinning them up against the wall with a tight grip on his wrists.

You split apart, both breathing heavily. His cheeks were flushed a bright red and he looked quite startled—either by your reaction or his own, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Uh-” Enzo cleared his throat, trying desperately to regain control of the situation. “S-so you do like me! I knew it!”

You rolled your eyes, your hands releasing their grip on his wrists and wandering down to his hips. “Shut up.”

He grinned cheekily, his eyes narrowing in a (poor) attempt at seduction. “Oh yeah? Tell me, would I be coming off too strong if I asked you to get on your knees for me, darlin’?”

You snickered.

His over-confident smirk faltered at the sound.

“Oh no…darlin’.” you grinned shrewdly, drawing your hands back. “I don’t get on my knees for anyone.”

You punctuated your point with two heavy hands on his shoulders, firmly guiding him downwards.

Enzo made a startled noise and went down surprisingly easily. He kneeled down at your feet without a second thought and rested his hands on your thighs, looking up at you with blown wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

You petted the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair in a patronizing way—like he was nothing more than a dog.

“What, not much of a big-talker now?”

He gulped.

You caressed Enzo’s cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone. “Go on, pup. Why don’t you make me feel good, hm?”

You could physically see his pupils dilate at the nickname. His hands scrambled to unfasten the button of your trousers, yanking them down mid-thigh.

You drew in a sharp breath, caught off guard by his enthusiasm.

Enzo wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around the base of your dick. He licked a long stripe up it, promptly wrapping his mouth around it and looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes and fluttering lashes.

“Shit- fuck- so fuckin’ good, babe. S-so good for me,” you gasped, carding your fingers through his hair.

He moaned softly around you at the praise, the vibrations from which sent sparks dancing up your spine.

“Merlin- darlin’, y-you-” your free hand shot forward to grip onto the wall behind him, keeping you steady as your legs shook.

Invigorated by the obvious effect he was having on you, Enzo redoubled his efforts to bring you to your breaking point.

It didn’t take long.

With only your hand tightening in his hair as a warning, your orgasm hit you like a truck. You could’ve sworn your vision went white for a second.

As soon as you regained your bearings, you yanked him up by the front of his shirt and immediately kissed him with a “good boy” mumbled against his lips. His hips bucked frantically against your hip and he let out a pleading whine.

You shushed him softly with a kiss pressed against the base of his throat, your fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

Your hand dove into his trousers the second you got the button undone, your fingers wrapping around his dick with no further preamble.

Enzo whined, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and holding onto your shoulders with trembling fingers.

“Oh? Is all this for me, pup?” You teased softly, your hand beginning to move in a fast but steady rhythm.

At his sweet and quiet moan, you kissed the spot where his jaw curved behind his ear.

He full on whimpered yet again.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to last long.

His fingers began to dig into your shoulders as he clung to you for support. “Y/- oh, Y/n- I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead, sweetheart.”

His body shook and quivered under your touch as he fell apart with a high pitched whine. He clung onto your shoulders as his legs threatened to give out from underneath him.

You quickly grabbed onto his waist to steady him, his breath coming out in short pants.

“You’re okay, you’re alright. Deep breath…that’s it, good boy,” you mumbled reassuringly, tracing a random pattern with your fingers into his hip.

He huffed out a laugh as his breathing slowly returned to normal. “Aww, look at you being all sweet and cute. Big tough guy with a heart of gold.”

“I see you’re still an ass, Berkshire.”

“I get the feeling you love my ass, L/n.”

“…shut up.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

smut tag list — join by request ONLY

@jaythes1mp @slytherinboysappreciation

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #x male reader #x reader #enzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #yandere enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire #hp smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #amab reader

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alistairsmonstercafe · 4 months

Text

SFW 141 With a Dolphin Hybrid Reader

NOTICE; GN/Male Reader

ADDITIONAL; I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.

INSPIRATION; @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr

NOTE; To them you probably sound like a person who gets high off poison lets be honest.. Fuckin' Dolphins.. (I love them)

When Price first recruits you, he instantly knows you'll be a fucking great swimmer with those tail and fins, and marvels at the fact you're able to still breathe out of water.

Price takes notice of both your playful or reserved nature, and while he doesn't mind it, it'll be hell once you meet Soap.

Price is sure to train you for more on land situations, after all, there aren't as many missions in the water compared to the land, and he hopes you don't catch him smoking. He isnt sure how well your lungs could handle it on top of being on land.

Although Price gets a little concerned when you get a little too close to the pufferfish nearby on tropical missions..

Soap takes notice of you pretty early on, his nose is sharp when he smells the ocean on you, and gets excited at such a unique scent. And if you're as fast as you say, you know you'll both be racing around the militarys pool. (You, often win of course, but Soap still attempts it.)

Soap hears of the way you consider your family a pod, as he considers the 141 a pack. Purring at the thought of possibly hunting together for the group sometime!

Soap isnt as vocal with his sounds like Gaz in comparison to Price or Ghost, but still loud enough. He sounds like a motor engine, purring and cooing at your little clicks, whistles, and squeals.

Soap who also notices you have like, no fucking body hair. Like hello? You dont seem to have much of an odor and not much hair, lucky bastard is all he can grumble out, but he doesn't mean it to much to heart.

Its Gaz who's able to almost mimic your sounds back, he's trilling and chirping to you happily while the other guys watch in mild interest at your little chirp fest. It's only unless they get interrupted that Gaz returns a little more reserved with a grin on his face after what just happened.

Gaz who admires your personal whistle, its sharp and keen, almost like his own call, and you two are both quick to use it during missions.

Gaz who notices how much you eat, and hell is amused compared to concerned and even urges you to eat more, unaware of your second stomach. Its until you tell him that hes surprised that one stomach is for storage and the other, actual consumption.

Gaz who notices your echolocation in the water, marvelling at the sharp and precise echo as you maneuver through the water quickly and cleanly.

Its Ghost who obviously, takes time to watch you, you're the kind of lad who needs a team to function. He can respect such a thing, after all a majority of 141 is created of hybrids who work together, and surprisingly well.

Although Ghost's a little surprised at your horrible sense of smell compared to, say, Soap, or even Price and his old nose.

But Ghost appreciates your sense of logic. After all Dolphins are considered smarter, and he puts that to the test at times with quick questions on the battle field of what to do next. If he deems it a good answer he may apply it to the battle tactic.

In the end, the 141 loves their local dolphin.

#cod #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #gn reader #male reader #monster au #alistair writes ☕️

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detachedminxsfics · 1 year

Text

Punishment

Masterlist

Characters: Negan x Saviour F!Reader, Simon, The Saviours

Summary: Negan doesn't like sharing his stuff, so much so that you just earned yourself a place on your knees and a job to do, and he doesn't stop for anything, or anyone.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: NSFW - Oral (m recieving), exhibitionism elements, authority kink, comic accurate foul mouthed negan, negan referring to himself as daddy bc why not, praise, degradation, dirty talk, dom negan

A/N: Haven't managed to get any writing done for a while because my brain just wasn't working with me, but this slutty little idea popped into my brain the other night and I was asked to make this as dirty as possible, so here goes nothing. Also, I have never wrote m recieving oral before, so I apologise in advance.

One of his black leather boots tapped idly against the concrete flooring, his hands interlocked and his chin perched on top as he watched you, elbows propped on the table and his eyes burning holes into you. Lucille was carefully laid in front of him, his gloves however strewn on the table off to the side. It was like he was waiting for something, but he hadn't said a word since he had one of the saviours come to fetch you and muttered for you to take a seat. Better yet, considering Negan wasn't one for long uncomfortable silences, his mouth always running even at the wrongest times, you were in some deep, deep shit.

"Do you know why you're here, sweetheart?" The pet name did little to lessen the cold, warning hint to his tone, a word usually meant with such affection practically dripping with poison.

You opened your mouth to speak but he swiftly unlocked his hands and raised one to interrupt you.

"That shit was rhetorical. You know damn well why your pretty little ass is here, and you are well aware of the little stunt you pulled."

You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the realisation of what had frustrated him so much that he went out of his way to call you into the meeting room. You'd grown quite fond of one of the saviours you were often grouped up with, and having done a few supply runs together by now, you were pretty comfortable. Comfortable enough to place your hand on their arm whilst the two of you cracked jokes and took a smoke break in the courtyard, the walkers entrapped in the metal fence behind you making a racket all the while. And though faint, you immediately sensed it. Eyes on you, watching you, eyes fixed on your every movement. You glanced to identify the observer, and there he was. The man himself. He was at the top of the steps, the door behind him one of the entrances to the second level of the sanctuary, or more famously, his catwalk. He was leaning on the railings, his eyes filling with something dark as he shot you a glare before he practically tore them from you and headed back inside, his usual saunter replaced by a riled pace of heavy footing.

"God Negan, we were just talking."

You wanted to calm him down, truly, but you couldn't help yourself. The sense of ownership and possessiveness over you he exuded was intoxicating, and tempting. You wanted to see what would happen if you teased him, what buttons you could push to make him tick, and how far he would go. After all, you and Negan were amidst a rather dysfunctional state of affairs. You weren't married to him, weren't one of his kind of prized possessions that pranced around in a little black dress and gave him massages if he asked. No, you were a fling. The first time had happened in this very room when he asked you to hang back after one of the usual meetings to ensure operations were running smoothly. What started as mild, innocent flirting turned to your back pressed against the long wooden table taking up the centre of the room, your legs propped on his shoulders as he thrust into you so hard you forgot how to breathe. You weren't ashamed to admit that he had fucked you in a way you'd never even thought possible, thus, you kept coming back for more. And so did he. In the front of one of the loading vans, on his bed, his leather sofa, the coffee table across from it, hell even one of the cells in the hallway. You couldn't get enough of each other, but you weren't exclusive. Although, Negan seemed to think otherwise.

"Is that so? Cause I caught the way you had your hands all over that worthless sack of shit, and it kinda felt a lot like you were doin' it just to piss me off."

"So what if I was?"

Silence fell, your words thickening the air whilst you made the mistake of narrowing your eyes enough to the point where you were shooting him daggers. His jaw clenched for a moment or two before he kissed his teeth, slightly leaning in so that he could close some of the space between you.

"You know that bratty little mouth of yours was always bound to get you in the deepest of shit someday."

And then he smiled. It unnerved you, the sudden grin as he enthused about whatever it was he had in store for you, and then leaned back in his chair, his legs spreading a little further apart as he did.

"Lucky for me, and not so fortunately for you, today is that fine day. So, I'm gonna need you on your knees."

It was humiliating the way you complied so eagerly, sliding off of your chair and sinking to your knees the very second he had finished making his demand, eyes trained on him as you awaited his next order. Your ardour drew a small pleased chuckle from his throat, only encouraging him to continue.

"Crawl to me, baby. Right here." He beckoned in a strange mixture that amounted to a soft demand, but a command nonetheless.

He paired his words with a brief point to the space on the floor below him, under the table. You flattened your palms against the cool concrete floor and began to crawl, not slow enough to make him impatient, but taking enough time to leave him with heavy, bated breath. Your own breath got that much more unsteady when you reached the space between his legs, and his fingers started to fiddle with the buckle of his belt.

"Now you are gonna stuff that pretty little mouth of yours full of cock because you don't seem to understand who exactly it is that you belong to, and who the hell it is that you're damn well talking to. Got it, darlin'?"

God, you loved him like this. His hazel eyes swirling with all the dark, twisted shit he wanted to do to you, tongue momentarily darting out to wet his bottom lip as he looked you over like you were good enough to eat.

"Yes, sir." You replied knowing the total subservience would only turn him on that much more.

The way you addressed him made him screw his eyes shut for a moment, a small grunt erupting from his throat at the mere use of the word. His belt rested loosely on either side of his fly, and he was tugging down the zipper of his jeans and pulling himself free in an instant. You smoothed your hands up his knees and over his thighs ready to lean forward when the feel of his open palm cupping your jaw stopped you.

"Easy now," he cooed as the hand turned to fingers cupping your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and slightly dragging it downward, "c'mon, give daddy some sugar first."

The interjection for the sake of wanting to press his lips against yours made you giggle, your hands still resting against his thighs allowing you to lean up and do as he said, your lips crashing against one another's hungrily. The feel of his tongue slipping into your mouth made you moan, as did the hand that wrapped around your throat as he stole your air in more ways than one. With Negan so occupied with your mouth, the opportunity presented itself, your hand sneaking down to his crotch before closing around his shaft, the feel of your hand pressed over his cock making him groan into your open mouth and faintly tighten the grip on your throat. You started to move your hand up and down his shaft whilst you carefully took his bottom lip between your teeth, nipping it a little before you let it go, and then kissed over where you had bit. When you drew back he was gazing at you with half-lidded eyes, lips parted as he breathed almost as heavily as you were, and a devilish smile soon appearing on his frequented lips.

"Go on then, wrap those pretty lips 'round daddy's cock."

You bit down on your bottom lip and settled back down to the space between his legs, the hard surface below stinging your knees whilst you leaned in and ran your tongue over the swollen tip, beads of precum gathering along your tongue as you did. Then, you slipped him into your mouth, taking him further and further until you were swallowing every damned inch.

"Fuuuck." Negan drawled as he threw his head back slightly, the feel of your throat alone enough to have him reach under the table and slip his fingers into your hair, fingers combing through the strands while you moved your head up and down, your tongue flattened against the underside of his shaft as you practically choked on him.

Then like some cursed nightmare, the door to the meeting room swung open. You immediately rushed to move off of him, but the hand he'd been running through your hair gathered some of your hair in his hand and pushed your head back down. You gave his thigh a few pats to signal that you were no longer alone in case he hadn't noticed, but he simply tightened his grip on your hair and ignored you. His chair was tucked into the table rather tightly thank god, so you couldn't be seen, but you may still be heard. Much to your horror the room filled with the many footsteps of saviours and the sound of chairs scraping across the floor as they took their seats, the many shoes and legs appearing off to the side of you and behind you making you keep your arms tight to you and your legs close together with the fear of being spotted. Negan, however, was over the moon. Negan started speaking to the other saviours whilst you remained frozen underneath the table, trying to find some relief in the fact that you might just be able to remain still until this is all over, until he tugged your hair to make you move on him. Your scalp burned from his grasp, the pain motivating you to bob your head, repeatedly taking him until he was hitting the back of your throat, your eyes watering with the urge to choke. You could hear some of the noises Negan was making above you, small curses muttered under his breath and tiny grunts that sounded like a subtle clearing of the throat when someone was talking. There was a pause between the discussion, however, a pause that you awkwardly filled with an accidental gagging sound as you swallowed him. Negan was quick to disguise this, his leg kicking out underneath the table to serve as a warning, and the sound of him coughing followed.

"Shit, think I'm comin' down with something."

The facade Negan sprung into action with seemed believable enough, not that any of them were stupid enough to question Negan anyways. He didn't have to give you a sign to continue, didn't need to lift a damn finger, you just did. You ran your tongue over the veins lining his shaft and occasionally swirled your tongue over the tip until it got to the point where Negan was practically squirming. He'd adjust in his seat like that would do him any good, and run his hand over his face all the way down to his stubble as he tried to suppress the filthiest and lowest of groans, throaty sounds that he tried to pair with anything to make it appear more natural. To make matters worse a comment someone had made irritated Simon, enough to cause him to lean back in his seat and stretch his legs out, his boots hitting your side before he noticed the obstruction and brought his legs a little further inward. There was no hiding it now. The way one of Negan's arms moved as he ran his fingers through your hair, the way he occasionally screwed his eyes shut and bit his knuckles to stifle his moans, hardly able to form one word as you slid him into your mouth over and over, effortlessly taking him to the hilt. The knowing and amused stare that Simon shot Negan to let him know that he was well aware of the fact that his boss was getting his dick sucked underneath the table, and the slight tilt of Negan's head in response as he dared him to say a word. Simon knew better. From what you could gather when you managed to tune into the conversation over the slight pain running through your jaw, and the feel of your spit having coated him, your drool dribbling down his balls and undoubtedly dampening some of the denim surrounding the base of his cock, was that whatever the basis of the meeting it went without a hitch. With him growing more restless, his breath getting heavier by the minute, he raised his hand and waved it dismissively.

"That's all, you're dismissed."

The sound of a sea of footsteps as they sat up from their chairs and made way for the exit came as a great relief, though you weren't so opposed to the thrill it had provided. Negan carefully tilted your head back to remove himself from your mouth, something you took as what shred of mercy he had for you ever since you'd first walked in, until you realised it was for something else.

"How's it going down there?" Simon quipped, the outright acknowledgement of what you had been doing throughout the entire meeting leaving you flustered.

You knew Simon though, knew that if you clammed up and let him feel that rush of pride from humiliating you that you'd never live it down, so you owned it.

"I'm doing just great." You remarked as you stretched your arm out from one side of the table and gave him a thumbs up.

Negan chuckled and nodded off to the side to signal Simon to leave, and then you were alone again, finally. He scooted his chair back considering it had been tucked into the table so tightly, which now allowed you to crawl out from the table and take him in in all his glory. The beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead, the singular curl of hair defiantly protruding from his hairline having escaped his signature slick style, and the smell of leather carrying through the air from the way he was always roasting in that jacket, though the sweat you made him break into largely contributed. He was ruined, and he wasn't even done yet.

"Goddamn, you are a little slut aren't you," Negan commented as he looked down at the damp spots of spit on his jeans, "look at the mess you made."

You laughed and moved closer towards him until you were resting your head on one of his thighs and looking up at him through your lashes.

"I thought you liked it messy." You teased, the playful retort making Negan bite down on his bottom lip and slightly turn his head to the side as a pleased sound rumbled from his throat.

"Course I do, sweetheart. But in this case," he gently lifted your head from his thigh and cupped the underside of your jaw to bring your head back to his cock until your lips were barely brushing against the tip, "I expect you to swallow."

"Yes, sir."

And you were filling your mouth with him again. It didn't take long to work him back up to the point of squirming, though this time he could be freely vocal.

"God, fuckity fuck. That's it, baby, just like that." He fell into a string of gravelly curses, the occasional compliment and words of approval mixed in.

Negan's groans got deeper, harsher, and his hand found its way to your hair in the midst of the impending release, his head tilting back and exposing his rather prominent adam's apple as he swore like a sailor. He moved his hips as he made a few small thrusts into your mouth before you felt him tense, and everything coming out of that man's mouth whether it be words or sounds, was through gritted teeth. Then, you felt it. Hot wet spurts splashed over your tongue and the back of your mouth, some escaping down your throat. Patiently, you waited for him to be done pouring every last droplet into your mouth and then carefully removed him; your slightly puffed cheeks and the small splotch of white liquid decorating the corner of your lips making him laugh, a low, hoarse laugh as he reached out and ran his hand down one side of your face, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.

"As sexy as you look with a mouthful of my cum, swallow it."

So you did. After clearing your mouth of his release you stuck your tongue out to show him your clean tongue, the sight bringing one of the dirtiest smiles you've ever seen to his lips as he tucked himself back into his pants.

"Good girl."

The praise did little to ease the heat pooling between your legs, but this was a punishment after all. Negan would leave you positively high and dry until you begged him in a few days to screw your brains out of course.

"C'mere." Negan beckoned as he patted his thigh, eyes a little softer than they had been when you first came in.

You moved off of your knees for the first time in at least twenty minutes, the sudden change of scenery for your kneecaps making you hiss from the pain as you unbent your knees and stood to your feet, knees bruised from the large amount of time you spent kneeling against the concrete floor; especially when you shifted weight onto them. Despite the dull ache you placed one hand on Negan's shoulder to support you whilst you swung your leg over him and lowered yourself down onto his lap, a grunt passing from his lips when you fully settled down onto his groin, your legs on either side of him.

"You know," Negan started as he brushed some of your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, "you're the only woman in this whole place that could pull a stunt like what you pulled and get off that easy," he grinned as he spoke, his eyes dragging over you as he placed his hand on the small of your back and drew circles on your skin. Now it was your turn to smile paired with a small giggle and a slight tilt of your head.

"That was getting off easy?" You remarked.

"Course it was."

A beat passed, and then he let out a long, quiet chuckle and gestured towards his chest with a playful sigh.

"C'mon."

You tucked yourself against his chest, the leather of his jacket clinging and creaking against your skin as he held you tight to him. Then you buried your head into the crook of his neck, getting lost in his scent as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, one standing out amongst all others.

"Shit. I love you, baby."

#negan #negan smut #negan smith #negan the walking dead #negan twd #negan x reader #negan x you #the walking dead negan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd negan #negan fanfiction

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monstercampus · 1 month

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foaming at the mouth for efraim. i need to get passed around like a blunt between him n his other insect friends like immediately

prrrrrr!!! i went a lil....nutso <3

(cws: afab + gn pronouns, drug use, free use/taking turns, established relationship, vaguely/mostly consensual, breeding, oviposition, insect mutants, mild photo/video recording, exhibitionism, weird dicks, venom/monster "substances", unintentional knotting, oral, cum drinking)

wc: 1k+

Maybe Ef invited you over to roll a blunt with him but you showed up to find all his close friends :) hangin out in the dorm with him. Z and his other slime roommate are gone for the day so it's just you guys--and it's just a chance to make new friends, y'know? C'mon in, they're nice guys. You're not even sure if they're students at MC but who cares? As Efraim says, they're cool and they "just wanna hang".

There's that one guy with the dark hair that's supposedly a beetle hybrid; all smooth, deep skin with an array of small carapace shells all up and down his back, lining his skin almost like plates that you'd find on armour. Then there's Efraim's touchy friend who sports the deep, red eyes of a wolf spider, each extra set that makes up six running smaller and smaller as they scatter down his cheeks like red rivers. The sideways fangs that gleam when he opens his mouth are a bit off-putting, but he promises not to poison you, sweetie. And then there's the guy that's scattering little sparkly particles wherever he turns--apologizing every time he gets it on the couch--because his wings are covered in the stuff, as is his fluffy collar and antennae and his curly white hair itself. He's an albino moth, but as pretty as he is it doesn't preclude him from leering with just as much interest in you as the rest of them. He's a couple years older, so is the spider--it makes them bolder, more apt to offer you their rolling skills and to make sure every joint you smoke is taken care of before it even reaches your lips. Pretty things like you don't have to roll their own blunts.

It's not until a half hour passes by, when you're all sufficiently smoked up, that you mistake Efraim's lap for the couch and sit your ass on it. The joint he's got half-smoked perches in his mouth so he can wiggle you back in, keep you from getting up when you realize cause he doesn't really want you to get up. You're so comfy and warm. The guys don't mind, they probably didn't even notice.

Even if they didn't, it's a little hard not to notice when Efraim takes you out of the living room into the kitchen and slots himself between your legs. He barely bumps you against the counter but you're in it at once; kissing, belt unbuckling, his rough hands turning you away and bending you forward over the counter cause that's what you wanted. No need to say it, he can smell it. Just have to keep quiet so his stoned friends don't notice while they're playing video games on the tv just a few feet away. He moans into your ear as he slips it in cause you just feel so hot, and he loves the sound that pretty pussy makes when he's making love to her. He's trying not to make it obvious but fuck he can't help filling you up when he's all riled.

"Just gonna have to hold it in, sweets." He chuckles in your ear before kissing it and hiking your bottoms back up for you. One of his friends rolled another joint for you and you're not just gonna reject it, are you? He ushers you back to the little party with a smirk when you take it for a good, long pull. The others aren't dumb, this wouldn't be the first time Ef--or any one of them--messed with their significant other while the rest of them were hanging out. But none of them have ever dated a human before and Efraim seemed certain that they were a sluttier species than they looked. The fact that you don't say anything when his beetle buddy starts rubbing your knee is proof enough.

Ef's eyes zero in on you with intense focus when you start reacting to the touches, not that you notice. You turn your head and guy's dark face is right there, his eyes boring holes into you from centimeters away as he asks for a kiss. His hand slides up to cup you when you dazedly nod your head, his thumb finding your clit through the fabric the moment your lips touch.

It's any wonder, through the smoke and the haze of recreational drug usage, that you manage to pull each other's clothes off with any success. He's barely an inch away from you the entire time and you can barely work your fingers, but you both somehow manage on the cramped couch until he presses you over the arm of it. From here, you've got a full view of the tv screen as your boyfriend and both his other friends duke it out in their fighting game--all while his buddy that you barely know gets down on his stomach and slides his tongue up your inner thighs. He barely reacts when Efraim's cum meets his lips at the crest of your folds. He licks it up with the rest, hollowing out his cheeks to suck like he's drinking from a fountain. It occurs to you that maybe your pleasure isn't even his goal--maybe it's just an afterthought to what he really wants, which is to absolutely devour some human pussy while he's got the once-in-a-lifetime chance.

"Ef," You moan, tugging at the sleeve of your boyfriend on the floor, who is thankfully the closest of his three friends to the couch. His hands on the controller, he turns momentarily to kiss your cheek as you hang over the side of the couch, barely taking his eyes off the screen for a split second.

"Mhm. Love you too, baby. Watch me crush these clowns." He chuckles, only half-listening if that. In the meantime there's a cock begging for your attention, smearing sticky precum over your ass as he shakily guides it to slide down your folds. It's cold. It's got rough, sticky bumps that ooze some kind of mildly venomous substance, because you can feel the pricks of the poison as his arousal seeps into your skin. He can barely hold back the gasp when he glides it in, not more than a couple inches breaching your body suddenly before he sinks into all the rest slowly. Slowly, slowly, slowly--each moment as delightfully agonizing as the last as your blood mixes with his venom and creates a popping sensation in your veins that feels like you've been injected with sparkler candies.

Each thrust is deep, his powerful hips a violent set of pistons that throw you forwards against the couch every time. But more than that, his touch itself is penetrating; the beetle yanks your arms back and uses the force to press into you harder, his dick hardening and softening in erratic rhythm as if he's trying to mold himself to squeeze into your tightest cracks. The weed has him aggressive and somewhat feral and the others will tell you that themselves when this is all over--not before he can get you pinned and juiced up with venom to breed you first, though. He at least wanted one round with Efraim's pretty human and he's got it, he's claimed you rightfully when he drags you completely underneath him and dwarfs you under his arms, pumping your pussy with harsh thrusts to finally, eventually, come spilling that one, huge glob of half-beetle half-man cum that he forces down hard to fit into your womb. Even if you scratched and wriggled to get away, he'd press you down with a hand in your hair anyways to make sure it enters you. Only once he feels it disappear and you let out a hitch of gasping breath does he let up, though he reaches around to feel for that swollen lump in your belly before he pulls that sticky mess of his cock out. The strings of sweat, slick, and cum link you together as he leaves a devastating trail behind, undoubtedly staining Efraim's couch in the process.

And with his pants tugged back on he drops down and takes the place of the loser in the rest of their group match, the guys squabbling as guys do amongst themselves as they prep for the next round, passing another blunt between them as they poise their controllers and pick their characters.

Yet you sit back feeling almost pregnant, the mix of Efraim's residual cum plus the odd sphere of semen that was just forced through your cervix leaving you slightly swollen and mostly bloated. The effects of his venom are causing you to leak with arousal, the thin fluid nearly dripping out of you like a faucet so that you can't even mind that you're making an even bigger mess on Efraim's shared couch. It doesn't even matter, because the spider is up next and you have a feeling he lost on purpose, based on that fanged smirk he has on his many-eyed face.

At the very least he has the courtesy to wrap his cock--in his own webbing rather than a condom, but you can't exactly complain. It's a strange sensation to have in your mouth, however, as he takes one giant leg up on the sofa and looms over you to gently feed his string-covered cock past your glossy lips. The aid of his spidery legs in positioning him nearly has him floating over you, lazily slapping his hips against your face as he starts beating your throat in a mindless yet needy rhythm.

"So pretty," He purrs, his inner fangs clacking as he watches your throat bulge with the swell of his bulbous tip. The curved shaft makes it easier to plumb the depths of your mouth in search of a ripe spot to dump his load. "Tell your boyfriend you want us over more." His cackling peppers the sounds of his thick balls smacking your chin and sticking with what remains of his webbing that he shot out errantly. That plap, plap, plap echoes endlessly, degradingly in your ears, yet doesn't move the needle for his friends even when they cast occasional glances over to your spot on the couch. Efraim looks and readjusts his crotch, no doubt trying to mull the erection growing in order to give all his friends a much-needed turn with you. How generous.

"You just love bug cock, huh?" The wolf spider laughs as he spins a web between his fingers over your head. "I bet I'd have a harem of human sex dolls if everyone was as honest as you. Such a good toy." Suddenly the web twists into the form of a rope, and you watch in panic as he loops it around your neck and proceeds to tug--but only at the moment of his orgasm, when the bulge in your throat swells into...a second bulge. It hits you as the air completely leaves your lungs, your neck completely blocked: he wasn't wrapping his dick for protection, he did so in order to catch his cum like a balloon and plop inside you like he would a spider mate. He fixes the web-rope lower into the divot between both bulges, and with minute adjustments there's a sudden twing and the webbing snaps off the tip, fully encasing his bulb of cum to slide down the back of your throat and enter you fully to do...gods know what. He takes the rope away and slides out in one smooth motion, before he tilts your head up with a clawed hand and encourages you to breathe.

"Very good." His soothing tone lasts only a moment before those fangs make a reappearance in a smirk. "You'll be a good incubato-"

"Move it! My turn." The moth appears suddenly and jostles the spider aside, who swings back before hauling himself up to the corner of the ceiling with a grumble. That big smile is both alarming and affirming all at once--he seems kinder and sweeter than you expected, or maybe it's just the weed and the smell of sex in the room that's making him excitable. He tugs his sweatpants down to show off a long, protruding ovipositor, and with some eager repositioning to your side he manages to wriggle it in...just the wrong hole, at first. With your squeak at the unexpected backdoor intrusion, he yelps softly and readjusts towards your clit, which he bumps and rubs affectionately as if his ovipositor is sharing tender kisses with it. You worry a bit that he might try and shove it up there next, but the third time's the charm and as the other guys settle in on the opposite couch and switch the game for a movie, your cunt gushes a little at the smooth insertion of something so long and thin and warm.

"Aaahh.." Your sigh of relief is breathtaking to the group of faded-out insect men, each of whom have next to no interest in what's playing on the screen and instead are just watching you get fucked. Slowly.

"So cuuute....you're so, so cuuuute.." He moans with a distinct rumbling in his throat, which makes the collar of his neck fluff ruffle and bristle in mesmerizing waves. His sparkly dusts flutters over you in a misty shower of tiny particles, each one clinging to your skin and hair and eyelashes. Efraim's beetle friend sits on the floor twiddling his thumbs while he watches intently, in the meantime the wolf spider descends down to the couch to perch next to your boyfriend and chat idly while they enjoy the splendid view.

It takes only a minute or two of that sweet treatment for you to realize why this one hangs out with the others. Once he's pressed his ovipositor deep enough to pinch as it enters your womb, a second appendage beneath the egg depositor starts wriggling beneath his fuzz. It comes bursting out in a shower of powder as if excited--it's a stout, fat tentacle-looking limb, which drips with syrupy slime and struggles for contact until he leans forward enough to grant it access. When he does, you can no longer deal with mild squirming; your body thrashes and hips hump mindlessly as his cock stretches you out, flailing and twisting inside you as it lavishes in the attention your warm cunt gives it. That's when he really starts thrusting, and that same translucent, pinkish syrup drips off his tongue as he drools in complete ecstasy, black-sclera eyes rolling back in his head as he drops all that pristine composure. Lost in bliss, he pins your knees back with his fuzzy hands and folds you into a deep, merciless mating press.

It's no exaggeration to say that the experience is heavenly. Your boyfriend sits chatting with his friends about games and movies and weed, mere feet away, and yet he can still snap a photo of you and some videos while he tells you how sweet you are and how cute you look. How nice you are to let him introduce you to his friends and let them get to know a human for the first time. For letting them go crazy on you like his moth friend is doing right now, and how his other two friends are gearing up for again as they smell your pheromones and get excited at the human going into heat.

Then, while the moth is pounding you in that brutal breeding position, his wings flutter suddenly and he tries to pull back in a panic. He doesn't move. He's stuck--his ovipositor having swollen and latched inside your womb, the egg forming a knot that won't let him pull out of your cervix. The tentacle finally releases with a spray of syrupy cum all over your folds, and retracts slowly back into his body. But despite still being stuck, his egg-laying appendage is thin, and bendable...so the other guys just decide to sort of keep fucking you around it. He has to lean out of the way so the others can make space, but when they make you cum good enough you'll loosen up and let him go, they're sure.

Yeah, they just have to pump you full of more eggs, more cum, more venom, and it'll all work out. Totally. And they can just make sure to give you more weed to ease the process, maybe a little alcohol if you're in the mood to drink. It'll all make it sooooo easy, promise. You won't even feel the swell of your stomach until you look pregnant, or the ache in your throat from choking on all that mutant cock, or even the headache that comes from smoking too much because you'll just be in complete, total bliss. So good. So sweet. Such a nice, soft, breedable toy for all your boyfriend's friends ♡!

#efraim (mc)#centipede stoner #centipede stoner x reader #monster x reader #insect monster #monster boyfriend #spicy writing #monster campus #ellie writes

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bonniebird · 10 months

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Evan x Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon

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Request: Anonymous asked: Evan Buckley x fem reader 9-1-1. They were dating but break up and then during a rescue he sees her and they find out she is pregnant but hadn't told buck.

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“All I’m saying is that you have to know.” Buck said as he hopped down out of the firetruck. Hen rolled her eyes as she headed towards the other paramedic to offer her help.

“You know it’s a genuine thing. People being pregnant and not knowing. Maddie said she saw a few back when she was a nurse.” Chimney chimed in. Buck frowned and shrugged. Hen and Chimney shared a look of amusement.

“Hey.” Athena said to Bobby as they trailed after him.

“Am I glad to get out of that truck.” Bobby muttered with amusement. She chuckled and glanced back at the 118.

“Still talking about that last call?” She asked and he nodded. She sighed and gestured to the building. “Well, you might get another one like it. The building collapsed on the south side, there was gas work going on in the building next door. It’s a prenatal clinic. Some people have managed to get themselves out but there are about ten people still inside, two, maybe three upstairs but they aren’t sure.”

“Ok.” Bobby said firmly and stopped walking in step with her so the team could gather around him. They separated as Bobby directed them in different directions. Eddie led the way inside while Buck followed behind. Part of the building had been on fire. Buck could still feel the heat as the one fifteen put out the last of the fire. He turned to Eddie who gestured at the first room, they were quick to clear it and finding no survivors in need of rescuing they hurried to the next room. Hen and Chimney passed them when someone called for a paramedic over the radio. Buck followed after them and stopped as he saw who Hen was stooped over.

“(Y/N)?” Buck said quietly. Hen checked your pulse while Chimney cleared the small amount of debris that was bear you. He called for a board as Hen rolled you over. There was a response from Eddie over the radio as the three of them gawked at you.

“What were you saying about not knowing about pregnancies?” Hen said slowly as she continued to check you out. Chim glanced at Buck as he took the board from Eddie and helped her move you onto it.

“Is that… (Y/N)?” Eddie asked as Hen and Chim hurried you out to the ambulance.

“Urm… uh yeah. It is… We haven’t seen each other since we broke up.” Buck said quietly. Eddie glanced at Buck and nodded, pointing out there was still one more room that needed to be cleared. Buck was silent as they cleared the last room and headed outside Hen was loading you into the ambulance and you seemed to be awake.

“Be advised we have a woman with mild smoke inhalation, testing on the low end for CO poisoning, she has a headache but no other symptoms at present.” Bobby said into his radio. Chim jumped out of the back of the ambulance and motioned for Buck to get in.

“I don’t know…” Buck said.

“Buck. You’re going to want to go.” Athena said firmly. She glanced at Bobby who was now directing other ambulances. “I’ll see if Bobby can give you the last few hours of your shift off.”

Buck still hesitated but walked closer to the ambulance with Eddie who gave him a sympathetic look.

“She looks about thirty weeks Buck… you broke up almost fourteen weeks ago.” Eddie said slowly. Buck frowned at Eddie then at Bobby who gave him a slight nod. Buck hurried towards the ambulance and got in the back. You and Hen were talking quietly. The doors slammed shut as Buck sat down and the ambulance pulled away.

“So.” Hen said awkwardly. You closed your eyes for most of the ride to the hospital, feeling Hen poke and prod. You opened them again when you felt the gurney being pulled out of the ambulance and Hen said that Buck should go with you. Suddenly you were surrounded by people doing tests and asking you questions. You were still disorientated. One minute you had been visiting an estate agent the next the building was on fire and filled with smoke. You dozed off after a while but woke to find Buck sitting in the seat next to you and Hen outside talking to someone just out of sight. He was staring at the floor, his leg bouncing up and down and he sighed every now and then.

Sitting up a little you shafted your weight in the bed. Buck looked up. “You ok?” He asked warily. You sighed and nodded.

“I think so. I feel better.” You muttered. Hen had stopped just outside the door and waited. When nothing else was said she sighed and entered the room.

“Neither of you two are going to talk about it?” She asked. Buck glanced at her while you looked down at your hands and fiddled with them. “Well all right then.” She muttered. A nurse allowed you to be discharged and Hen drove you home. The car ride was silent and she didn’t bring up the pregnancy again. She helped you settle, cleaned up a little and promised that Karen would be around to check in the next day as she was off with Denny for the day and Hen had a long shift and reluctantly agreed that she wouldn’t tell Buck your new address until you were ready to talk to him.

****************************

Bobby had been warned by Chim and Eddie that Buck was in a mood. He’d had a meeting and hadn’t been able to join them on their first call of the shift but Chim had taken the time to call him and let him know that Buck might need someone to talk things through. He wasn’t willing to talk about it with anyone else.

“Buck!” Bobby said as he climbed the steps to the kitchen. Buck had been leaning against a counter, staring at the floor and almost jumped when Bobby called out to him.

“Hey, Bobby.” Buck said with a sigh and tone that told Bobby he was going to hear a lot of complaining.

“Still haven’t spoken to (Y/N)?” He asked. He decided it would be best to wade right in. Buck sighed, rubbing his hands together as he pushed off the kitchen counter he’d been leaning on and walked over.

“I urm. No. I-I tried to reach out but she has a new number and a new apartment.” Buck admitted. Bobby nodded slowly. Buck started helping him prep the vegetables that he had gotten out of the fridge as Buck talked.

“Maybe you could talk to Hen. I know she said she gave (Y/N) her number in case she needs some help. I know the two of you broke up but I’m sure she’d be happy for some support.” Bobby suggested. Buck made a noise that almost had Bobby rolling his eyes. “I thought it ended amicably.”

“We did. After some arguing. It’s just. If she wanted to see me Bobby she would have reached out.” Buck muttered and jabbed at a tomato with a small knife. Bobby took it from him and glanced at Chimney who was hurrying up the stairs laughing with Ravi hurrying after him. Seeing Bobby looking his way and catching a slight nod Chimney hurried over.

“So… what’re we talking about.” He said and glanced at the stovetop and the steaming pan that Bobby hurried to check on, motioning Ravi over.

“(Y/N).” Buck answered.

“Ah. You know. Pregnancy hormones make someone do crazy things. You know I was so nervous that…” He trailed off when Buck sighed and started to walk off. He’d already had Maddie and Chimney coming up with all sorts of excuses when they came over to check on him for the last few days. He was tired of it. “Look, Buck. The two of you… were idiots.”

“What?” Buck said as he turned back and frowned at Chimney. Hen and Eddie had been coming up the stairs and glanced at each other, neither too worried but eager to hear the next chapter in Buck’s drama. There hadn’t been much else happening in the firehouse the past week which was unusual.

“You fell in love too fast. Then just when the two of you start to get to know each other and it got real you bolted and don’t give me that career crap. We all know you, Buck. You would have found a way to follow her around the world if you wanted to. You got scared.” Chimney scolded. Bobby left Ravi watching the stove and walked over, seeing Buck’s face twisted with anger and redden with embarrassment.

“Well hold on now. Buck’s life is here and the two of them really tried to find a way to make it work. They looked into commutes, moving, and transferring. Maddie had just come back and (Y/N) had a promotion that would have, in all honesty, been insane to turn down. I think it took real maturity to realise that they needed to let each other go even if they still loved each other.” Hen defended. Buck seemed to zone out, listening to everyone arguing.

“Of course, you’re the romantic.” Chimney said and chuckled as Hen defended herself. There was a loud clearing of a throat and everyone turned to see Athena. She had clearly just changed out of her uniform and looked unimpressed.

“Maybe instead of talking to everyone here you should go and talk to (Y/N)?” Athena offered as advice. Buck nodded but shrugged.

“I don’t know where she is.” Buck muttered. Athena sighed as if she was fed up and gestured out to the doors.

“She’s outside. Pacing around as if she isn’t about to have her child right on the doorstep. Go.” She motioned for Buck to hurry outside. He jogged down the steps and rushed out to the front of the firehouse. Looking around he couldn’t see anyone. He could hear Bobby and Athena talking as they approached. They both looked empathetic when he came towards them with a defeated look.

“Why don’t you head out.” Bobby offered. Buck looked a little distraught so he quickly added. “We’ve been on a double shift, there’s only twenty-five minutes left and we were going to eat. If no last-minute calls came in. Go and find her.” Bobby insisted. He promised Buck that if anyone asked anything about him not finishing the shift he’d deal with it. Buck changed, shoved his bag into his Jeep and hurtled out of the employee parking lot. It occurred to him as he sat in traffic that he didn’t actually know where to go. Staring up at the red light he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Athena had said you’d been outside. He’d drive the block and then head over to Maddie’s if he couldn’t find you. The light went green and he slowly circled the block. As he reached the end of his circle he spotted you stopped at a food truck. He pulled over and hurried towards you as you stepped away from the truck and walked in the opposite direction.

“(Y/N)?” He called. He caught up with you as you were taking a bite of your food and found himself smiling as your eyes went wide and you slowly chewed. “Sorry. Athena said you were looking for me and then you…” He trailed off as you finished your mouthful.

“I was. But then I got hungry.” You mumbled. Buck chuckled and gestured to his car.

“You know if you wanted to. We could go get some food somewhere?” He offered. You nodded and ate on the way to the car, tossing the wrapper into a bin you passed. Getting in the car you sank into the seat and stared ahead. There was an awkward silence as Buck drove.

“So urm. Where did you want to go?” Buck asked. You thought about it and then listed several kinds of food you’d been craving. When he stopped at a red light Buck stared at you for a while before nodding slowly. He turned towards a small supermarket. “I figure we can get everything here.”

The two of you went round the supermarket. The two of you chatted about nothing important and avoided talking about what you needed to. Until May and Maddie came around the corner of an aisle. May was happy to see you and explained that Maddie was helping her find ingredients for a surprise meal for Bobby and her mum. Maddie took Buck to one side and talked to him quickly and quietly. She smiled tightly in your direction. When May was ready to continue shopping they left while Buck took your over to the cafe section after insisting on paying for everything.

“So urm…

"So… urm. You. You're pregnant?" Buck said. You stopped eating for a moment and nodded.

"Yes." You answered just as awkwardly as Buck had asked his very obvious question.

"Right." Buck muttered. The two of you sat in silence for a while before you cleared your throat.

"I tried to call. I should have… gone by the firehouse sooner." You said quietly.

"You know what we had this sunami and this crazy earthquake. I had to replace my phone because of that so I had a new number. You wouldn't have gotten through to me." Buck offered up quickly. You nodded and smiled awkwardly, picking at a loaf of soft tiger bread. There was an awkward silence that fell over the two of you before Buck frowned.

"So you were going to tell me?" He pressed. You looked guilty for a moment.

"Not at first." You admitted and looked away from him, down at the table, balling the bread in your hands into little tiny balls. "After the first few months, I tried to call. Then I moved back here two months ago and… I saw you. You were in the fire truck."

"You've been back for two months?" Buck asked. His voice cracked with pain as he blinked several times and looked over at the doors of the supermarket as of he wanted very much to bolt from the building.

"My job fell through." You said quietly and he nodded.

"Hen said something about that." He said and cleared his throat trying to move the lump that formed as he thought about everything thing.

"So…" you said. Unsure what else to say.

"Do you need a ride home?" Buck asked. He had wanted to ask a million questions. How was the baby, where were you living, did you need anything, boy or girl? But now he was in the moment he wanted it to end. He'd thought it would be like talking with you before breaking up. But it was just awkward and painful. He drove you home and you gave him your number. You declined his offer to help carry the bags inside and he waited until you were safely inside.

He didn't drive home. He went to Maddie's. She found him sobbing on her sofa. So she lay down on it with him, thankful that she had let Chimney talk her into the bigger sofa she thought was a bit much. Chimney didn't say anything when he got home. Just gestured to Maddie if she needed anything and went to check on Jee-Yun who Maddie had put down for a nap after picking her up from Karen.

"I don't know what I thought would happen?" Buck said tearfully when he was finally done sobbing.

"It's ok Buck. Things will work out." Maddie said soothingly.

"How do you know that?" Buck asked defeatedly. Maddie shrugged and let Buck cry himself to sleep before getting up. Chimney was quietly making a hot drink for them both.

"Someone needs to get those to talk everything out." Chimney said quietly, handing one drink to Maddie as he led the way to their bedroom.

"It has to be awkward. They didn't exactly break up because they fell out of love." She muttered. With a sigh, the two of them resigned themselves to keeping an eye on Buck until he bounced back and figured out a way to let you know how he was feeling. They just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

Buck tag list:

@gillybear17 @ravennoore14 @the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @gatefleet @kaitieskidmore1 @deanwinchestersgirl87

#bonniebird #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

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malice of a pretty face | scaramouche (wanderer)

✮ tags ; adapted from genshin canon but not genshin canon, gn!reader, forced marriage but they ally together, role reversal, scaramouche is called bride mostly jokingly, physically smaller than reader, reader has a female concubine in their bed and kisses them / had sex w them, reader is a tyrant ruler type, age gap (scara is 20 ish and reader is like 28), opium usage, raiden shogun is scara's mother who sold him out, political affairs, handjobs + making out 18+

✮ wc ; 3.4k

✮ a/n ; what if i want to be the tyrant emperor for a change huh. what then. also scaramouche is called bride but gender and stuff is whatever in this universe.

some background, this is not genshin techincally. its like adapted to be a royalty au. reader is a recent ruler of their homeland. scaramouche is a raidens son. he didn't get a lot of choice in coming but he has no political power in his homeland

(this is a rewrite of a concept i posted a while ago but i cant find the ask where someone tells me to expand so hope this finds u anon

✮ synopsis ; your "bride" hails from inazuma and comes to you dressed in white, with eyes full of lightning.

A knock on your door snaps you out of your pointless thinking. Your close companion and Royal Advisor clears his throat before addressing you.

“Your bride has been prepared for you,”

“Come in.”

The brown door creaks as it opens, the gold embellishments on either side catching light. The hallway behind is empy but bright. Your advisor stands behind your esteemed guest with a look of mild exasperation. Subtle as it may be, it makes the corner of your lip quirk in amusement. At the door is your betrothed.

Your bride comes to you wrapped in white.

“I’ll leave you too it,” Says your advisor, code for please get along that has you nodding your head. You hum quietly, waving him away. He sighs as he shuts the door, leaving your guest standing at the door awkwardly.

As the rumors have said so many times over, the Raiden Shoguns only heir is strikingly beautiful. Pale thing he is, white as a porcelain doll and nearly half your size. Even in the lowlights of your bedroom, the blurriness of candlelight, you can see the sharpness of his eyes. A signature purple, the color of royalty and trademark of the Inazuman dynasty and bloodline.

For a peace offering, he reeks of defiance. Just standing there with his arms crossed, fists clenched and jaw tight. He looks like he wants to burn the entire palace to the ground where he stands. You’re sure if you picked him apart enough he’d tell you just that. Intel tells you he’s easy to provoke, and for a Prince of his nation - he’s quite the fighter too.

You aren’t sure how much he knows of this by now. Or if he knows that you’ve learned all sorts of things about him.

Most of all, he’s intriguing. Beautiful but prickly and poisonous. You’re captivated by how much he seethes. You tilt your head as your leg up, your back against the wall. You glance briefly at the concubine asleep in your bed, back exposed. Your robe is half-fallen over your shoulder, the bandaging on your chest and shoulder visible.

You take a long inhale of the pipe resting on your bed, lungs filling with opium before you push it. Another cloud of smoke fills the room, relief in your back as you exhale. You tilt your head at him.

“Will you stand there the whole time?” You ask placidly. It angers him even more for a reason you’re unable to discern.

“Why would I get near a belligerent tyrant like you?”

You chuckle. Despite himself, there’s a tinge of anxiety to his protesting. He’s young and on guard. You’re sure your reputation with the Royal Harem has served you no favors, so he must think you’re going to pounce on him.

You shake your head.

“I like to sedate my prey before I eat it. I won’t lay a hand on you.”

Surprised by your deduction, a flush draws on his features. You smile wispily, before another thought crosses your mind. His name dawns on you, Scaramouche you think it was.

“Ah, or is it this that’s troubling you?” You say, gesture vaguely to the naked person in your bed laying comfortably “Should I send her away before we speak?”

Your conversation stirs her. Scaramouche stares on. Instead you glance at the woman before you as she wakes, turning to her side. Barren skin save for jewelry, she runs her hands through her hair as she yawns.

“Oh, Your Highness. Already another round? I hardly got any rest.” She pouts. Her behavior is amusing to you always.

“Not today. My spouse has come to visit, so I’m sending you back to your chambers.” You say smoothly. She pouts, sitting up. The sheets that covered her so thinly have fallen, revealing the rest of her. A set of gold anklets that match with gold necklaces and gold bracelet. She sits up on her knees and wraps her around your neck.

“How cruel,” She whines, rubbing herself against you “How could you abandon when you favor me so much, hm?”

“You’re quite clever aren’t you? Trying to seduce me in front of my lover, and all?”

She pulls back to giggle.

“So you’ve seen through me. I don’t care for being sent away, you know?”

“What would you like as reconciliation?” You say.

“A kiss goodbye,” She replies easily. This time you look to Scaramouche. His face is burning red.

“Is it alright with you?”

He scoffs “As if it matters what I think.”

“I’ve asked you haven’t I?”

“Do as you please.”

You laugh. He says as much but he can't help but stare. He looks embarrassed, albeit you can’t imagine which thing is troubling him so much. It’s entertaining.

You kiss her goodbye as she’s asked, though you know what type of kiss she’s asking for. A deep kiss, the kind where you have to hold her by the nape of her neck. Salacious in nature, where she squirms and holds the front of your robe. You pull away with a laugh, rubbing her lower lip.

“Send my regards to everyone. It might be some time before I visit again.”

“How heartbreaking. I’ll do as you wish, Your Highness.” She stands to her feet, pulling herself out of bed and putting on the clothes left on the floor with a sigh. Her feet pad against the marble floor as she walks away.

She stops to look at Scaramouche before leaving, bowing her head in respect before standing back. She whispers something to him (that turns his face into a blushing mess once more) before patting him on the shoulder gently.

“I’m off,” She says, waving a hand but not looking back. The door clicks back shut a second time, leaving the two of you alone in silence. You take another drag from your pipe.

“Come. Sit.”

He does as you ask this time, stomping with a characteristic frustration that you stop to laugh at internally. He sits on the corner of your mattress, legs crossed. You get to see him up close this time. What delicate features he has, he couldn’t be any older than 21. The white silks he’s dressed in are fine. A thin, lace collar goes up to his throat. A skirt with high slits about the legs and lacy socks to cover the legs. He’s wearing something over it too, draped over his shoulders. You can see the cut-out of his chest. You only glance. Any longer than this and you’re sure he’ll protest.

“What troubles you, my bride?”

He grits his teeth.

“I’m no bride.”

“I know,” You say, without any hesitation “You’re the only filial son of the Great Raiden Shogun. I may be a tyrant, but I am no fool.”

This information surprises him. He wears his emotions on his face, as expected. He’s not gotten so far without being clever. The bounty on his head is insurmountable. There’s a tension in the room, an unspoken heaviness in the air. Quite a fragile thing he is.

“Then this, this marriage - it’s fraudulent isn’t it?” He says, angry. You hum.

“I knew before we wedded. Under the law of Tevyat and in the eyes of the Nation, you are my betrothed.”

He’s catching up to all that you know. You know it all. The rumors of the cold and unyielding Raiden Shogun. The desolate lands of Inazuma, the loss of childhood and the change in the young man. Rumors of the angry Crown Prince and his bleeding heart. How he was sacrificed for power to your hands, for the eternal vision of Inazuma.

Of course you know.

“Then why…if you know about me, then why?”

“The Raiden Shogun offered you to me to get in my good graces. There’s political fairs involved but the simply reason is because I wanted to. You’re easy on the eyes.”

He ignores your flirtatious comment as you expect.

“What are the political affairs?”

“Inazuma wishes to strengthen it’s naval army and a small nation requires resources. Since I’ve only just gained power after killing the Emperor, my position for the throne is destabilized and marriage was the best option to stabilize it again,” You explain, already bored just hearing yourself.

“We don’t gain anything from joining hands with Inazuma as it stands. And plenty of people have vouched desperately for my marriage. The simple answer is because an offer like the only child of the Raiden Shogun, who’s beauty is world-renowned is quite the tempting offer.”

He looks down, away from you and you resist your own laughter.

“I despise you,”

“I know that too. That pretty face of yours doesn’t leave much for imagination. What will you do my dear? Will you run? Cry? Scheme into driving a knife in my heart? Lure me into security and disappear?”

“...You’re personality is quite twisted.”

“I’m curious about the faces you make, that’s all. What will you do, how will you react, how you think. But I do not intend to make you miserable. There’s much to discuss,”

“....Why are you posing as if you’re kind?”

“A caged animal will lash out for it’s freedom,” You say, titting your head to one side “But a looked after one will never bite the hand that feeds.”

“Wouldn’t you be the one closer to an animal with your tendencies?”

“A beast, I hear so often. My point is the same. If I intend to make you even a begrudging ally, I’m not interested in angering you. Nor forcing myself upon you for that matter,” You add the last part intentionally.

“Disgusting,” He says, all while staring at the curve of your neck and your body “Really,”

“I do not intend to force you, but if you’re so against the idea - I think it’d only be fair I’m allowed to see my concubines. It’s your choice.”

He frowns at your explanation. You grin.

“Are you so troubled by it? Would you prefer I only long for you?”

“D-don’t word it like that.” He says, a shake in his voice. You hum, taking a long drag from your pipe.

“Maybe you’re the sentimental type? A lover from the homeland? Or perhaps, you’re just too inexperienced to be confident?”

You can see the exciting look on his face. That type of shame that very few nobles wear. Most of them degenerates, or liars. Prim and properly deceitful. You look at Scaramouche’s honest face and feel something between your legs. How much he wishes to admonish you, or even push you away but is all too curious to refuse. An expression like that is a jewel, a diamond waiting for polish.

You have to chip around it, bit by bit. Too much force and you’ll scratch his beautiful surface, you only pull at him gently. Tease him so tenderly he can’t scurry off.

“Shut up. You know nothing about me,”

“If you’re unsure, you can always try. I can teach you much easier than most,” You say. You wonder if he’ll call your bluff. But he doesn’t. He sits and folds his hands in your lap. He reminds you a bit of those Glaze Lily’s all the way from Liyue. Cold and blue and eye-catching.

Scaramouche does not call your bluff. He shifts to cover his legs and something is overwhelmed inside you. You hold your breath a little. So skittish.

“There’s nowhere for me to return to,” He says first, surprising you, a bitterness in his tone that pleases you “It’s not like I want to stay here or be your ally. But returning to a place that has discarded me is even more disgusting.”

“So we’re allies for now. Understood,” You say, glancing at him “Then, are you giving me permission to sleep with you?”

His eyes widen, face reddening to an impossible degree. A belly laugh leaves you. What a simple person in the end.

“You―W-we have to consummate the marriage, don’t we? A-and if I stay here, I’ll have power. Leaving it open means it’ll be nullified and―”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. If you feel too embarrassed about your desires, you may spread rumors about simply quelling my appetite,” You say with a mild expression, intending it with sincerity “It’d be a shame to do nothing when you’ve dressed up so nicely for your arrival. Come closer,”

Your comment must bother him, but he resigns himself. He does as he’s asked, slowly getting on his knees and crawling towards you. His eyes are erratic, skin flush. He’s simply sitting across from you and he can’t look at you directly. You’re a little astonished by the extent of his innocence, especially with all the violent rumors around him. You blow out the flame of your pipe, and lean to one side away from you.

Then you stretch your legs out, placing your hands gently on his waist so he doesn’t startle. You manuever so he’s stradling you, his knees on either side of your thigh. Looking at him closely is exciting. There’s makeup on his face. Crushed pink pigment smeared on his lip and smoothed with oil and eyes lined with something dark. You reach your hand up to cup his face, and he manages not to flinch.

Though you can hear his heart beat. It’s tremendously loud. Nervous.

“Relax, I won’t eat you, for now. I’ll take take responsibility. Have you kissed anyone?”

“S-so what if I haven’t?”

“We’ll start there. Close your eyes and follow me.”

He listens obediently again, closing his eyes. His hands are clenched over his knee. You grab them and let them rest over your shoulders before sneaking your hand to the side of his face. You lean in to kiss him gently, his skin soft. He smells like lavender and oats, the hairs on his nape brushing against your fingers delicately. His lips are soft as you start slowly, opening your mouth just a little. He learns quickly, following your actions without trying to take lead.

You pull away and do it again. Again and again and again until you’re used to the pace. You use your free hand to squeeze at his delicate waist, relishing in how easily he succumbs to the feelings. He lets out something like a moan that embarasses him near immediately as he pulls away. He’s clumsy but it’s cute, and makes you want to kiss him more.

He turns his head, using his wrist to cover his mouth which you grab swiftly. You grab his chin too, rubbing your thumb on his lip.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” You say, a little more eager than last. He makes a face but listens. You mimic him before kissing him one more time. The feeling of your tongue must surprise him. Either way, his body responds so beautiful. He nearly melts in your arms as you wrap them around his waist, fingers dancing to any bare skin you can. He makes a pretty, pitchy sound for you but doesn’t pull away this time.

When you stop kissing him, his face looks hazy. Frustrated, he almost goes to chase your mouth but stops himself. You smirk just barely, before busying your mouth on his chin. Open kisses trace his jaw as you lean into his pulse.

It beats under your teeth, his heart does, so red and so loud. For a minute you really do want to eat him alive, devour him in one swallow. But you restrain yourself from such desires, instead putting little marks on his body for tommorrow. So everyone knows not to say anything about his status. He can resent you later but for now, it’s a safety precaution.

He makes sounds like a melody, a string insturment in the warm sun. There’s something divinely beautiful about him. His body reacts to your simple touches, a shiver running up his spine as you kiss his neck and grope him lightly. It excites you, those innocent reactions. Makes something stir in your gut and grow hot between your legs.

You feel something shift underneath you. When you look, there’s something hard poking from his clothes. It makes a tent in the delicate fabric where he stands. You pull away just to stare at it, amused by how hard he is.

“Stop looking at it or I’ll gouge your eyes out,”

“It’s cute,” You say with conviction, wrapping your hands around the base with the fabric and squeezing the base “I should get to look,”

“W-what are you?”

“I’ll bet a stuck-up prince type like you didn’t get much education. There are more ways than one to feel pleasure than sticking it in. I’ll show you, so don’t run away,”

He doesn’t have the words to protest. He doesn’t refuse you, just watches through his hands. You rub him so slightly through the thin material. Can see it clear with your eyes adjusted. It fits easily in your palm, tip harsh pink and curved. You place your thumb over the tip, smearing the pre-cum leaking onto the fabric. He’s so sticky, so hard and hot in your palms.

“It’d be better if I touched you directly, but you’re cute like this. So lewd,”

He has nothing to say. A whine or protest gets cut short with a groan of pleasure. You laugh a little. You search the bed for a bottle of oil with your free hand. When you find it, you pull away and drip it into your hands.

“Hold this up for me.” You say softly. He hesitates but does, pulling the skirt up until his cock is visible. You rub the oil into your hands, warming it before wrapping around the shaft. The skin-to-skin proves to be a lot for him, his body already trembling though you’ve hardly touched him. He’s much heavier like this, His cock is smooth and he’s near hairless, You can see so much of him, the plane of his stomach and the musculature of his thighs.

He’s got lithe muscle, nothing too hard or too defined but there all the time. He’s got a dip in one of his hips and a mole that you’ll kiss some other time, just above where you’re touching. You wonder if there’s more. Once you have your way with him you’ll count.

You stroke him slowly and easily. Any more than this might be cruel since this much action seems to be too much. You watchi his expression as you build to a steady pace, paying special attention to the head. His expression is debauched. Inexperienced as you expected, but perhaps even more than that - sensitive. He’s throbbing against the curves of your roughened skin, gasping and holding hard onto your shoulder as he tries to keep himself tight in one place. You lean your head forward, kissing just under his pec.

“This is as far as I’ll go today. Cum for your beloved, hm? Show me your face?”

That seems to do it for him. The use of lover in such a context pushes him over the edge and it only takes two more strokes to spill into your fingers. Thick, hot ropes of cum makes a mess of your fingers as he ruts his cock into your palms chasing his high.

When he’s finished, he nearly collapses into your lap. It sedates all of his previous angers, something you note in the back of your mind.

You bring your hand up your mouth, tasting it. He gasps, scandalized.

“That’s dirty!”

“I’ve done worse. Besides it wasn’t bad. Hand me that,” You gesture. He tosses you the rag to wipe your hand with and you toss it in the basket at the end of your bed. Before he can push you away, you pull him into your arms and laydown.

“What are you doing?” He says, indignant.

“Holding you,” You say without blinking, looking down at him. You wrap your arms around his waist and let him cuddle into you “The concubines get angry if I don’t after,”

“...Don’t talk about them right now,”

You laugh “Right, sorry.”

“....What about me?”

You laugh a little at him pretending he isn’t worried.

“I know you said not to mention it but I’m all worn out for today. So get some sleep. I’ll have my Advisor prepare more in the morning but you should rest.”

“Ugh. Fine. If you insist,” He says, melting into you anyway. You laugh to yourself as he closes his eyes.

You’ve signed up for something fun.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshim impact x reader #genshin impact smut #writing tag #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #please read this i rlly like how it turned out sdjkdkfj #ask to tag #age gap cw #infidelity cw #cheating cw #<- its not cheating its like common in the time period but im tagging anyway #okay. going to disappear again after queueing a bit bc im supposed to be on hiatus till goj is finished

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ihopeinevergetsoberr · 2 months

Text

the counterpart

chapter 4 — the day after you stole my heart

rating: explicit. the smut chapter is here. i’m done edging ya’ll. or am i?…

word count: 5,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of y/n, as usual)

cw: smoking, some mild cussing. now to the real shit: did you know you can play chess and fuck simultaneously? well now you know. everybody say thank you sober. brief oral, (fem receiving), unprotected sex. poorly proof-read, i’ll deal with that a bit later.

part 5 —

Every chess player had a favourite vice. That is a proverbial axiom, a mandatory requirement to pursuing a chess career: if one doesn’t have a murderous little something to kill him slowly, but surely — then they shall forever be declared an amateur, a poser, a pathetic excuse of a genius.

Blackburne loved a good drink. He would chug that scotch down like a thirsty man, but it didn’t stop him from becoming the greatest of his time — he mastered the art of combining poison with flawless skill. Tal, on the other hand, held onto his liquor crutch a bit too tight — it didn’t blunt his sharp mind, yet still made people wonder how he‘d managed not to drink himself into a much earlier grave. Generational differences or the infamous Eastern European relationship with alcohol? The biographers weren’t exactly sure, but one fact still remains a tragic reality: once you touch the piece professionally — you’re doomed, and winning a tournament won’t be the only addictive feeling in your life.

But what were Viktor’s vices?

He liked to think he had none. He would politely turn down every temptation, and it made him unique — an outstanding exception, a pleasant anomaly.

Until he met his undoing. His mess of disheveled hair, mingled scents of thrifted threadbare leather, nail-polish and tobacco, mascara fallouts under each tortured with the lack of sleep eye, his constant, impeccable taunt — light-hearted, slightly erotic, animate.

A vice of special danger. A vice much worse than some substance corrupting one's lungs or liver. A vice that went straight for his poor heart.

A woman.

A provocation.

You.

Viktor knew he was a goner the second you challenged him, smartassing your way out of the massacre of pawns — a risky trick not every professional is daring to try, crass and intimidating, and therefore effective. Quite the aggressive nuisance you were — you encroached on his pieces, yet even the possibility of swallowing a delicious knight or two wasn’t tempting enough for you to stoop down to chasing after a man. He really had to lure you into losing that carefulness, boring you out to make you throw yourself at him — but only on the board, of course. Viktor would never indulge more unvarnished fantasies. A bewitched one, yet still a gentleman.

Although he could picture making a solid threat out of you. After all, you were already threatening his sanity. He wore the afterglow of your touch like a phantom trophy, sweetly picturing how other parts of you would feel at the mercy of his tenderness — if only you’d be willing to allow him near you like that: in ways that involved sacrally holding hands and shyly asking for permission to press a goodbye kiss to the crooked corner of your smirking mouth. A threat like that is more than capable of becoming a chess menace: if that’s what you can do to a delicate man’s mind after just one unfinished match and a few equivocal conversations — then you could easily become a champion.

But was he allowed to become something more than just a counterpart shaping you into a better player? Was he allowed to think of you softly when he laid face up in the dark comfort of his room, silence pulsating rhythmically in each ear, as mind drifted to the sound of your laughter — raspy from all the cigarettes you have for lunch? Was he allowed to stare at your hands as they contemplated their next move? To memorize each crack of the thick red coating your nails? To wonder if you’d be opposed to accepting a soft kiss pressed to the cleft of your knuckles after he’d helped you patch up — if only he was brave enough to offer it?

The desperate need to acquaint himself with you more intimately kept suckling at his usually reserved demeanor, melting it off his secretly passion-starved soul. The whole Saturday was spent in aching anticipation, the board with your by-heart recorded moves spread on his desk, a palm slammed across Viktor’s forehead as he replayed your game over and over again. Jayce peeked from behind the sharp arc of his shoulder, clueless as to what could possibly drive his tactful friend into a distress of that extent.

Viktor groaned, aggressively pressing his fingers into his hot from the restless thinking temple. The pieces were mocking him from their hopeless positions — at this point they could’ve aligned into the word ‘liar’ and it would still pain him less than their current placement.

There was no draw. The absence of queen was crucial in your situation — especially considering your previous moves. You really couldn’t get out of this. And he knew it the very instance you’d accidentally caged yourself with that impulsive hunger for his bishop.

And he lied to you. Willingly. Out of pure, selfish eagerness — just to see your brain come up with a solution, and he was oh so close to witnessing it — if only you didn’t gnaw into your nail halfway through. If only he didn’t have a lecture to get to that Friday.

But charming women demand academic sacrifices. He’ll do better next time. If next time ever comes. How naїve of him.

“I don’t get it,” Jayce muttered, throwing another puzzled gaze on Viktor’s dim misery, “why would you lie to her about the draw?”

Viktor sighed, leaning into his chair, wincing at the heavy moanful creak of it.

“I wanted to see her squirm, I suppose,” he confessed, but the answer didn’t seem to please him. “Scratch that, not squirm. She’s a… strange player, let’s put it that way. I just wanted to see her try to get out of that irreparable quandary. Sheer curiosity, if you will.”

“Strange player as in… hopeless?” Jayce quiered, carefully hovering about the board, forehead wrinkled into a frown as he desperately tried to understand what ‘quandary’ Viktor was referring to.

“No, not at all,” Viktor objected, defensively. Had Jayce smiling knowingly at the rushed remark, light-hearted mockery spilling out of his friendly grin. “Impulsive, more like. Brilliant, but so impulsive. If that wasn’t the case — I would‘ve offered her a draw. At the very least. She could’ve beat me if she noticed my plans on her queen in time.”

“Tell her you lied to her.”

“I’m certain she already noticed that much,” Viktor muttered, tired frustration prominent in each heavy sigh as his fingers found a few pieces, twisted them nervously a few times, then poked the pad of his index sharp and angry — as if trying to pierce right through it, to sober up from the heaving regret.

Charming women demand honesty. Precision. Utter resentment even towards experimental white lies.

Or do they really? Viktor was about to find out.

On a Sunday morning he woke up coated in sweat, trembling hand an anxious slam against his wet forehead in a frightened search for signs of fever, followed by a relieved exhale when he didn’t find any. The squealing alarm clock kept persistently reminding him of the tortures he was yet to endure before the revanche — two hours of cramping anticipation: one spent on a rushed meal and a cold shower and the other on an even more hastened trip to the bakery.

He watched the baker wrap the pastries for him with a meticulous frown — that polite old lady wasn’t aware of the importance of her mission, of the fact that those fluffy buchteln were actually a peace offering. Them, and his decision not to bring the timers with him today. Perhaps keeping you well-fed and unlimited in torturing him on the board for however long you pleased could make up for the silly lie he’d regretted so immensely.

The walk to your dorm was slow, slothful even — he picked the long picturesque path on purpose: both not to suffer from the still merciless sunlight, and to avoid showing up earlier than you requested. It takes a lot to please a woman, and he was willing to commit to it — but a sweet little something and some punctuality would have to suffice for now.

So at eleven sharp, with a handful of baked goods wrapped in crispy paper and a nervous grip on the handle of his cane, Viktor was already standing at your door. He sighed, checking the number on it for the umpteenth time — and when that glistening little ‘505’ glared down at him from its honorary position, his hand had finally flexed into a fist and knocked. Politely.

No response. Only an illegible little something — an annoyed groan supposedly — audible through the door, and Viktor cocks an eyebrow, knocking again; this time, a little bit more insistently.

“Fuck’s sake, what part of ‘do not disturb’ you didn’t get?”

Five angry footsteps. No warning to back off. Five more jarring spins of the clanking keys — and the door flies open, practically disarming Viktor of his cane, forcing him to clumsily step away, going limp and even paler.

“Oh. It’s you.” So soft. Like that mouth — now stretched into a lovely grin — wasn’t just spewing harsh swears. Like those tangled signs of freshly interrupted slumber weren’t scattered across your hair like a sweet morning torture. Like you were completely oblivious to the slight arc your waist caught as you leaned on the doorframe, thin straps of the see-through shirt hanging loosely off each shoulder.

A dare. To slip even lower, to find that fabric crumpled above your navel and — of course — fully absent around the skin of hips, that flowed into just as exposed thighs, then calves and, finally, a definitely barefoot sight.

He didn’t make it past your underwear.

Spellbound, he followed the nod of your head — a few hesitant steps inside, gaze clumsy and inquisitive, already roaming across your room. A humble tremble as it slid over the swell of your backside when you rushed to the lock — to keep him in that cozy cage of yours for today. Eyes rolled, running over the messy bed — no doubt, still warm after you basked in it sweet and half-naked. He spotted the board and lingered there, in a nervous attempt to count every fallen into the folded sheets piece. Anything to find a decent enough distraction while you were struggling to crawl into your jeans — the ones you threw onto your desk the night before, hoping to have them on before he shows up.

“You really do sleep in on Sundays,” he found his voice, choking on a chuckle and watched you scurry around the place, finally not with your ass out. One hop to the left to grab a brush, one slip to the right to practically knock over an ashtray on the bookshelf — a haphazard thing, chaotic and rhythmless.

“I went to bed late,” you mumbled a confession apologetically. “Took me a while to analyze our game. Which, mind you, wouldn’t have been the case if someone didn’t lie to me about the draw.”

“Is that the reason for your, eh… discontentment?” Viktor quiered, chuckling again. Caught you facing his back with a quizzical frown and met your gaze slyly over his shoulder. Pupils dilated and swiftly followed you to the bathroom, beautifully regretful as they realised you were about to leave him for a few minutes.

“No,” you laughed, walking out of his peripheral vision. “A few neighbors tried to disturb my precious beauty sleep earlier. You just happened to come under the fire.”

He hummed in silent understanding, accepting the invitation to explore your room with every fiber of his insatiable curiosity — fingers ran over the contents of your bookshelf, stroked the spine of ‘Masters of the Chessboard’ languid and delicate, relishing that delicious dejavu of the library incident in dreamy reminiscence. Had him stiffening as he caught a rhythmic shuffle coming from the bathroom, then smirking awkwardly as he realized you were simply brushing your teeth. Legs were aching for rest, yet he didn’t answer their painful calling, simply hovering above your desk with a heavy gasp — taking in every notebook and unsharpened pencil.

“Would you take that handsome nose out of my writing?”

Viktor shuddered, clinging off the crime scene with a dismissive shrug, shoulders arched and tense as you raced past them and whisked an ashtray out of its lonesome spot behind the books. Elbows brushed against each other sharp and brief, causing him to turn around with a guilty giggle. Eyes met yours one more time, then fell to your still tortuously uncovered clavicles. You didn’t change out of that loose shirt. A vengeful move or a generous blessing — Viktor was grateful for it nonetheless. And you kindly let him feast upon you in his respectful rapture, as long as he kept looking at you like that — with the excitement of a medieval man fainting at the sight of an exposed ankle.

You crossed whatever little distance divided you from the bed in a single step, kicked the muddled blanket off it like a stupid obstacle and slithered straight on the mattress, ordering him to sit down with a muffled tap by your side. Viktor cleared his throat and obeyed, albeit not expecting to get into one bed with you that fast; left his cane by your desk, took his shoes off and joined you on the sheets, stretching a braced leg out with a fleeting wince. Smiles were exchanged again, limbs relaxed and sank into the all-besieging softness, fallen chess pieces found and resurrected from their countless dents in the linens.

“Did you have any trouble finding me?” you finally interrupted the comfortable silence. He shook his head.

“No. I’m good at following instructions. Didn’t even have to bother your clientele.”

“And what’s that?” your finger pointed at the package he held protectively and your stomach suddenly whined for whatever was inside of it, instantly recognising the familiar bakery label on the paper. You spotted an oily stain at the bottom of it. Must be something sweet. Pastries.

“Oh,” he handed the precious wrap to you. “I’ve brought lunch. Well, breakfast, in your case, I suppose.”

You abandoned the chess board for him to set and anchored greedily into your bucheln, devouring it in a few excitedly large bites. It made him laugh — low and raspy, head rocked back in a precious quiver as eyes closed shut, tempting you to steal a peek at his contorted with chortling face. Flushed. Pretty.

“Thank you,” you mumbled through a chew, feeling the treat melt on your tongue deliciously — a freshly baked gift all yours to satiate with. And when you were done with it — all too fast, to be frank — your gaze returned to the board, widening at the sight of patiently waiting at your side white pieces.

“I thought we’re handling some unfinished business first?”

“No need. We both know the outcome anyway,” he declined discreetly. “I’d rather watch you take your revenge.”

You froze above the row of your pawns, considering the offered privilege. They were reflecting the light with hostile glints, ready to attack. Belligerent and nothing like those glimmers in Viktor’s eyes — all humble and endlessly curious. His dark pieces tensed up in quiet obedience, fully anticipating the first blood to be drawn.

So you indulged him, but not at all mercifully. No pastries can quench the hunger for vengeance. And he understood. He complied.

You greeted him with the taste of his own venom — pawns met in a good old Sicilian once again, resenting each other obliquely from their standard positions.

1.e4. The predictable, flavourful treason. A choice made not for the sake of efficiency — you opened like that because it was personal.

Simply couldn’t resist when it felt so right — to have Viktor completely at your disposal, and, most importantly, out of his own will. He huffed and moved his piece with an unimpressed sigh. Must’ve seen that coming. Of course.

“Eye for an eye, Viktor.”

He snickered. “Pawn for a pawn, more like.” A fucking smartass.

Your knight made an appearance next — you wanted to punch your way through a barricade he was about to build for you, hoping to prevent a possible attack. No need to fight the urge to shift closer, foreheads practically touching as both of you hovered above the board, glances so sharp no blade could ever compete with their inveteracy.

The plan was working. He moved another pawn to d6 for protection, playing into your delusion, and your breath grew hotter before his face in a cheeky laugh. Matched his energy with the same careful move — but not for the sake of creating a shield. It was a calculated preparation for a strike. And as you waited for him to bend to your will, he proved you wrong and took your pawn in two swift motions — one on the board, the other in a small jerk forward, close enough to steal that incredulous gasp of yours into his mouth, if only he was persistent enough.

Oh the fucking audacity! You pulled away from him to a distance more appropriate for a game of chess: both to bite back and to compensate for the distracting nature of your attire. Amber eyes twitched and descended to the crevice of your cleavage, then sprinted back to the board. Either still not brave enough, or simply reluctant to stare at the cost of a loss.

But you noticed. Noticed, and took it to your advantage, cruelly destroying the pawn he tricked you with while he was distraught. Weaponized his obvious weakness to whatever was so precious about your chest and bare shoulders, watching him put his knight into action with a now trembling hand. All is fair in love and war.

The torture was impeccable. It lasted long — diabolically so, extending every time he stepped back to save his pale ass from your aggressive approach. Fingers fiddled with the button of his collar when you almost caged him into a stalemate. Took you a dozen moves, one lost knight and around twenty minutes to do so.

Only twenty minutes. Filled with tension thicker than Bobby Fisher’s book, but that’s besides the point.

And yet he managed to get out of it — his queen lurched a few squares forward and dissected you from the check, ruining the perfect sight; made you swear angrily in a bitter whisper. Close, but no cigar. And you needed one. Desperately.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” you queried, watching him frown with a dismissive shrug.

“It’s your room.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Viktor sighed. Fingers flew to his shirt again, popping open one more button. Had your gaze nailed to the bulge of his voice box, to the slight tilt of his head when he smiled, tucking a single chestnut strand out of his narrowed eyes. A tease. A fidgety vision.

“If you please.”

Good.

You reached for the thrown somewhere nearby ashtray — as if the version of you from twenty minutes before knew that dealing with this man would be impossible without nicotine. Slipped into your pocket and handed him a pack, offering to share the poison together. He declined with a polite head shake and watched you put the cigarette slowly into your mouth — supposedly jealous of the stupid thing. Your pieces waited all around the place, aching to repeat the maneuver as soon as you were done harassing that poor, rusty lighter.

He ousted you of some promising options. You let the smoke fill your lungs, overlooking whatever little possibilities he left you to choose from — you could sacrifice one more pawn in exchange for his bishop later: but that won’t work if he notices it in time. Or you could refrain from attacking him just now in order to move closer to that delicious piece you were eyeing — both would result in a little compromise nonetheless.

You picked the latter. Moved the rook to d6 and exhaled with a wet little pop, catching him drawn to the slowly flowing out of your mouth smoke. Like he cared more about the shape of your lips than a grave you dug for him on the board. If only he slipped up to actually fall in it.

“You look distracted,” you whispered, going in for another drag. It burned your throat nice and thorough, adding to the kick you were getting out of aiming for his defense.

“I am distracted,” he confirmed with a hard swallow. “You’re not playing fair.”

“How so?”

“There was no need to make this so, eh… intimate.”

“Intimate?”

“Well, excuse me for the lack of a better vocabulary,” he snapped and abruptly captured your pawn, then threw it off the board with a hopeless huff. “You never claimed to be condescending and I’m aware of that, but please don’t toy with me. That’s beyond cruel.”

You stirred, letting the cigarette smolder into a thin bridge of ashes. Smiling to the accusation didn’t feel right anymore — his voice, tired of devastation, reduced you to thoughtfulness for a split second. Made you crave to address it softly.

“Are you questioning my methods?”

“No,” Viktor sighed. “I’m questioning my ability to resist them.”

Amber eyes flickered and slid up the curve of your shoulder, hands failed to abide by the stupid restraint and reached for you: one twined around your wrist and squeezed, tight and desperate, the other itched to cup your knee — but still lacked the boldness. Thankfully, you had just enough to flood the whole room.

“Then don’t resist,” you pleaded, feeling his breath collide with the bitter heat of yours.

And his hesitation crumbled, spilling clumsily against your bottom lip. Faces crushed together above the board, mouths opened and molded together hastily — a strangling union, full of whimpers and urgent tongue flicks. Made your hand go limp in his possessive clutch, and he used that opportunity to guide it into the ashtray, putting out the cigarette your tongue still tasted of.

So needy. Like he wanted you to crawl into his throat and slice it tenderly from the inside — if only doing so could guarantee that your kiss will be his undoing. In every single appropriate and inappropriate way.

Lips felt bruised, fingers used their newfound freedom to dig into his hair and tug him away from you softly, lungs burned from breathing him in sharply but oh so heavenly, and you were back at it again within seconds, though with starvation not nearly as impressive as his. Spine arched for him, tingling sweetly when he nudged you slightly to the left — away from the ashtray, the board and all the moves you were yet to make. Feral, but so careful — he was so afraid of destroying your work, yet so keen on ruining you. Preferably for any other man.

Viktor touched like a keeper, like someone others wouldn’t even dare to compete with. Had you shivering in a little convulsion when two undoubtedly talented fingers clung to your lower back and pressed, gliding swiftly into that delicious little dip. Made you wish he could grab more — like a trembling thigh or an ass cheek. You should’ve stayed in your underwear.

But he yielded so preciously. Didn’t let you near that pulsing spot on his neck when you tried to switch to it from his mouth: lips stayed on lips, and he intended to keep it that way. Hands locked behind your back and forced an attack, pulling you close enough to melt gently into his lap, and you left that vampiric attempt for later, settling for straddling him — tight and selfish. Not without a tiny evil itch to tease him out of that sudden bravery, to remind him that it’s you who plays White today. But judging from every pant Viktor made beneath you, he was pretty much aware of that.

You heard him gasp when tongues finally unraveled reluctantly, sharp chin still glistened with your spit, breath was a mess subtly tickling your neck. It drew a laugh out of him — that lovely sound of contentment nuzzling your collarbones with a soft shake, grateful for whatever pieces of you he was allowed to feel. Palms kept sweating nervously against the skin he found under your rolled up shirt.

“Greedy much?” you gave into the soft, tempting mockery. Leaned into his craving mouth and threw your head back, seizing every lick, nip and suck it had to offer. Let him move his palms elsewhere — wherever he pleased, really — and they fell into a cautious squeeze of both breasts, leaving sweet, eager scorches. Scooped your heart race up into a grip and pinched teasingly at one nipple, rolled it hard and stole a choked up moan. Yes. He was greedy. Very much so.

But the jeans were still there, tangling into the embrace and making it impossibly hard to find where he was hard for you. And you needed to feel him throb, raw and impatient as he was against your own torturous ache. As he would’ve been, to be precise — if not for the thick denim separating you cruelly from this obscenity.

He wasn’t thrilled to part with you even for a moment, eyes the prettiest begging stunt when you slid out of his lap — and, simultaneously, out of bed, pupils widened when he realized just what kind of honor you were about to do him. Fingers stayed on your hips and held them in place as you rose above him, digging into each shoulder for whatever leverage those trembling things could provide. Letting him help you out of that attire nice and slow — for the sake of savoring the sight Viktor didn’t deem himself worthy of earlier. Catching the bat of his breath when the cloth thumped to the floor, wrapping around your feet creased and forgotten. You stepped out of it in mad haste, felt him admire the softness of thighs with a languid touch as gaze flew back to yours in a shy request for permission.

And when you nodded, suddenly flushed from having this boy like this — messy-haired, hot and soft spoken, he stilled you securely between his widely parted legs and kissed you softly on the belly — just above that aroused little spot where you needed him most. Had you breaking in half above him, keening raggedly as he hooked his thumb into your pitifully soaked underwear and pulled it tenderly to the side, dark eyes glistening about just as much as the slick of your exposed folds.

A resolute man — he knew exactly what he wanted and went for it without hesitation. His tongue darted out to taste you in one long, relishing swipe — from slit to clit, deliciously sour as you were, moaning at his ministration. And that skilfull torture lasted a few pleasantly long minutes — until you were turned into an almost cumming disarray of weak knees and spasming muscles.

But, strangely enough, you wanted to be even with him. One knee bent and pushed lightly into his crotch, felt him tense up inside the tight cage of pants. He handed you the lead and fell boneless onto the sheets, head a muffled smack against the roughness of your headboard. Had you crawling back to him on all shaky fourth, shirt and ruined undergarments thrown barbarously to the nearest nightstand.

Impeccable in your naked splendor, you sat atop him again, chest heavy with all the things his spread out form did to your fragile heart. And it failed to resist the flaming urge to kiss him, smiling at the way he absorbed all of you so quickly — tongue caustic with your flavour, chestnut hair smelled of bitter cigarettes. Like he was already yours, ready to be kept in this muggy room for as long as you wished to have him.

You pulled away to cup him gently through the tortuous obstacle of clothes, palming whatever you could feel through that redundantly thick layer. And, judging from the Czech curse he hissed through his clenched teeth, you managed to feel just enough — made him slam a palm against that debauched little whimper, appalled to his own loss of eloquence. Bit his lip and nodded, weak and wobbly, at that curved throb.

“Please.”

And you allowed him that mercy. More so to soothe that painful need of him inside you than to ease his sensitive predicament — but it didn’t matter. Not when you pulled his pants down, brusque and impatient, let them roll clumsily around his lean thighs. Didn’t waste much time on his underwear either — lust came before manners, made you gasp when fingers wrapped around just what you were about to take. Body foretasted a tight, girthy fit.

It felt heavy in your hand, smacked against his stomach with a lewd sound when you failed to hold it through a shudder. Caught him staring not so placidly when hips arched, making you glide along the inches of him in a smooth little agony. Gaze darkened when you hovered, working him through the warm clench of entrance. He didn’t dare to rush you, to pierce through you to get that over with. Just took you carefully by the wrists and leveled the back of one palm with his swollen lips, softly kissing each knuckle while you stretched around him slow and pliable. Had you swearing when he budged and tip finally slid deep inside with a delicious tingle.

“Is being defeated the price I must pay for this?” he spoke through a raspy laugh, eyes still nailed to the debauched twine of your bodies. “I’ll gladly start resigning after my very first move if that’s the case.”

“But I didn’t win,” you breathed out, freeing one hand out of his lovely grasp. “We didn’t get to finish.”

He stiffened. Fingers unraveled from yours completely, returning to his side.

“Would you like to finish?”

You gulped, twitching around him with a strangled whimper.

“Yes.”

And he took it for a command. Turned slowly to the board and reached for it not exactly effortlessly, cautious not to knock any pieces over. Brows formed a concentrated frown as he rotated it, attentive and skittish, returning the army of attacking white into your possession. Placed it all softly onto his stomach and held a breath, trying oh so diligently not to ruin a single thing with the slight rise of his inhale. Made you laugh as your thighs parted wider to make more place for the duel, felt him quiver inside you out of sheer, depraved excitement.

He won’t last long. Not a chance.

So you decided to rid him of his misery. First rid, then ride, to be precise — but was it really a misery when you were wrapped around him so viciously tight, keeping him so warm through the rough slap of defeat? If anything, a single loss is a steal for that twisted bliss.

And you could already see the sweet victory. Rook took the bishop you were drooling over the whole time, gave you the cheeky opportunity to switch to a wheezy whisper.

“Check.” Good god.

Caught you nearly cumming on his cock — who needs friction when seductive mockery is an option?

His move smelled of retreat — not that he had any other routes. King ran away to h7, hiding behind the pawn, but you were biting right at its shiny crown, destroying his precious shelter with that same acute rook.

“Check.” Again. Had him twitching into that luscious spot in one sudden hitch, mouth failed to suppress the most pitifully delicious moan.

So when he attempted to escape for the third time — though rather reluctantly, to be frank — your queen stood right there before him, emitting pure humiliation. And, sure, he could still sweep it off its precious square by a simple f8 move — but it wouldn’t save him from the sly rook, sneakily waiting to put him into a numerous deadlock. A sweet, inescapable doom, leaking all over him. So he picked that poison and surrendered. In an old-fashioned way. Just like you imagined. Left the honors for you to do.

“Checkmate,” you uttered, and couldn’t take it anymore — foreheads bumped together fervent and sweaty, pieces poked the skin of your stomach, crushing beneath it as you leaned to kiss him rough and desperate. Hips finally made their first buck to help you both pick up where you left off.

But Viktor yearned to be helpful too. Pieces fell all over the place for you to find them later when long fingers dug into your hips, forcing both you and the board off of him. So pent up, so lovingly untamed — he threw you into the pile of chess, sheets and ashes, and thrusted deeper, had you seeing stars on the blank space of your ceiling. Quarrel died beneath him with whatever little shame you still weren’t disposed of, and your legs wrapped around his waist into a tight lock, pulling him so flush against you that breasts started to hurt from just how hard they were squashed under the pressure of his chest.

—

That Sunday you received a noise complaint from your neighbors. Lost three pawns, one rook and two bishops. Viktor walked out of your room with a giant scratch across the crook of his sore shoulder and a few buttons of his shirt missing.

But looking back at it, when you collapsed, breathy and fucked out, onto the destroyed amenity of your bed — the thoughts of your newfound counterpart haunted you until eyes squeezed shut, drifting to slumber with a content smirk.

And it was totally worth it.

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @thehistoriangirl @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor smut #no beta we die like men #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #the cunterpart

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nyeigneous · 1 year

Text

Garth Igneous 加什·伊格尼斯

Age：45 年龄：四十五岁

Birth: 20/05/1893 生日：一八九三年五月二十日

Height：188cm 身高：一百八十八厘米

Build：Emaciation 体型：消瘦

Sexuality：Homosexuality 性取向：同性恋

Appearance:

He has short blond hair, light blue eyes, and an aggressive pointed nose.

There is a huge scar on the right forehead. A tattoo on the inside of his left forearm but is damaged by a scar. Both forearms were covered with scars made by knife. In addition, there are countless scars on his body, some of which are left by knife, some of which are left by wolves.

金褐色短发，浅蓝色眼睛，有着一个咄咄逼人的尖鼻子。

他的右侧额头有一个巨大的伤疤。

左臂内侧有一个纹身，但是已经被疤痕破坏掉了。他的每条胳膊内侧都布满了刀子划伤后留下的疤痕。除此之外他的身上也布满了数不清的伤疤，有些是自残留下的，还有一些是被狼咬伤留下的。

Personality:

Garth is a neurotic, selfish, arrogant, and cunning man. His good family background and rich knowledge make him have the arrogance to master everything, so once the development of things is not expected, he will lose his temper like a child.

加什是个神经质，自私，傲慢又狡猾的人。

他的良好的出身和丰富的知识储备让他有着一种对一切都尽在掌握的傲慢，所以一旦事情的发展不在他的意料之中，便会像孩子一样发脾气。

His mind is not complicated, but it is this straightforward way of thinking that makes it easier for him to do impulsive and reckless things.

他的心思并不复杂，反而正是这种单刀直入的思维方式让他更容易做出冲动和不计后果的事情。

He often overreacts to others.

他经常对别人的言行反应过激。

Because of bipolar disorder, almost all his shortcomings are magnified, making him a completely uncontrollable madman.

在患上躁郁症之后，他所有的缺点几乎都被放大了，令他变成了一个完全不可控的疯子。

Weapons and skills:

Shotgun, hunting knife, poison bait; Good at tracking, anti-reconnaissance, setting traps, and piss his partner off.

双管霰弹枪，猎刀，毒饵；

擅长追踪，反侦察，设置陷阱，还有惹毛自己的同伴。

重要的人：安德烈·别列科夫

宝贵之物：浪琴狩猎者腕表（安德烈送给他的）

恐惧之物：极光；骑马

Important people: Andre Berekov Precious things: Longines hunter's watch (Andre gave it to him)

Fear: aurora; riding

Other：

吸烟很多；Smoking a lot;

情绪激动时会过度呼吸；Excessive breathing when excited;

酒量很差；Poor drinking capacity;

画画很好；Good at painting;

写日记；Keeping a diary;

喜欢用口哨吹肖邦的降E大调夜曲九号第二首；He likes to whistle Chopin nocturnes op.9. no2;

小时候被父母逼迫学过钢琴，虽然很痛恨钢琴，但是弹得不错；When he was a child, he was forced by my parents to learn the piano. Although he hates the piano, he plays it well

人物历史History:

北方口音Northern accent

加什的父母是是来自伯明翰的地质学家和生物学家，他们是典型的守旧并且固执的知识分子。受到父母的影响，加什有着丰富的博物学知识，以及英格兰北方口音。

Garth's parents are geologists and biologists from Birmingham, UK, they are typically old-fashioned and stubborn intellectuals. Influenced by his parents, Garth has rich natural knowledge and a northern English accent.

在1900��左右淘金热时期，伊格尼斯夫妻带着18岁的大儿子赫尔，16岁的女儿利兹和10岁的加什来到阿拉斯加进行调研。与他们同行的还有26岁的詹森·斯坦福斯，作为孩子们的家庭教师。年幼的加什正是需要父母的时候，但是夫妻俩的工作非常繁忙，便将照顾加什和教他读书写字的任务全权交给了詹森。

During the gold rush around 1900, Mr. Igneous and his wife come to Alaska with their 18-year-old son Hull, 16-year-old daughter Liz and 10-year-old Garth for research. Along with them is Jason Stamford, 26, a tutor for the children. The young Garth is in need of his parents, but the couple's work is very busy, they entrust Jason with the task of taking care of Garth and teaching him to read and write.

温柔的人 A mild person

詹森是一个才华横溢的年轻人，本职专业是古生物学，曾经是加什父亲的学生。他性格随和有耐心，但是因为患过小儿麻痹症，他的左腿肌肉萎缩，只能靠手杖行走，同时还有各种并发症，导致他虚弱而瘦小。但是这并没有影响他的温柔和对生活的热爱。这些美好的品德同时也深深地影响了加什。

Jason is a talented young man with a major in paleontology. He was once a student of Garth's father. Because of polio, his left leg muscles atrophy and he can only walk with a walking stick. Various complications lead to his weakness and emaciation. But this does not kill his tenderness and love of life. These beautiful virtues also deeply influenced Garth.

加什小时候体弱多病，不喜欢户外活动，因此除了上课，他也有大量的时间跟詹森相处，两人像手足和父子一样促膝长谈，读书，学习钢琴，亲密关系与日俱增。在加什18岁那年，他大胆向詹森袒露了自己炙热而迷茫的倾慕之情。詹森也很喜欢这个好学而热情的男孩，但是职业道德让他拒绝了男孩。因为詹森也是一名同性恋，他没有指责加什非同常人的性取向，而是鼓励他勇敢做自己，不要违背自己的意愿。

As a sickly child, Garth does not like the outdoors, so he spends a lot of time with Jason in addition to attending classes. The two talk like father and son, read books and learn the piano, and their bond grows.

When Garth turns 18, he boldly confesses his hot, confused admiration to Jason. Jason also likes the studious and enthusiastic boy, but the work ethic makes him turn him down. Jason, who is also gay, does not criticize Garth's unusual sexuality, but encourages him to be himself and not go against his will.

但是这些事都被加什的父母看在眼里，他们辞退了詹森。加什与父母大吵了一架。

But Garth's parents see all this, and they fire Jason. Garth has a big fight with his parents.

詹森回到曼彻斯特的老家之后身体状况堪忧，但是一直跟加什保持着密切的书信来往，给年轻人的困扰和疑惑以中肯而温柔的建议。三年后，加什22岁那年，詹森怀着遗憾离世。

Jason returns home to Manchester in poor health, but keeps up a close correspondence with Garth, offering gentle advice on the young man's troubles and doubts. Jensen died three years later, when Garth is 22.

逃婚 To escape a marriage

1919年，加什25岁，关于自己的职业和专业规划问题，他跟父母进行了一场非常激烈的争吵。他的父母已经详细地为他安排了工作和婚事，要求他迎娶当地投资商的女儿，以获得学术上的经济支持。但是加什冲动地向父母表明了自己的性取向以及对自由的渴望。他的父母非常生气，认为是詹森给自己儿子灌输了不好的想法。一怒之下加什收拾行李离家出走。

In 1919, when Garth is 25 years old, he has a very heated argument with his parents about his professional planning. His parents have arranged work and marriage for him in detail and ask him to marry the daughter of a local investor in order to obtain academic financial support. Garth impulsively tells them his sexual orientation and desire for freedom. His parents are very angry, abuse Jason for instilling bad illusion into his son. In a rage, Garth packs up and leaves home.

在这件事前半年左右，加什的父母认识了来自美国南部的安德森·黑斯廷斯（27岁），这位英俊而富裕的年轻人正在为自己的事业寻找地质学以及生物学领域的专家的协助，他衣着华丽，谈吐得体，很快就得到了加什全家人的认可。两个年轻人就此相识了，并且私交甚密。

Half of year ago, Garth's parents meet Anderson Hastings (27) from the south of the US. This handsome and wealthy young man is looking for the assistance of experts in geology and biology for his career. He is gorgeous in clothes and spokes appropriately and is soon recognized by the Ignoneus family. The two young people meet and become intimate.

加什离家出走之后理所当然的去投奔了安德森，他很快就带着加什踏上了去往苏联出差的游轮。两人开始热恋。

Garth runs away from home and goes to Anderson. Anderson soon takes Garth on a cruise ship to the Soviet Union for a business trip.

安德森对于自己性取向从不隐藏，并且向外人介绍Garth为自己的男友。这些行为令Garth感到安全，他以为这是安德森认真对待自己的表现。但是Garth没想到的是，自己只是安德森炫耀的资本。

Anderson never hides his sexual orientation and introduces Garth as his boyfriend which makes Garth feel safe. But what Garth doesn't expect is that Anderson just takes him as a property could show off.

另外，安德森还是一个非常有控制欲的情场老手，他认为爱情只是交易，他提供奢华的生活条件，而男孩们只要听他的安排就好。他认为Garth寻找精神伴侣的想法非常无聊且没有意义。

In addition, Anderson is a control freak playboy. He believes that love is only a trade. He provides his boyfriends with luxurious living conditions, and the only thing the boys need to do is following his arrangement. He thinks that Garth's idea of finding a spiritual partner is very boring and meaningless.

白月光Bright moonlight

在那个年代，通过学术研究项目来洗钱的现象逐渐在有钱人的圈内流行起来。而安德森带着Garth去见的人，大部分也是这类执绔子弟。游轮上的日子花天酒地且奢靡混乱，Garth对这种气氛感到无助且厌恶，安德烈·别列科夫（23岁）也就是在这段时间内出现在他面前的。

In that time, the phenomenon of money-laundering through academic research projects becoming popular among the rich. Most of the people Anderson takes Garth to see are such dandies. The days on the cruise ship are extravagant and chaotic. Garth feels helpless and disgusted at the atmosphere. Andrei Berekov (23) appears during this time.

安德烈是那群苏联学者团里最安静的一个，大家都在喝酒应酬的时候他会找个安静的角落独自写写画画。相识之后Garth很快发现安德烈像自己一样也是对这场所谓学术旅行抱有错误的期待的人，并且，他在植物学上的知识令Garth震惊（虽然安德烈的口音给两人的沟通带来了不小的困难）。

Andrei is the quietest member of the group of Soviet scholars. While everyone drinks and socialize, he would sit in a quiet corner and write alone. Garth finds out that Andre, like himself, is also the one who has false expectations for this so-called academic trip. Moreover, Garth is shocked by his knowledge of botany (although Andre's accent makes it difficult for them to communicate).

跟安德森完全相反的是，温文尔雅的安德烈总能看到Garth灵魂上的闪光点，他尊重他的每一个灵感和观念，并将其演变成一场场友好而意义非凡的学术讨论。这几乎就是Garth一直在追求的关系状态。

Contrary to Anderson, the gentle Andre can always see the flash in Garth's soul. He respects every inspiration and idea of Garth and can turn every chat into a friendly and meaningful academic discussion. This is the kind of relationship state that Garth has been pursuing.

与此同时，Garth与安德森的关系在逐渐瓦解。安德森自顾自地将Garth引荐给学术圈名人，用钱打通渠道让Garth发布未完成的论文，擅自为他安排好了一切，Garth只要做一个不用思考的精致男孩去谄媚安德森就可以。这所有的一切都违背了Garth的原则。一次次的争吵并没有让他们互相理解，最终两人分手。

At the same time, the relationship between Garth and Anderson is disintegrating. Anderson arranges cocktail party bender to introduce Garth to celebrities in the academic circle. He buys ways for Garth to publish his unfinished paper and plans everything for him without authorization. The only thing Garth needs to do is being a good boy to flatter Anderson. All this violates Garth's principles. They row again and again and break up.

这之后安德烈正式开始追求Garth，将他介绍给自己的家人，并且在白俄罗斯的老家一起生活了一段时间。后来，两人决定前往爱丁堡大学进修植物分类学。

Then Andre and Garth fall in love. He introduces Garth to his family and live together in his hometown in Belarus for some time. Later, the two decide to go to the University of Edinburgh for master's degree in plant taxonomy.

一年半之后，两人研究生毕业，安德烈在毕业典礼上向Garth求婚。两人偷偷交换了戒指之后，踏上了前往北极圈的旅行。

A year and a half later, they graduate. Andre proposes to Garth at the graduation ceremony. After secretly exchanging rings, the two men embark on a trip to the Arctic Circle.

极光中的骑行 Riding under the aurora

婚后三年，两人旅行来到了加拿大育空地区，与另外一伙皮草猎人小队起了争执，被对方发现了恋人关系之后，遭到了恶意的报复。安德烈被殴打致死，割下生殖器之后尸体被悬挂在树上，并在脖子上挂着“我是鸡奸者”的牌子示众。加什则被监禁起来，被迫在极夜的漫天极光中看着恋人的尸体一天天被乌鸦啃食殆尽。几天后他凭借最后一口气逃了出去，骑马朝着南方一路狂奔，最终得救。

In 1923, the two men come to Yukon, Canada, and have a dispute with another group of fur hunters and they are maliciously retaliated. Andre is beaten to death. After being cut off his genitals, his body is hung in a tree and displayed with an "I'm a sodomite" sign around his neck. Garth is imprisoned and forced to watch his lover's body being eaten by crows in the aurora of the polar night. A few days later, with his last breath, he escapes, rides all the way south, and is finally saved.

育空疯狗The mad dog of Yukon

这段噩梦般的经历对他的打击非常之大，残酷的折磨也给他的右侧头皮部分留下了丑陋的巨大伤疤。他患上严重的躁郁症，自残，并且有自杀倾向。他曾经非常温和并且幽默，现在变成了一个臭名昭著的人，并且得到了一个育空疯狗的绰号。

This nightmare experience is a great blow to him, and the cruel torture leaves a huge ugly scar on his right scalp and countless scars on his body. He suffers from serious bipolar disorder, self-mutilation, and suicidal tendencies. He used to be a very gentle and humorous man, but now he has become an infamous one and gets the nickname of Yukon mad dog.

有传闻说，失去理智的加什找到了当年折磨他的狩猎小队并且用极其残忍的手法报复了他们，但是因为精神问题，警察让他只在监狱里待了很短的时间，他便重获自由。但是这也只是传闻而已。没人知道加什到底做了什么。人们只是再也没有在育空地区见到过那些人。

It is rumored that Garth finds the hunting team that hurt him years ago and retaliated against them with extremely cruel methods, but, the police let him stay in prison for only a short time because of his mental problems.

It's just a rumor. No one knows what Garth does to them. People just never see those people again in the Yukon.

危险游戏 Dangerous game

尽管加什的精神问题非常严重，行为也非常不可控，但是不可争议的是他是这一带地区最杰出的猎狼专家。1932年，他被邀请加入一支狩猎小队，他们计划南下去狩猎大型毛皮猎物。

Although Garth's mental problems are very serious and his behavior is very uncontrollable, it is indisputable that he is the most outstanding wolf hunting expert in this area. In 1932, he is invited to join a hunting team. They plan to go south to hunt large prey for fur.

初冬季节，加什遇到了身为守林员的哈特。哈特毫无怜悯的攻击将小队逼出了林区，同时，这个阴沉而凶悍的护林员吸引了加什的注意。他觉得，能杀死他，抑或被他杀死都是不错的事情。

In early winter, Garth meets Hart, a forest ranger. Hart's merciless attack drives the team out of the forest, while the gloomy and fierce ranger attracts Garth's attention. He thinks it is all good to kill him or be killed by him.

加什很快发现，尽管这个护林员的攻击非常凶猛并且极具威胁性，但是他似乎并不是真正想要他们的命。加什离开了队伍，独自回到木屋附近，开始用主动攻击的方式试探哈特的耐心的底线。哈特几乎是马上回应了他的攻击。然而像加什想的一样，哈特并不打算杀掉他——每一次射击都擦着他的脸颊飞了过去，只有几厘米的距离。

Garth soon finds that although the ranger's attack is fierce and threatening, he doesn't seem to really want to kill them. Garth leaves the team, returns to the cabin alone, and begins to test Hart's patience by taking the initiative to attack. Hart responds to his attack almost immediately.

As Garth thought, Hart does not intend to kill him - each shot wipes his cheek and flies over, only a few centimeters away.

加什几乎一下子就沉迷在了这场危险的游戏当中。哈特的反应让他十分满意——他的反击不会真正的对自己构成威胁，其中的威胁性又能让他兴奋起来。尽管他自己也清楚，这种病态的情绪源于当年他面对死亡时在心里留下对的心理阴影，这让他恐惧，狂躁，想哭又想笑，但是却是唯一能让自己感觉到活着的时刻。

Garth almost immediately indulges in this dangerous game.

Hart's reaction satisfies him - his counterattack would not only really pose a threat to himself, but also could excite Garth. Although Garth himself knows that this morbid emotion originates from the psychological shadow leaves in his heart when he faces death, which makes him afraid, manic, want to cry, want to laugh, it is the only time that he could feel alive.

怪人组合Freak couple

然而这场荒诞而危险的对决并不是以某一方的死亡为结局。在一个初雪天，哈特把加什逼到了绝路，但是他没有扣动扳机，只是问他为什么这么做。加什又哭又笑，说自己想死。哈特转身离开了。

However, this absurd and dangerous duel does not end with the death of one party. On a snowy day, Hart forces Garth to a dead end, but he doesn't pull the trigger, just askes him why he does it. Garth cries and laughs, says he wants to die.

Hart turns and leaves.

加什想不通为什么哈特有那么多次机会杀死他却没有下手。仇恨和恐惧在他的心里已经燃烧了太久，将他内心世界的草原烧得一片焦黑。然而从那天起，他能感觉到，一束光穿过黑烟照了进来，有什么东西在重新慢慢地萌芽。

Garth couldn't figure out why Hart has so many chances to kill him but doesn't do it. Hatred and fear have been burning in his heart for too long, burning the grassland of his inner world to black. However, from that day on, he could feel that a beam of light comes in through the black smoke, and something is slowly sprouting again.

重新建立信任的过程非常漫长。但是他们并没有什么细致的沟通和交流，对那场莫名其妙的枪战也只字不提。两个怪人只是共享一堆篝火，简单地说两句话，然后便自然而然的一起行动了。加什知道自然界也有不少很奇怪的搭档，比方说渡鸦和豺，蜜鸟和蜜獾。有的搭档甚至能终生在一起行动，即使一方死亡，另一方也不会再找新的搭档。也许他俩也是这样的动物吧。

The process of rebuilding trust is very long.

They do not have any detailed communication and exchange and do not mention the inexplicable gun battle. The two freaks just share a bonfire, say a few words, and then naturally act together.

Garth knows that nature also has many strange partners, such as raven and jackal, Greater Honeyguide and honey badger. Some partners can even act together all their lives. Even if one party dies, the other will not find a new one. Maybe they are such animals, too.

636 notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 5 months

Text

I Carry A Darkness ~ Part 21

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji X Robin

This is part 21 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Word Count: 4255

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 11 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

Summary: Your crew leaves their home behind, and you hunt for your missing lover. Can your family come together as chaos wracks the city?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Cigarettes, They're Gross, Don't Smoke, Smut, ANGST, Relationship Drama, Emotional Hurt/No Comfort, Mild Violence, Polyamory, Pet Names, Vaginal Fingering, Porn with Feelings

A/N: !!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7 arc. Heeeyy, I hope you like DRAMA. And possibly crying. But you can have a tiny bit of sweetness, and a lil smut at the end, as a treat 💜

Extra A/N: We will get to see more of reader's weapons in this chapter, so just below the cut I've included a description, and reference photos and videos. Feel free to skip if you're not interested, I just love these weapons so much. I've also added this description to the We've All Got Needs Masterlist in case you want to check it out later.

Modified Tonfa ~ Reader's Weapons

Usopp designed these weapons based of off the reader's description of her favorite weapon to watch students practice with when she would pass a martial art's studio on her way to and from school. Luckily Zoro was forced to practice with weapons besides swords, and his stubbornness to be the best meant that he is skilled enough to train the Reader with this technique (at least up to a point).

Typically tonfa are made of wood, but her weapons are made of metal, and they are modified so that poison darts can be released from a distance, as well as poisoned metal spikes like thorns can be used in defensive positions.

The Reader utilizes her knowledge as a botanist to locate and use poisonous plants for these weapons.

One is dark purple and is called Blackout Tonfa, whose poison causes enemies to fall unconscious. The other is bright green and is called Daydream Tonfa. Its poison causes foes to hallucinate.

I Really Like This Short Competition Demo

Super Short But Awesome Tonfa Technique Demo

Patricia Ja Lee Tonfa Fight

I Carry A Darkness ~ Part 21

There was no way to pack up everything. You had to choose which supplies would be the most difficult to replace. Your plants, seeds, herbs, and tinctures, you wrapped everything you could fit as carefully as you could, using your clothes to wrap the glass items so you could fit more.

Everyone was frantic, bouts of crying kept bubbling up while the crew prepared to leave their home behind.

You gripped your practice tonfa, strapping them to the belt Usopp had made for you.

Usopp…

His bloody, rage filled face, and his stinging words haunted you.

‘You don’t want weak people on your crew do you?’

Clenching your jaw, you were determined to find Robin before you let yourself fall to pieces.

I need to be stronger.

You crept through the hallway, the crew all lost in their own packing to notice.

Holding your breath, you snuck into Usopp's quarters, guilt riding you.

Luckily he hadn’t hidden the box. Zoro had made him promise not to let you have the modified tonfa outside of practice.

It’s not his decision.

You grabbed the two tonfa, one dark purple and the other bright green, tears welling in your eyes. Memories of all the time spent with Usopp, how hard he’d worked to make the incredible weapons, how excited he always was when you’d improve your skills.

Biting your lip, you left a piece of paper in the box.

‘Thank you.’

You had hidden Usopp’s gifts in your luggage, struggling to make them fit. Chopper was kind enough to use his human form to carry your luggage along with his medical supplies and books.

Finding an inn was easy, but you felt blank as you followed along. Zoro led you into a room, closing the door, and you realized he’d set you up with a room alone together. You hadn’t noticed while they were paying, your eyes stuck on the floor.

He helped you set down the small bags you’d been carrying, and tried to pull you toward the bed.

You wouldn’t budge.

“We need to find Robin.”

Zoro looked at the ground, taking a breath before gripping your shoulders.

“She’s strong, Needy, she’ll be okay. We’ll look for her in the morning.”

“She wasn’t okay when the admiral came. We couldn’t protect her.”

“Needy, we can’t help her if we don’t take care of ourselves.”

His tone was driving you fucking crazy. How calm he’d been through all the pain today, as if it didn’t affect him at all. His words felt condescending, as if you were a child, someone useless who couldn’t help.

“How would you feel if it was me out there? What if I was missing?”

You pulled back from his grasp, hands starting to gesture with your words as heat bubbled in you.

“That’s different.”

“How, Zoro? She’s part of this crew too.”

He stepped toward you, his mouth opening, then closing without a word.

“Why is it different, Zoro? Is it because you’re fucking me, or because I’m weak?”

“Whoa, Needy,” he breathed, eyes going wide as he reached for you again.

But you walked away, turning back to look at him while your arms shook, and your voice pitched higher.

“No, Zoro. You don’t understand how I feel right now. I can’t fucking shut down my feelings like you can.”

Zoro’s face went from concern to confusion, his brows furrowing as he crossed his arms.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Do you even care about Robin and Usopp,” you questioned, voice raising, shaking with anger. You felt out of control, unable to stop the poison flinging from you.

“Do you even care about me? Or are fucking and fighting the only things you know how to do?”

You watched Zoro’s jaw clench, his breathing shift, and you recognized his anger. He hadn’t shown it in a while, but you remembered how he looked when he was pushed over the edge.

You’d just never pushed him like this.

“Isn’t that why you’re with me, Needy? So I can make you strong, and fuck you into the ground? Isn’t that all you want from me?”

His voice was low and dangerous, and you wanted to scream at him. You almost did. Your voice was still raised though, your arms pointing at him, pleading and accusing.

“I want you, Zoro! I want the real you, who’s funny, who’s caring, who’s fucking loyal-”

“Ha, you’re one to talk.”

The bitter edge in his voice shot you through with nausea.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck, I don’t like this, Needy,” he panted shaking his arms at his sides as he started to pace back and forth.

“I don’t fucking like it either, Zoro. Would you give up on me so easily?”

He spun, coming to face you. Not too close, but his eyes were heavy as they bore into yours.

“I would never give up on you.”

You swallowed down the heat in your throat, fighting tears as you crossed your arms.

“I’m going to look for her.”

With a sigh, he shook his head slightly before nodding.

“Okay, Needy. I’m sorry,” he rushed, holding his hands out like he was calming a stray animal. “Let’s uh. Let’s go look for an hour, alright? But then we need to sleep so we can look more tomorrow.”

You crumpled then, hands covering your face as your knees went weak. Zoro was right there, holding you against his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, Needy. I’m sorry.”

Zoro had practically carried you back after your futile hour of searching. You crashed hard, not even changing clothes, not even waiting for Zoro to lay beside you before you were out.

There was a brief moment of peace as you woke, before the previous day came crashing onto you, heavy and sick. Zoro wasn’t in the room

He’d left a note on the bed.

‘On the roof. Couldn’t sleep.’

You crushed it in your hand, and hated yourself for your thoughts.

He can fall asleep anywhere. I guess yesterday got to him after all.

A soft knock made you gasp, and sudden fear shot through you.

“It’s me, Angel. Are you awake?”

Sanji’s voice was so hushed, but you climbed out of bed to run to it.

When he closed the door behind him he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head while he buried his face in your hair.

“Are you alright, my love?”

“No, Sanji.”

He sighed, nodding his head against you.

“Of course you aren’t.”

You pulled away, rushing to grab a change of clothes.

“Can we go look for Robin now?”

He looked up at the ceiling, his face drawn when he met your gaze again.

“I stood lookout all night near the shore. In case she came back to the Merry.”

He shook his head at your widened eyes, then pulled out a cigarette.

“She never said anything about leaving.”

You started scrambling into clean clothes, noticing that he looked away instead of watching you.

“She wouldn’t just leave, Sanji. Something happened to her. She wouldn’t leave.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, voice heavy. “Let’s go find the others.”

You found Chopper with Zoro on the roof, Luffy perched on the edge of the neighboring building, looking away from his crew.

“-injured. He could barely even stand up. And now he probably has a fever!”

“Chopper, that’s enough, okay. Don’t talk about him anymore.”

Your jaw fell open at Zoro’s words, and you knelt by Chopper, taking his hoof into your hand.

Sanji stepped between you as you shot a heated look at your swordsman.

“We’re going to look in town for Robin today. If anything happens, we should use this inn as the meetup point.”

Chopper followed Sanji's voice, trembling.

“I’ll come with you! Do you… do you think we’re gonna find her?”

“We don’t have any clues where to look. But I just have this feeling that she’s still here, somewhere.”

Sanji’s words made you feel a bit of relief. Knowing that someone else cared about finding her as much as you did.

You went to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. Laying your face against his shoulder, you breathed him in, the stale smoke and dirty clothes not hindering the comfort his scent gave you.

Nami’s voice broke your calm, yelling to Luffy about someone named ‘Iceberg.’

The mayor and shipwright had been shot in his home, and the city was on high alert. Luffy and Nami shared that they had met Iceberg the day before, and you gasped as Luffy launched himself off the roof to go check on him, with Nami racing to follow.

“On that note, let’s go find Robin,” Sanji said, before turning back to Zoro as he sat against the wall. “What about you?”

“I think I’ll just wait a while. See how things turn out.”

You stared at Zoro as he put his hands behind his head, getting comfortable.

He doesn’t give a fuck about Robin. Does he care about anything?

You hit the elevator button for your floor instead of the ground level.

“Wha-”

“I need to grab something.”

You left the room, heading back to meet them at the elevator before Sanji stepped in front of you.

“What are you doing, Angel? Are those armed?”

“Sanji, I need to be able to protect myself. I’m ready. And it’s not your decision.”

Sanji clenched his jaw as he looked at your tonfa, the purple and green giving the modified versions away. He kept staring, breathing heavily before shaking his head.

Sanji pulled at your wrist, and you followed him and Chopper out of the inn, and down into the streets.

You could have sworn you heard Sanji breathe, ‘fuck,’ as he lead you outside.

Desperation made you frantic, asking every person you saw if they’d seen a beautiful woman, describing her features, and pleading with them to help you.

“Angel, please don’t stray too far. I couldn’t stand to lose you too.”

But you couldn’t focus on Sanji’s words, his gentle touch on your shoulder. All you were was wide searching eyes, and a heart beating so fast it might leave your body.

Until clanging alarms blasted from every corner, blaring a warning that had every citizen rushing away.

“Attention please. This is the Water 7 Forecasting Center. An Aqua Laguna warning has been issued. Estimated arrival for midnight tonight.”

You spun, panting as you watched the area clear out. People were yelling to share the news, and you found your way back to Sanji as he asked someone for details.

“Aw, you’ve come sightseeing at a really bad time. It’s an annual storm, you all need to get to high ground before the city floods.”

Robin.

Luckily Sanji and Chopper echoed your rising concern, and you raced through the city.

Until you had to break, to breathe, hating your weak body. Sanji brushed the hair out of your face, sticky from sweat.

“What does she like, where would she go?”

You lip quivered as you tried to answer Chopper’s question.

“I guess I still don’t know her well enough, I have no idea where to look.”

Sanji kissed your clammy hands, rubbing them against the rising winds.

“Hey, uh..’

Chopper’s strained voice brought you to the moment.

“So this storm’s supposed to be really bad? What if… What if there was a tourist who didn’t know about it? Maybe they had a boat they wanted to take care of? It would be pretty bad, right?”

Usopp.

“That reminds me,” Sanji said with a cough. “Didn’t you say you forgot something on the Merry? A medical bag, right Chopper?”

With a breath, you followed them back to your old home.

The sight of the Merry brought heat up your throat, and you ached to climb onto the deck.

You’d run out of energy now, and fell into blankness as you watched Sanji and Chopper yell about the storm, pretending to be yelling at each other instead of Usopp.

“This is ridiculous, why can’t we ju-”

You heard steps moving through the ship, and the door started to swing open.

You tried to cry out his name, but Sanji picked you up, racing away with Chopper so you wouldn’t be seen by your one time crewmate.

You felt empty in his arms as slow tears stained your face.

The city looked barren when you made it back, most citizens gone for the shelter already. That made it easier for you to pick up on the few conversations still going on around you.

“I bet if we find one of the pirates with bounties, we can make them tell us who the other crewmates are.”

“Yeah, those straw hat pirates are gonna pay for what they did to Iceberg.”

You froze in your tracks, Chopper moving to stand beside you, still in his reindeer form as he searched for Robin’s scent.

Sanji interrupted that conversation, but your ears were ringing too much to follow.

“They’re saying Robin’s the assassin that tried to kill the mayor. They’re after all of us now.”

“N-No, she w-”

“Shh, angel,” Sanji whispered as he pulled you into a hug to quiet your outburst. “I know she didn’t. But we need to be careful, we’re all in danger now.”

“What about the others? Do you think they're okay?”

You turned to Chopper, heart heavy with the weight of all your loved ones safety.

“Let’s go find them.”

Chopper’s weak smile was cut short as he lifted his nose into the air. Hope ripped through you, almost painful after all the loss of the last two days.

Chopper tore through the streets, leaving you and Sanji scrambling to chase after him. Nearly falling down the stone stairs, you caught up to Chopper, Sanji’s hand reaching out to steady you.

“Chopper, wha-”

Chopper was at the edge of the canal, staring across to another street.

Staring at Robin.

She was standing right there, so close. You cried out her name, Sanji and Chopper echoing you.

Robin stood there, almost as still as when you watched her frozen form glinting in the sunlight.

Hope and relief had slammed into you, almost making your knees weak, but something in her eyes stopped your breath.

“Robin, I’m so glad you’re okay, we need to get out of here!”

Sanji looked around at your words, shouting over to her.

“Hold on, I’m going to look for a way around this canal, we’ll be right over there.”

“Don’t bother. Stay where you are.”

Robin’s voice was cool, the wind blowing her long black hair around her face, almost hypnotizing you.

“I won’t be returning to you or your crew. We’re parting ways here, in this city”

Your mind couldn’t make sense of it, your mouth hanging open while you reached out, useless hands shaking in the air between you.

Sanji was able to speak, and you just stared into her eyes while he pleaded with her.

“What are you talking about, Robin? Is this about the newspaper? None of us believe you did that, Robin, don’t worry!”

You felt your fists clenching, the pain of your nails starting to wake you to the moment as Robin went on.

“About that, I’m sorry for pinning such an unreasonable crime on all of you. But as far as my involvement, everything the newspapers say is true. Last night, I broke into the mayor’s place of residence and shot him.”

Sanji cigarette fell from his fingers, and you felt your head shaking back and forth, your mouth too dry to speak, Not that you could have found words anyway.

“No way,” Chopper breathed, his legs quivering beneath him.

She held the three of you in a trance as she kept sending out words like knives.

“Inside me, I carry a darkness that none of you know about. One day, that darkness will be the end of all of you.”

Memories of Robin’s pain filled eyes, the look she rarely let you see, flooded your mind. You’d always known Robin had secrets, but you couldn’t think of anything dark enough that you wouldn’t want her to stay with you.

“I’m afraid you’ll be taking the fall for last night’s attack while I escape. And let me warn you, the situation will only get worse.”

“What do you mean? Why are you-” Sanji broke in, his desperate yell bringing heat to your throat.

Both Sanji and Chopper started pleading with her now, but all you could do was whisper her name, begging her with your eyes as you swayed on your feet.

“From this day forward, we will never see each other again. Thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me. I’ll never forget it. Goodbye.”

Robin turned, and the three of you were frozen as you heard her heels echoing on the stone as she walked away from you.

Finally, your body woke enough to let you say the words you’d been holding in for some time. They came out of you in a desperate yell, seeming to tear you apart as they left your throat.

“I love you, Robin! Please, don’t leave me!”

Robin’s steps didn’t even slow and you sank to your knees, hardly noticing the pain as you fell.

Part of you could hear Chopper and Sanji screaming beside you, and then you gasped as Sanji dove into the canal.

The water was choppy with the storm coming, and fear for him shook you out of your dissociation. You stood, determination filling your veins now as you pulled out your purple tonfa.

“Blackout Dart,” you shouted, putting your lips to the short end of the weapon, aiming your first poison dart at the woman you loved.

You had seconds to see that your aim was true. It was going to hit her back, and she’d be knocked unconscious.

You had less than a second to feel hope before an arm appeared on her shoulder to bat the dart away.

She didn’t even turn to look at you.

Then she was gone.

Twisting and squeezing the fabric to get out as much water as you could, you handed Sanji his shirt as he did what he would with his jacket. The wind and water was getting more intense, but you could barely feel a thing, your body and mind still numb.

“Chopper, Angel, go meet up with Luffy and the others. Tell them everything that happened between us and Robin. Don’t leave out a single word. As for me, I have a plan. I’ll be careful. We’ll meet up later.”

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips, but you pulled it away.

“No. Chopper, you go. I’m staying.”

“No, Angel-”

“Sanji, we keep losing people. I’m not letting you go without me.”

Chopper looked back and forth between you, then nodded.

“Be careful,” he demanded, before charging away without you.

Sanji leaned his head back, taking a long drag off his cigarette.

“Robin said she’s escaping while we take the fall. There’s only one way off this island tonight. We’re going to get her back.”

You wished you smoked just so you’d have something to calm your nerves. The two of you were hiding in the shadows between buildings as you watched the government officials talk to Robin at the train station.

She was wearing a huge green shawl and hood, but you saw her face lit under the lanterns, and you’d recognize her graceful steps anywhere.

After she was led inside, you saw a group the marines called ‘CP9.’ You felt a sickly chill crawl up your skin at the sight of the four of them.

There was an attractive blonde woman, a man with long black hair and a top hat, a man in a baseball cap with a noticeably large nose even from a distance, and another man that was huge, towering over them.

That man had two squirming figures tied up over his shoulders. They were both yelling to be released, one large with blue hair, and the other was Usopp.

Usopp!

You grabbed onto Sanji’s arm, and he gave a small nod as he kept his eyes trained on the sniper.

“Come on.”

“What if someone else finds it?”

“They won’t be able to track us, but if there’s a chance Nami or the other finds this, it’s worth it.”

Sanji tucked his note under the transponder snail on the ground at the station.

You had made your way closer to the back of the train, away from where the military were filing in. Now all you had to do was wait.

Waiting was the worst fucking thing you could be doing right now.

Gripping Sanji’s knee as you sat on a bench in the darkest corner you could find, you started to fall apart.

“Shh, Angel, we know where she is, and we’re going to get her back. I promise you.”

He was running his palm in circles on your back, and you heard the note of fear in his voice.

“S-Sanji, she…”

Your sobs were quiet, but overwhelming you, almost hiccuping as you fought to breathe through it. He pulled you in against his chest rocking you as he whispered in your ear.

“Please, my love, I can’t stand to see you hurting. I promise, we will do everything we can for Robin. And for Usopp. You have my word.”

His words didn’t break through, and you felt yourself starting to have hysterics. Your mind was screaming at you to fucking stop, knowing that at any moment you would need to be ready.

Sanji pulled back, cupping your cheeks as he searched your face.

“Darling, please trust me. Your tears are… Please, we have time. Let me touch you, let me make you feel better. So you can breathe with me?”

You realized at the crack in his voice that Sanji needed comfort too. That his making you feel good would help him right now. His eyes were pleading as his fingers stroked your hair. You swallowed the hot tears that were starting to form.

Nodding, you felt his lips against yours, and you combed your fingers through his hair, sobbing at the relief of his comforting heat.

“Please darling, can you be quiet for me? Can you let me touch you, I’ll take good care of you angel, I’m here for you.”

His voice held a hint of panic, anxiety bubbling as his hands rubbed along the sides of your body.

“Yes, Sanji. I know you’re here. I love you, I know you’ll always take care of me.”

“I love you, Y/N, my angel.”

Sanji pulled you onto his lap until your back was against his chest.

The wind sent a spray of seawater to mist along your skin as Sanji’s lips found your neck.

Your mind tried to hold all the pain and worry of your time on this cursed island, but you gave into Sanji’s touch, letting him bring you back to the moment, back to your body.

He kept his lips and tongue along your neck and shoulder as his hands trailed over your clothed body.

“My perfect angel, I’ve got you. Breathe with me sweetheart.”

Focusing on his breath, feeling his chest rise and fall against your back, you started to follow him.

“Sanji…”

“I’m here, mon coeur. I’ll always be here.”

Waves started lapping against the stone, the storm coming to caress your body as Sanji’s nimble fingers dipped into your pants. Your lover found your clit in the dark effortlessly, his touch had traveled your skin endless times when all was well in your world.

Now you clung to each other, fear riding you both as you tried to grasp onto some of the peace your lives still held.

Peace in each other when everything else felt lost.

“I love you, my heart, my treasure, my angel. I’ll protect you, I’ll take care of you. Are you feeling better?”

The concern in his question felt out of place for the way his fingers were making you dance in his lap.

“Yes, Sanji. You make me feel so good,” you moaned as Sanji’s tongue traced up your neck, his nose dragging along your skin as if he wanted to drown in your scent.

The tingling pressure built in you, his fingers manipulating you so easily, even in the chaos around you.

The hard length of him under your ass had you gasping, desperate to feel him inside of you, to lose yourself in him.

We don’t have time for that.

That thought almost killed your momentum, but Sanji rasped more praise against your skin before gently biting the lobe of your ear, and you were over the edge.

“You're doing so well for me, Angel. So perfect for me.”

Chewing on your lip to hold in your moans, you lifted your hand over your head to reach back, and hold onto his hair as you twitched in his lap.

The sound of the train starting up jolted you off his lap, before you’d come down from your high.

Sanji wiped your pleasure from his hand, staining his still damp jacket before reaching for you.

Voices of the train station employees called after you as you ran full speed toward the still slow train, but you left them in the dust.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you yelled, focusing on the railing as your target sped up.

Without a thought, you leapt over the crashing waves, reaching for the train.

Reaching for Robin.

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Part 22

A/N: Welp, I hope you enjoyed the pain! I'm having so much fun, this is my favorite arc and I love adding MORE drama to it, lol

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#angst #sanji x reader #nico robin x fem!reader #zoro x reader #sanji smut #One Piece smut #f/f fanfic #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #nico robin x reader #poly fanfic #nico robin fanfic #sanji fanfic #one piece fanfic #zoro fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics

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hauntedpearl · 16 days

Text

pyromaniac dean au always on my damn mind bc i saw this post by @autisticandroids and my brain went hmmm what if Lisa and Ben were in the pyromaniac au. and like yes okay technically i thought we were doing like a s1 thing but also this is an au so who cares no rules.

anyway. what if in between John dying and Jess murder there was like this small period of time when dean did kind of stop setting people and things on fire, but like it didn't stick and also Lisa and Ben were involved probably possibly. like v close to canon parallel. i am still thinking about why he would stop the arson, even temporarily. but I think he should. I think cas should also have started stalking him at this point!!! this is p much fully reassembling the fic events but also MMM IT'S GETTING MORE FUN I THINK!

thinking out loud again. and like with Ben it was a) dean going insane about protecting ben from hunting to the point that he is john-like with him for the opposite reasons — normal parental overcorrection in people I think tbh w you. and b) he did inadvertently cause whatever harm befell those two and then he had to, like, functionally murder them and then he just kept going like that.

w my arsonist dean, it really is just all about control and trying to ground yourself in some version of reality when you're coming unmoored. he has an obsession with fire from a young age and sets controlled fires bc he's fucked up about fire and what not having control over it can do. he becomes a firefighter bc in his head that is also a way to control it. he starts committing crimes when his father dies bc that is a trauma that kind of sends him reeling ala empty spaces dean and like doing this thing where he's orchestrating the lives of these people is doing sth to him I think. he's projecting on everyone and he's saving himself but it's like never enough.

so the only reason he would have to stop arson would be if he was able to, like, exercise that control over his life in some way. a stable relationship dynamic is good, a ritual is good, a kind of mindless droning on of life where everything is exactly as he expects it to be is good, it's grounding. I think ultimately it doesn't work bc it's not good for the other people in the situation. like!!! obviously!!! also it's just not sustainable. it's impossible to truly control every aspect of your life and dean cannot handle the slightest bit of deviation from his Plan™. like so I think the break can be slow bc he starts freaking out over small things like someone not turning off a light or not locking a door or something like that. but it's all a v mild reaction all things considered and within the realm of acceptable. but also I think Lisa is On Edge bc she's not an idiot.

thinking about what would push dean over the edge when he's in this domestic farce of a situation. like I thought about maybe ben getting into his office or something — places, things, he's designated as Personal and like Don't Fucking Touch It. and it's like bc he's in such a precarious state of mind, he's like twigs and duct tape yk? so perhaps he blows up at the kid. and it's like literally nothing. it could just be a really cool looking zeppo or whatever that's on his desk and Ben takes it bc he just wants to show off to his friends or sneak out and smoke a cigarette like a normal 12 y/o. anyway he blows up at the kid and maybe Lisa is like nope. get out. that's it. line crossed.

or maybe he does have a come to Jesus moment almost immediately and they Talk About It as a family and he's like trying to make amends or whatever. either way. glass is cracked now.

idk how but I think it would be fun if there was another fire now in this house (lolololol IM SORRY i just think everything dean touches should be on fire bc of him I think the universe can affirm that to him over and over let him hurt everyone he loves and then go crazy like!!!) and like smoke inhalation CAN cause a coma!! (well like it's cyanide and/or CO poisoning technically but yk.) so maybe ben does go into a coma. maybe dean and lisa look at each other and Lisa like lowkey knows he's doing fucked up shit but she's also like I am not killing myself and my son over this get out like i don't wanna see you I don't wanna hear from you go get your head on straight somewhere and if you think you can handle being normal then maybe we can talk but no get out.

and dean leaves bc he also senses that she senses that sth is v wrong with him and about him, and he realises that he's really just gotta find some way to fix his fucking life and he tries to change so he tries to go find sam and then he kills Jess (still not sure if the fire is on purpose or an accident!) and becomes full crazy i think.

ps: just like as a random possible addition to this already convoluted au, cas being the one to somehow laterally be involved in causing the fire and also the rescue w lisa ben (for canon parallels also bc i just think he's so funny in this fic like why isnhe doing this??? no reason he's just a freak and he's obsessed.)

pps: honestly in the state that he is!!! jess' fire can fully not be his fault, but he still is around and Fails To Save Her and sam could just end up putting the pieces together for other stuff and he connects the right dots but like his main dot is not connected to all that!! but bc he's also obsessive and crazy he's like IM GONNA KILL YOUUU

anyway. ANYWAYY.

#pyromaniac dean au #random additions #lisa & ben things #spn posting #b you are so smart you are always making my brain go brrr but like i don't know where it goes lmao so sorry if this is nonsense #ALSO GENERALLY. DON'T @ ME I KNOW THIS AU IS GETTING NUTS #but realistically im never gonna write it so it's just gonna get weird additions that spiral from now on!

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sickmachete · 11 months

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HEY !! HERE ARE SOME RANDOM FIRE SAFETY TIPS !!

AVOID HILLS. seriously. the radiant heat coming off the flames pre-heats nearby grasses/fuels located above (heat rises!) which is what cause fires to "run" up hills lighting up long strips in the blink of an eye. you cannot outrun a fire that's chasing you up hill.

EVEN IF you are standing below the fire all it takes is one stray ember blown in the wind to start a fire below YOU and then you're really screwed. if you're caught on a hill, run to the side and (if possible) try to get to any charred/burnt zones behind the fire.

charred/already burnt black areas are safe zones. they will not easily re-burn and can become refuges to retreat to (but still be mindful of smoke inhalation).

healthy green grass lawns can also be temporary safe zones. the moisture held in lush grass makes it a lot more difficult to catch fire and can work as a temporary refuge in the case of a house fire. however, TO BE CLEAR: this does NOT apply to tall forest meadow-type grasses. when i say healthy grass im talkin like suburban manicured lawns okay? if your lawn is looking crusty dry brown then thats not gonna be a good place to run to.

most mild carbon monoxide poisoning (aka smoke inhalation) can be cured by simply taking in fresh air. severe smoke inhalation may require further medical treatment though.

fire needs FUEL + OXYGEN + HEAT in order to burn. if you removed ANY of these 3 things, the fire will go out. this is known as the fire triangle. the reason why water works against fire is mainly because it's cold, however it also helps by "drowning" the fire, depriving it of oxygen.

on this note!! if you're cooking and your food catches on fire inside the pan, DO NOT! pour water onto it!!!! that will only make it splash. what you're gonna wanna do is grab a pot/pan lid and gently slide it onto the pan. this will cut off its oxygen and put the fire out. DO NOT! slam the lid onto the pan!! this rush of wind/air could blow the fire right out of the pan and directly onto you/nearby furniture!

CHECK YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHERS!!! please!! not all fire extinguishers are meant to be used on the same fire!!! while it can vary (and you should definitely look up the ratings for your own location/extinguishers) many of them will have specific class ratings written along the label. here in the USA, those ratings are in letter form (ie: Class A, Class B, Class C, Class D, and Class K). sometimes these ratings are combined (ie: Class ABC), meaning that a Class ABC fire extinguisher can be used on a Class A, B, or C fire.

FIRE EXTINGUISHERS AND THEIR ASSIGNED FIRES

CLASS A: these extinguishers should be used on wood/paper/plastic (ie: your basic trash fire).

CLASS B: these extinguishers should be used on flammable liquids (ie: alcohol, gas, petroleum, greasing oils <- not food oils though!!).

CLASS C: these extinguishers should be used on electrical fires (ie: sparking cables, your computer spontaneously combusted and is on fire, etc).

CLASS D: these extinguishers should be used on combustible metals (ie: magnesium, titanium, potassium, sodium, etc. if that metal shit in your garage is burning, use Class D).

CLASS K: these extinguishers should be used on flammable cooking oils/greases (ie: your stove is on fire, your barbecue's on fire, etc).

CLASS ABC: these extinguishers can be used on any of the Class A, B, or C material fires.

DO NOT USE THE WRONG EXTINGUISHER. they are labeled differently for a reason!!! a Class ABC extinguisher (for example) will make a Class K fire splash! you will cause that big old greasy fire to splash right back onto you!! Class K extinguishers are specifically designed to safely put out fires without disturbing the liquids/oils so please please please check the labels of your extinguishers.

AND REMEMBER TO "PASS" !!!

HOW TO USE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER — P.A.S.S.

PULL the pin in the handle.

AIM the nozzle at the base of the fire.

SQUEEZE the lever slowly.

SWEEP (across the base of the fire) from side to side.

#so uh hi! i am literally getting a degree in Fire Science at my college so i have a ton of random info in this noggin #and i have so much more info on actual house fires specifically but this was already getting all over the place so SJHDGF #and ik this is a lot of me shouting and doesnt go into practical use for the smoke issue happening right now BUT #just in case anyone didnt know some of this stuff who knows!!! maybe itll come in handy :-)#txt #fire safety #even if just one person reads this and learns smth they didnt know itll be worth it ♥️#but yeah sorry i have adhd this is probably incoherent as hell SHDGFGDHSJA

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chvnnie · 1 year

Text

Ceilings

hwang hyunjin x reader

word count: 4.8k

genre: angsty smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: non-modern au (1940 movie star!hyunjin), smoking (cigarettes), forbidden love, dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, infidelity, mentions of drugs and alcohol, hyunjin gets his feelings hurt, oral (f receiving), gentle dirty talk, breath play, unprotected sex (no don't even think about it), creampie, i thiiiink that's all! if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: it's lonely being famous

a/n: do not ask me how many times i listened to ceilings while writing this (hence the title), you don't want to know. post concert depression has hit her HARD. also not me coming up with this idea during muddy water i'm-

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents hwang hyunjin as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @humayraaaaa, @americanokisses, @djeniryuu - comment/send ask to be added

Though it’s only an hour or so past midnight, there’s a tinge of purple in the dark sky. Stars freckle the light color, illuminating the tiny balcony where the movie star stands. A cigarette hangs from his lips as he finally gets a match to strike. Cupping the flame to avoid losing it (again), he brings it to the end.

The taste of tobacco hits his tongue, threatening to overpower the lingering flavors of you. He’s careful to savor it, not wanting it to slip from him. Greedy would be a good word to describe him; even if it would only take roughly thirty steps to get his fill, missing it even a bit would be a tragic loss.

Head rolled back, he lets his eyes shut as he exhales the smoke into the November night. A rumble fills the space around him, thunder warning him that his time is limited. It won’t be long until the few raindrops that he’s felt become more powerful. Falling in heavy waves, filling the alley below his townhome with a mild flood.

He’s in no rush. Nothing compares to a cigarette with a hint of you.

The glass doors open with a creak, warmth spilling from the inside. “Are you not cold?”

Hyunjin smiles to himself before turning to face you. His white dress shirt is baggier on you than it is him, the scent of his cologne rolling off it. Your hair is a bit messy, disheveled from the silk sheets. Makeup is smeared under your tired eyes in a way that he thinks is charming.

“I thought you were sleeping.” He responds before taking another long drag.

“I was.” With your thumb and pointer finger, you take the cigarette from him and bring it to your own lips. “It’s hard when the bed is empty.”

There’s no way to stop the chuckle that leaves his lips. “I’m sorry, love. I just assumed you were used to it.”

The joke is in poor taste, and frankly he wouldn’t blame you if you put the cigarette out on his face. Instead you give a dry laugh, rolling your eyes as you inhale the sweetly poisonous smoke. “Doesn’t mean I like it.”

His motions are gentle. Cupping your face, using his thumbs to both brush your hair back and stroke the apples of your cheeks. Your pretty eyes blink up at him, stars reflecting in their depths. Out of all the wonders he experiences, you are his favorite.

“I just wanted a smoke.” Hyunjin says in a low whisper. “I promise to be back soon.” It’s locked in with a kiss to each cheek, and one between your eyebrows.

Something he’s learned from living in the public eye is that a lot of things are fleeting. Words are empty, nobody really trusts anybody for all the right reasons. Everybody wants something from him, all for their own benefit.

But not you. You’re the most honest thing in his life.

Taking a step out of his hold, you give a warm smile. “You better, or I’ll push you off this balcony.”

“As is your right, love.”

And then you’re gone, the ghost of your perfume left to surround him when the doors shut. The wind steals it from him too soon, the loneliness that remains all consuming. What’s the point of this life if without you, everything is worthless?

Hyunjin smokes the cigarette down to the end, stubbing it out on the metal railing. The bud falls over the edge, landing in the tiny puddle the rain has made.

His shirt is crumpled on the floor again. On the bed, you lay bare on your stomach, facing away from the balcony door. The sheets sit on your hips, entire back lit by the few remaining candles. Flames dance as Hyunjin walks past them, slowly stripping himself of the robe he only put on to step outside in. The last thing the papers need are pictures of his form decorating them.

The bed shifts under his weight, knees on the mattress as he moves to lay behind you. Resting on his left arm, Hyunjin carefully brushes your hair off your shoulders. Giving him space to pepper kisses across your warm skin.

“I know you’re awake.” He whispers near your ear, delighted when he’s rewarded with a sea of goosebumps. “Pay attention to me, darling.”

Carefully, you turn your head to face him. “I told you I can’t sleep in an empty bed.”

The city whispers rumors of his lover. A faceless woman some claim to have seen in passing — sneaking into his car late at night, glances of her stealing cigarettes from the star behind his trailer.

Hyunjin rests his head on your pillow, hooking his arm around your waist. “I’m here. Why don’t you sleep now?”

It’s almost like she’s a ghost. Even he denies her existence; laughing off the accusations even when it comes from his closest friends. How cliche of a thought; the movie star with a normal lover, one who seems to blend in with every crowd.

You shift in the bed, letting your legs tangle with his. Fingers softly stroke his cheek, pushing the dark strands out of his eyes. “Because you’re here.”

But you’re not normal. If those who speak of you knew of you, everything he’s worked so hard for would be ripped from his hands-

The taste of you greets him once again, tongues dancing to a rhythm only the two of you can hear. With great care, you cup his face. Letting your bodies become one as you inhale him like a warm cigarette on a cold autumn’s night.

-and you truly would become a ghost to him.

With great care, Hyunjin uses his hold on you to roll you onto your back. It would be a tragedy to break a kiss this heated, lips locked in as he climbs atop you. Your legs spread, welcoming him into your space once again.

Fingers tangle in his dark locks, tugging with every nip on your lip. His large hand splays across your left hip, firmly pressing with his palm to keep you pinned to the bed. When his thumb strokes just above your mound, he feels the goosebumps rise under his touch.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He whispers into the kiss, your whimpers making his lips vibrate.

“Always.”

His hand dips lower, fingertips stroking your inner thigh. So close to your heat, he’s practically aflame.

“Say it.”

In a life full of luxuries, anything he wants within reach, there’s only one thing he’ll ask for. Every single time, needing it more than the breath in his lungs.

You break the kiss, making sure to meet your eyes as you give him a smile the sun is jealous of. “I’m yours, Hyunjin. Everywhere. All the time.”

With that, his hand creeps down your leg until it finds your knee. Hiking it up as Hyunjin slides down the bed, taking only a moment to breathe before kissing down your thighs. He adjusts the other leg, making sure both feet rest on his shoulders before completely losing himself.

The taste of you is sweet. Painstakingly careful, he draws a line from your clit to your entrance, making sure to savor every drop of you. Nothing quite compares to this; the soft noises you make when his tongue circles your hole, the twitching of your toes on his shoulder blades.

What a shame it would be to waste something as delectable as you.

As he groans, his hands wrap around your ankles. Keeping you from squirming out of his grasp. “Fuck, I love this cunt.” He pulls back just to spit directly on your clit, huffing a laugh when your hips roll in response. “You're dripping all over my bed, sweetheart.”

God, he’s in love with you. The way you roll your head, the hands cupping your breasts. Gently, your thumbs press down on your nipples, mimicking the motion in which Hyunjin always touches you. Firm, fast, light. Enough to make your hole flutter around nothing.

“Sorry.” You exhale a shaky breath that quickly turns into a moan when he starts drawing hearts with his tongue. “Can’t help m-myself.”

“Of course you can’t.” He mocks, applying a bit more pressure with his licks. From the way you start to twitch, knees touching above your head, it’s obvious how close you are. Overstimulated from the unwavering attention he gave you earlier this evening.

You cry out his name in the most beautifully desperate way, back arching as your nails start to dig into your soft skin. Unspoken pleas and warnings; he needs to let you cum. You need him.

“Again.” Hyunjin commands. “Louder.”

Over and over, his name is shouted. Even as your voice begins to crack, the intensity of your orgasm almost too much for your body to handle, you don’t stop screaming.

Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.

Rolling off your tongue like it’s meant to be.

///

There’s a ray of sunlight where your body should be. It bleeds in from the velvet curtains, illuminating the emptiness of the star’s bed. Mindlessly, he traces the sheets, up and down and up and down. Wishing the warmth was coming from your skin and not the silk.

Hyunjin knew you would be gone in the morning. You always are; before the moon even fully disappears. Despite his begs, the dire need to wake up next to you, this is the way it has to be. To protect not only his reputation, but yourself.

Every time you leave, he can’t help but wonder if it was a dream. Were you ever really here? Or just a figment of his imagination — the results of a high that leaves him feeling numb.

But then he gets up. There’s the crumpled shirt, the smell of cigarettes and your rose perfume clinging to the fabric. In the bathroom, there are tissues. Stained with lipstick and eyeliner. The towel you used, your hair on his brush. Little reminders that you were here. Real. His, even if only for a brief moment.

And his heart crumbles all over again, crying as the shower starts to turn cold. When you sneak out his backdoor, you’re no longer his. Lost to a world that doesn’t deserve you, a home that doesn’t love you in all the ways he does.

Out of his grasp. A memory, nothing more.

He stands under the water until his skin is numb, eyes burning from the stream of tears that don’t seem to have an end. The morning is a blur; he isn’t sure when he washed his face, or brushed his teeth. He doesn’t remember picking up the shirt you wore just hours later, putting it on to be surrounded by you yet again. How long has he been sitting in traffic?

Does it matter?

Dark shades protect his eyes as he walks through the lot. The gazes of staff, costars, and the production team are heavy on him. Conspiracies whispered among them; is he high again? Maybe drunk? Both?

If only they knew how sober he actually was.

The trailer door slams loud enough to startle his friend, jumping a bit in his seat and making him drop the book in his hand. Sighing, the blonde runs his fingers through his hair. “Jin, you made me lose my spot.”

He pushes his sunglasses up, rubbing his eyes with the heels on his palms. After months in this trailer, he can navigate it with ease, finding his chair without even opening his eyes. “Sorry, Lix.”

With a sigh, the younger man flips through the book, so worn out it’s practically falling apart his hands. “You’re late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Felix hums as he finds his place, folding the corner so he doesn’t lose it again. “Is that why you reek of perfume?”

Hyunjin can’t even find it in himself to entertain his jab, nose twitching as he wills himself to keep composure. It’s not like he’s worried about crying in front of his friend, but what his team will think when they walk in. The inconsolable lead actor, hardly able to take a breath. The glass shards of his heart surrounding him, turning to dust over a woman who isn’t even his.

“It’s getting harder and harder to cover for you.” Felix says as he throws a robe at him, a silent gesture to start getting changed. “Nobody is happy about you running late so frequently.”

Shaky fingers work on his shirt buttons, praying that your scent lingers on his skin. It keeps him sane. “Yeah, well without me there’s no movie.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to show up well past your call time.” Felix waits for his friend to put on the robe, plopping back down in the chair as he reaches for the straightener. “There were so many people looking for you today. I fucking lost count of who came in and out. The director even sent his wife-“

Everything that comes after that is lost, Hyunjin’s body turning cold as he starts to get dizzy. His mind tumbles with questions. When? For how long? Why?

If he spent less time in the shower, would he have been here when you came looking for him?

“-and I’m running out of excuses. If you want to keep this job-“

“I’ll apologize.” Hyunjin says firmly, taking slow breaths to try and steady his heart rate. “And get my shit together.”

He can’t tell if the apology is genuine, or to get his friend to quiet down so he can think. Frankly, he doesn’t care. You were here, looking for him — and he knows it’s not because you were told to. Risking exposing the little secret you two have been so careful about keeping.

The first time he kissed you, it was raining. The clouds were so dark, day could easily be mistaken for night. Your lips were like clouds, so soft and easy to fall into. Hyunjin cupped your face, feeling your cheeks squish between his fingers. When your lips touched his, he knew it was over for him. Though he swore he wouldn’t fall in love with you, he was doomed from the beginning.

When those three words were whispered to him, Hyunjin knew for certain. You were meant to be his, he yours. Nothing was right until you.

The speed in which he readies himself is impressive, out the trailer before an assistant can even time check him. You’re sitting by your husband when he walks on set, looking over the man’s shoulders as your eyes follow his movement. He only counts to four before you excuse yourself, making a beeline to the catering table.

Acting like he doesn’t even notice you, Hyunjin stops beside you. Pretending to consider the pastry options.

“I came for you.” Your voice is but a whisper, almost lost in the chatter of the set. “Only Felix was in your trailer.”

“I missed you, too.” He’s smooth with his words, finally picking up a chocolate croissant. “If I knew you were planning on being here, I would’ve got here on time.”

The sigh you give is cute. Hyunjin can’t help the smile it brings him. “I wasn’t. I’m only here because he asked.”

No context is needed. The star can feel the director’s eyes burning holes into his back. “What a good wife you are.”

The two of you don’t exchange eye contact, dancing around the table as if you’re only there to grab a snack.

“He noticed I was gone.” You say as you fill a styrofoam cup with hot water.

“Hm, for once? How kind of him to not be distracted by a model this time.”

The laugh you give is dry. “At least I have the decency to hide my affair.” Oh. Ouch. There’s an ache in his chest that stings more than he could even imagine — that can’t be all you are to him, can it? “Meet me in your trailer after your scene?”

Hyunjin simply nods before bringing his cup of coffee to his lips. “You look cute in that dress.”

How many times does he have to watch you walk away? Giving your husband the most obnoxious fake smile as you hand him his tea, accepting a kiss to your cheek as a thank you.

Maybe Hyunjin doesn’t want this croissant.

Seconds feel like hours, the actor finding it hard to focus on the scene. His head keeps spinning, you in the center of it. Unwanted thoughts keep plaguing his mind; maybe you are just an illusion, the love he thought you shared nothing but a fantasy. He loves you so much that it physically hurts, the hole in his chest when you’re away like pure torture.

When he can steal glances at you, he does. Always focused on him, even if you’re tucked into your husband’s side. Almost as if you’re taunting him — look what you can never be.

Claws dig into his brain, gashing it open in slow swipes. With each gaping wound comes a blood curdling screams that only he can hear. It’s loud in his mind, reality out of his grasp as the painful emotions begin to swallow him whole. With all eyes on him.

The clapperboard barely cuts through the noise, announcing the end of his scene. Before the director can even dismiss him, Hyunjin is walking out the door. It doesn’t matter that people are staring, whispering about the little scene he’s caused by storming off.

He just needs out. He needs you.

Once he steps in the trailer, the costume is torn off him, the buttons ripping as he shreds it from his body. There’s little care for it — spending another second in those clothes means pretending he’s someone he’s not. And he can’t deny himself any longer.

His back is turned to the door when you open it quietly, clicking the lock the second it’s shut. “Hyunjin, that was—“

Slowly, he turns to face you. The emotion on his face is raw; eyes red with tears, face twisted in pain. When you meet his eyes, you stop cold. Frozen by the makeup table.

“Do you love me?”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about? Of course I do—“

“Do you love me?” He repeats the question in a broken voice, taking slow steps towards you. Fear starts to blossom in your wide eyes, backing up as he gets closer to you. It’s only when you hit the table that you stop, allowing him to close in on you. “Or are you using me?”

The shock in your expression is earnest, incapable of believing what’s coming from your lover’s mouth. “Why would you think that?”

“At least I have the decency to hide my affair.” He repeats your words from earlier, hands slamming on the table by your sides. There’s nowhere for you to run; you’re caged in.

“Hyunjin.” Your voice is dripping in hurt. “I love you—“

“Answer the fucking question!” He’s careful not to shout at you, but still raises his voice. Needing you to understand the severity of this.

He hates the way you’re looking at him. Lip wobbling, tears running down your cheeks. Never did he dream of making you feel like this, of being the cause of your pain. It’s like someone is ripping his heart out and stomping on it — but he has to know, so he can tear himself out of this existence.

“Yes.” You exhale shakily, hiccups building in your throat. “Fuck, Hyunjin, I love you more than anything.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Leave him, and stay with me.” It’s Hyunjin’s turn to cry, sniffling as the pain releases down his flushed cheeks. All the bottled up thoughts, the words he’s never said — it all begins to spill, falling like the rain that hit his window as he made love to you last night.

“B-but, your career. You’ve worked so hard—“

“And none of it matters it if you’re not here.” A shaky hand cups your face, gently brushing the tears away. “If I have to wake up without you one more time, I fear I won’t survive.”

It’s always been obvious that he’s in love with you, but never has he bared his soul quite like this. All of it, no longer buried inside him. No longer protected. Yours to cherish, yours to break. Every ounce of him has always been yours.

He can hear the wheels turn in your head. All of the options carefully weighed as you scan his face. The longer your silence continues, the more his fear grows. Crawling up his body like a poison ivy, every inch of his skin on fire as the chance of losing you increases.

You sigh before breaking eye contact, and it’s over. He can feel it — all a dream, never a reality. The ghost of you is haunting him already.

“Why do I keep leaving you to wake alone-“ You grab his free hand with both of yours, cupping it as if it was made of glass. “-when I dread it just as much myself?

His sight follows yours, catching one last look at the ring on your finger before it falls to the floor. The love and home you built with a man that wasn’t him gone with a light thud.

For once, in the entirety of the time he’s known him, you’re finally all his.

In unison, you both look up. Meeting each other’s gaze once more; only this time, there’s no pain. No anger, no confusion. In that space is a love nobody in this eternity ever has, or ever will experience.

You are better than anything he could dream. Than any writer could ever create. Even the stars are jealous of the wonder you hold.

And you’re all his.

When he kisses you, it’s better than any you’ve ever shared before. There’s no barrier, nothing that’s going to take you from him after you lay together. It’s like experiencing you for the first time all over again, and he’ll be damned to take it for granted.

Grabbing your hips, he lifts you up just a bit to put you on the makeup table. Once sat, your legs hook around his waist, pushing your bodies so close together that they threaten to become one. Your head tilts back, allowing Hyunjin to deepen the kiss. It’s sloppier than usual, the excitement too hard to contain. He smiles into the kiss, eagerly letting his tongue tangle with yours.

The trailer is scolding hot on this cool November afternoon, the windows steaming from your combined body heat. As the kiss moves to your jaw, your nails dig into his back, slowly raking down until your fingers brush the waistband of his boxers.

Hyunjin considers himself to be a respectful, honorable man. Even though he’s sleeping with another man’s wife, he’s always been careful not to leave marks. He has some respect; or at least, he used to. Now he’s nipping at your jaw, not caring about the bruises he leaves.

“Tell me, darling.” His voice has dropped an octave, low and almost chilling. “How often did you let him touch you after I did?”

You shake your head, gasping when you feel his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. “N-never. It's only ever been you.”

He can’t even fathom how any man could share a bed with you and not want to worship every inch of you. What an absolute joke of a husband — but at least he was kind enough to save you for Hyunjin.

His fingers hook onto your silk panties, tugging them off with a strength that pulls you to the edge of the table. “Good. I don’t like to share.”

It’s very likely that he is biased, but Hyunjin thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. The way your soft lips part in surprise every time his hand wraps around your throat, the insatiable desire burning deep in your eyes — oh, he’ll never tire of making you react like this.

Your panties fall to the ground, landing close by the abandoned wedding ring. The grip he has on you is intense; palm pressing hard enough to make your lips tingle, little whimpers leaving them as you push his boxers down. His cock catches on the waistband, springing up when fully released and hitting his lower abs.

Are you already drooling? How precious.

Hyunjin collects your spit with his thumb, shoving it back into your mouth. “Don’t be so messy, love.”

An apology vibrates against his thumb, only to be cut short by a low moan when the head of his cock starts to tease your folds. There’s something about his touch that drives you wild, a feral force driving you to start shaking as you buck your hips.

He takes the thumb out of your mouth, letting the pretty sounds fill the trailer. All it takes is a raise of his brows for you to start begging, damn near incoherent.

“Please, Jinnie.” You whine. “I n-need you.”

“And I, you.”

It only takes one fluid thrust to fill you to the brim; the width of his cock gives you a delightfully painful stretch. As you cry in pleasure, he playfully chuckles, bucking in even though there’s no more space. Just so you can feel all of him.

“Just like that.” Hyunjin says, capturing your lips for a quick kiss. “Make all those pretty noises for me, love.”

And with that, he pulls back until just the tip is inside you. Your cunt flutters around him, so eager for him even after a small taste. The strength in which he slams into you makes the table shake, the trailer creaking from the movement.

Hyunjin has fucked you in here a number of times, always making sure to be as inconspicuous as possible. Not wanting to give more fuel for the rumors.

Now, he’s pouring the gas over it, and will even light the flame himself.

The rhythm he picks is rough; squeezing your neck tighter with each brutal movement. He’s sure you leave bruises all over you. Neck, hips, legs. All reminders that he’s the only person for you.

A delightful scream, followed by a precious giggle, alerts Hyunjin of your soft spot. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, clinging to his sweaty body as he makes a point of hitting it again.

“H-hyunjin.” You pant, barely able to form words. “Good, good-“

“Oh?” He snakes a hand between your bodies, only barely touching your clit. Just the featherlight touch makes you twitch. “You’re so sensitive, baby. Were you that hungry for my cock?”

He doesn’t have to look at you to know the expression you’re wearing — eyes shut, drool rolling down your chin. Fucked dumb so easily, it’s almost comical. Deciding that words are too hard, you nod as your moans increase in volume.

God, Hyunjin loves you so fucking much.

It doesn’t take much more for you to start to cry, the orgasm building faster than he can fuck you. Grabbing the nape of your neck, he pulls your head up despite your protest.

“Where?” He asks through shaky breaths, his own stomach starting to twitch.

Your eyes slowly flutter open, staring at him with empty doe as you lock your legs shut. And clench.

It was your one rule. You can fuck, you can fall in love, but Hyunjin cannot cum in you. It was the one boundary you set, and he was nothing but respectful of your wishes.

So to know that this is now what you want, making it almost impossible for him to pull out—

“Fuck, kiss me.” He growls, slamming your lips against his own. The second you cum around his cock, he releases into you, finally making you his own.

Limply you cling to him, whining as he pulls out of you. When the kiss breaks, your head returns to his shoulder. Clinging to him as if your life depends on it.

Hyunjin loves you from the table, lying you down on the cool leather couch. When he tries to release you, you begin to cry in protest.

“Shh, darling.” He says with a fond chuckle. “I’m just going to get you some water. I’ll be back.”

You’re asleep before he even gets his robe on. Before leaving, he picks up a bit. Returns the makeup to the table, finds your ring. Stuffs the panties in his pocket.

It’s a quick, brisk walk back to the set. A red light warns him that the cameras are rolling, yet he walks in without a care.

After all, without him, there’s no movie.

The director yells for the scene to end with an annoyed tone, turning his head to glare at whoever just interrupted the otherwise smooth scene. Hyunjin only smiles as he approaches him, the smell of sweat and sex rolling off his body.

It’s a wordless exchange — digging in his pocket, the actor pulls out your ring, wrapping your soiled panties around it. Carelessly, Hyunjin drops it on the director's lap, waiting for the realization to cross his face before he speaks.

“I quit.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fics #stray kids fics #skz angst #stray kids angst

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nogu-d-reamers · 1 month

Text

WELCOME TO PLAYTOWN/POPPY PLAYTOWN- CHARACTER REFERENCE #1.

CATNAP NUITLUNE- DESIGN AND DATA.

Information data:

Name: Catnap NuitLune.

Age: 24

Height: 320 mts/10'4 fts.

Species: Smiling critter creature. Cat (Maine coon cat).

Occupation: private detective.

Genre: male (he, him).

Sexuality: anthro.

Magical usser type: cursed.

Birth place: Gasetúde (Playgrounds).

Birth day: august 8th (not real birthday, it's just a symbolic date).

Personality:

He is usually a reserved, quiet man, little bit sarcastic and to a certain extent withdrawn and in his world. Because of his type of work and the night schedules he manages; It is common to see him asleep during the day anywhere in his work clothes at the Piggy family restaurant or near Kickin's cabin (or in general keeping him company while he rests with one of his friends).Although he usually seems to be a lazy person, and some of his own comments towards himself; He is someone who puts the people he cares about above his own well-being and is loyal to his friends to an absurd degree.

On the other hand, topics such as his family, his past in "beta-unit 1006" or the "prototypism" tend to make him uncomfortable and he will skip the topic immediately or pretends he needs another cigarette (even if he's smoking a new one)..

A funny gag with him is that he usually appears out of nowhere in favor of the situation and scaring everyone at the same time while repeating «it's not my turn, but...»

about his work and daily life.

He is a As mentioned above, he is a private detective who, due to his predilection, works the night shift (which is why he spends the rest of the day half asleep). He works for the detective agency "Mob Inc." Therefore, his way of dressing in civilian clothes at work does not have many differences and he maintains a dark color palette. In that agency he works only with Mr. Mob (founder and chief financial officer) and his "brother" and day shift colleague Boxy Boo.

He ended up getting entangled in the world of detectives due to an altercation in his youth where he tried to steal the wallet of who would be his boss and was given two options: hand him over to the police or work for him and have a formal job.

"Magic" data (and other skills):

like a cursed, it has the standard abilities that they generally have without the need for it to be activated =

- improved brute force.

- hyperdeveloped senses.

-permission and knowledge of handling weapons of his rank.

But, this can be activated when your body is under a very high stress situation or in a situation of extreme danger.

His curse has 3 phases=

Phase 1: activated.

His body begins to secrete and expel poppy smoke (a reminder that poppies are an inhibitor of magic, and for beings like witches it is a lethal poison) through the respiratory tract and his character, due to the pain it causes, becomes aggressive and alert. ; If panic does not take over, he can deactivate it voluntarily.

Phase 2: controlled/stable form.

It's the shape they wanted to achieve when they experimented with it in the first place.

His body begins to adapt to the poppy gas and has a "mild growth spurt"; The gas also goes from being just a sleeping pill to a tool to generate illusions in its favor and can generate the gas or poppy substance in a more solid way in its claws or fangs. His attitude also changes, becoming more sinic and playful; like a hunter who enjoys torturing his prey.

He can be reasoned with to a certain degree and if he realizes that he has hurt someone important to him he can revert to his activated form.

If he spends too much time in that way...he can get out of control.

Phase 3: uncontrolled/ unstable form.

It is what went wrong and made him consider a failure.

If he spends too much time in his controlled form the Poppy Smoke itself "takes over" Catnap's body, giving him the grotesque appearance of a skeletal cat surrounded by smoke; the only trace of his actual body being his eyes and mouth injected with poppy gas.

You can't reason with him...

You can't fight him...

You can only do two things = run away and pray that his energy runs out quickly so that he returns to his base form.

Medical notes:

-He is under strict medical treatment so that one day his curse cannot affect him.

-Even though he is stable, due to his physical modification, his body feels the need for the poppy substance; So as contradictory as it may sound, you are allowed to smoke a certain limited amount of cigarettes solely made from these flowers while investigating an alternative for his case; His trademark is "the hour of joy."

-Bobby is his designated therapist.

other random data:

favorite food: niçoise salad «un delice~♪».

Favorite dessert: beignets «i love desserts, mais;the beignets are my biggest weakness».

hated food: militar cookies «...bad memories...».

smell: lavender + poppy.

strength: loyalty, insight, thirst for research.

weakness:self-deprecation.

favorite physical appearance: star-freckles «everyone loves the étoiles, Right?».

hated physical appearance:«that stupid mark».

person you respect most: kickin «I owe a lot to that stupid coq»

person you don't want as an enemy: Bobby «She's scary when I'm not on time for treatment... and boy, nothing scares moi».

hobby:sleeping and gossip.

Some crush?: ... «Mr. Witcher».

#poppy playtime au #smiling critters #catnap #poppy playtime catnap #Welcome to playtown #poppy playtown #poppy playtime

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thesunshineriptide · 2 years

Note

Thank you for doing this request (if within your rules that I read and hopefully understood correctly.) and love your work.

So the request would be for twst dorm leaders reaction to s/o losing a bet with Leona and having to spend an afternoon snoozing in the garden with him. Also, for some x reason, Leona is getting revenge on dorm leader or they owe him a favor.

It can be gender neutral or gn. Whichever.

I dont think this goes against any rules and feel free to modify. Really looking for some fluff and laughs from their "jealous" reaction.

THANK YOU!

Keep up the great work :)

Thank you!! I’ve been trying hard. Hopefully I understood your request correctly because if not I’m gonna look stupid af skhffkjsl also oops I forgot the s/o part but I remembered flirting. So it ended up kinda being ~will they won’t they~

Okay due to the nature of this request I don’t really think I can have Leona reacting to…Leona getting revenge on himself, however you will not be empty handed in Leona-ness. Also 👀👀👀 did I hear jealousy???

Too much green to feel blue

Characters: Riddle, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Leona

Tw// mild threats, implications of criminal activity, mentions of poisoning, manhandling, jealousy, negative self talk (for Kalim and Idia), angst

Riddle

Riddle had invited you to the once a month Heartslabyul tea party like always, and you had of course said you were going to come. Well, day of, you appear nowhere to be seen. It isn’t like you to be late - at least not when Riddle’s involved, since he’d more than likely give you an earful on manners. So why, exactly, aren’t you here?

Riddle asked Cater to send off a clone to find you with the upmost amount of sweetness, it actually made Cater think he was having a stroke or got hit with a spell that messed with his mind. It wasn’t until Riddle began to flush bright cherry red that he got the memo that, no, he’s not dying, he’s just got a little crush.

So when a Cater clone went to find you and found you in the botanical gardens, laying there asleep with a smirking Leona napping on your chest, he knew better than to share this information.

“They’re sick.” He gave as an excuse, “Wanted to apologize for not letting you know sooner.”

So the party went on and as it was being taken down later, Riddle asked Trey to put aside some leftover cookies so he could take them to you and check on your health. Care frantically tried to get Trey to say no, only to be caught.

“They we’re in the botanical gardens with Leona…” he finally fessed, “Leona was taking a nap on them.”

Riddle’s little heart shaped hair antennas went straight in the air as his face went red. Trey could have sworn that smoke as pouring from his ears.

Of course it was Leona. A spat last week between Riddle and Leona must still be lingering in the air. All because Riddle said Savanaclaw can’t be excused from working in the arts and science festival, now he was using you to get to him?

Riddle marched his way to botanical garden. His face was scrunched so tightly and sternly that he almost looked constipated. As he stomped up to you and Leona, he softened slightly when he saw your eyes looking at him mournfully, and your arms trapped under Leona’s tight grip.

“Rosehearts.” The lion greeted, teeth glinting as he grinned, “Good to see you.”

Riddle narrowed his eyes, then leaned over and pulled you from Leona’s arms, much to Leona’s surprise (or possibly his plan, since the beastman was much stronger than this 7th grade looking teachers pet.)

“You missed the party.” Riddle said sternly.

“Oh, was that today?” Leona drawled in faux shock, “It completely slipped my mind. My apologies, truly.” He pouted, looking pleased with himself.

Riddle simply glared at him before tugging you away, “You’re never late. Why were you here?”

“I lost a bet.” You replied with exhaustion, “This was the price. I’m so sorry Riddle, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”

Instantly his mood shifted, and he threw another glare toward Leona before tugging you off.

“We’ll just have to have one of our own, to make up for it. C’mon, there’s treats left, and I’ll make us some tea. There’s this lovely Darjeeling I received in a package from my father that you’ll love.”

Azul

Azul tapped his toe impatiently as he looked at his watch. Mostro Lounge was ten minutes from opening and you still hadn’t arrived. Your shift was supposed to start 45 minutes ago, where were you? Well, he eventually grew tired of waiting and simply went to find you, leaving Jade in charge for the ten or so minutes it would take between finding you and bringing you back.

He had a generally good idea of who and where you would be held up, and he started at each location. Heartslabyul commons - nope. The alchemy classroom - no. Ramshackle - no, again. Perhaps you were stuck with an assignment for Crewel and gathering materials? You did seem to excel in Potionology, and Crewel did love to challenge his favorite students.

What he expected in the botanical gardens was to see you snipping flowers in a rush, or plucking roots from the soil. Maybe even watering the plants. What he didn’t expect was to see you trapped next to Leona, wrapped in his jacket (tied in a bow so you couldn’t use the arms, on backwards and zipped up like a straight jacket) with one of the lions arms slung over your side as you squirmed.

“Oi, herbivore, you lost the bet. Pay the price.”

“I’d rather deal with your wrath than the Leech twins. I watched Jade send someone into anaphylactic shock by ‘accidentally’ mixing peanuts into a dish. All because they were rude to one of the other servers. And I don’t wanna get squeezed either!”

Azul coughed to get their attention, resulting in both parties looking up at him. Leona wore a sly smirk as he looked up, while you wore a mildly terrified expression.

“You’re late for work.” Azul said tightly, “Leona, would you kindly release my worker?”

“Nah.” Leona said, proceeding to lay all the way on them. “They lost a bet with me. You know deals are made to be kept.”

“And what was this deal, exactly?” He asked, voice strained as he tried to keep it even. His knuckles where white under his gloves. He proceeded to hold his hands behind his back.

“He bet that I couldn’t evict all the ghosts from ramshackle in a month.” You said bashfully, “I said I could.”

Leona snickered and rubbed his head against their neck, “It’s fully legitimate.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, glaring at them both. “I thought you’d learned not to take deals with people after dealing with me, no?”

“Did you just admit that you’re shady?” You asked, suppressing a laugh.

“Perhaps.” He said, “Is there nothing I could negotiate in order for them to be freed?”

Leona laughed, then raised an eyebrow, “Aww, you care that much about one little herbivore? You goin soft on me?”

Azul glowered, “Mostro Lounge’s income triples whenever they work. They’re an invaluable asset, that’s all.”

“Mhmm, asset. Well, if you want…” Leona said. He got up and began to whisper with Azul as you struggled to sit up and free yourself from your jacket prison.

Azul continued to glare at Leona until he finally relented. “It’s a deal.” He said, snapping his fingers.

“No, no, no contract.” Leona insisted, “I’ll set ‘em free right now, but I ain’t signin’ that.”

Azul forced the golden scroll to disappear as Leona finally freed you. He tugged you to your feet and gave you a light shove to Azul.

“Have fun with that, herbivore.”

You rolled your eyes, “See you, Leona.”

As you and Azul walked back to Octavinelle, you murmured softly to him, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he laughed, though he sounded somewhat nervous, “You owe me now, you know that, don’t you?”

You sighed and nodded, “Yeah, but still. Thanks.”

He flushed a little, then looked away, “Of course, prefect. Can’t have my best worker out of commission, can I? Speaking of, you’re already late.”

Kalim

It’s odd for the ramshackle prefect and their talking cat to be late to Scarabia’s tri-weekly party. Whether this was for the food or because of Kalim’s company, that was a guess for anyone. It really seemed as though the housewarden and prefect were thick as thieves, going on carpet rides and walks alone more often than not.

So when you never arrived for lunch, Kalim got worried. He waited and waited, thinking perhaps you’d simply forgotten the time. He didn’t seek you out immediately - I mean, maybe you’re just busy? But he did go looking for you after he heard you were missing from classes too.

Leona wasn’t intending to make Kalim jealous. It honestly doesn’t seem like something he’d ever be, he’s so happy - but keeping you from Kalim made Jamil’s job harder, and Leona was pissed at him for snagging a spelldrive player and getting them on basketball club instead. Really, that’s fucking rude.

Kalim relaxed momentarily when he finally found you in the gardens, but a tight tingling met the back of his throat when he saw you were snuggled up with Leona. He looked away and rubbed at his eyes, then frowned.

This is where you were? Did you like Leona more than him now? Why didn’t you tell him you wouldn’t make it? Was he not a good enough friend? Did you not really like hi-

His train of thought is cut off when he looks up to see you sleepily staring at him, then detangling yourself from Leona for exactly one moment (Leona’s not letting go, but we’ll give a little more leash) to make grabby hands at Kalim.

Kalim obligingly came closer sitting close without touching.

“‘M sorry I didn’t come today.” You said, “Leona trapped me. I made a bet with him and lost.”

Kalim nodded quietly, “So…”

You opened your arms again, pulling him down to lay with you, “I wanted to hang out. I planned on coming, I swear, but Ruggie stole my phone.”

Kalim let you tug him down, settling down to snuggle with you and Leona.

“We’re still friends?” Kalim asked quietly.

“We’re best friends.” You said seriously, pulling him closer.

There, the three of you napped while the rest of the school was (metaphorically) on fire.

Vil

Oh boy. You skipped helping him film his new project. Spudling, did you think he wouldn’t notice? You’re quite vital for him! Who is supposed to be his general audience? Who will tell him if something is boring or too long or the shot is weird? Evidently, filming could NOT happen without you. Everything seemed like it was going wrong and Vil was NOT having it. So, he naturally stalked off to find you, leaving Rook to make sure every didn’t leave (or it’d be a worse fate than pissing off Riddle)

It didn’t take long before Vil cornered the idiot duo and made them spill where you were. Napping? In the gardens? With Kingscholar? ALL DAY?

How could you ruin your precious sleep schedule?! And especially on that mangey, dirty, lazy lion man?

Three minutes later he’s towering over you and Leona. Leona, who is staring back at him with and evil grin, and you, half awake, looking like you’re about to piss yourself.

“Spudling,” Vil began calmly, “What are you doing here?”

“RUGGIE STOLE MY PHONE-“ was the first thing you wailed.

This was cut off when Vil held up one hand, eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “Not what I asked. Try again.”

“They lost a bet.” Leona said cooly, “Said they could win an arm wrestling match with Epel.”

“He’s so much stronger than I expected…” you whispered, shuddering at the thought.

Vil stood there, trying to figure out if he should be proud, pissed, disappointed, or jealous.

“And this is the price of your bet?” Vil asked, staring at the beastman.

“Yep.” Leona said, popping the ‘p’ for dramatic effect.

“Hmm…” Vil looked around the gardens, “This could add a certain ambiance. Yes, this will do nicely for my project.”

Leona’s eyes went wide, then narrowed, “What do you mean, Schoenheit.”

“If you won’t let my Spudling come and help me, I will simply bring what I need help with here.”

The two held a staring contest for so long you were worried that time may have actually stopped. Leona blinked first, and let out a groan, “Oh fine.”

He untangled himself from you, mumbling, “You’ll just have to make up for this on another day, herbivore.”

Vil smirked as the two of you walked off, Vil with a confident strut and you in a daze.

“Spudling?” Vil asked sweetly, a hand moving to fix your hair as you walked.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever blow me off again.”

Idia

Honestly, Idia knew about this beforehand. He can see every text, email, and video feed inside the school, and he also can access all of Ortho’s files. So, he definitely knew.

He was just sort of silently hoping you would bail on Leona instead of him. Wouldn’t you rather watch anime or play star-whatever? Don’t you wanna snuggle and eat gummy worms with him while you infodump about everything you’ve learned recently and he offers random fun facts he knows while you talk so you know he’s listening? Don’t you wanna play mariokart with him and ortho?

Okay, maybe it’s just as boring, but he’s better company, right? Leona…Leona is a prince.

He ended up just sulking in his room, watching you through the botanical gardens security cameras until Ortho eventually appeared on screen.

“Leona Kingscholar, can you please let go of my brother’s friend? He’s sulking in his room.”

“No.”

Ortho did not accept this, and went into Child Mode, immediately beginning to annoy the shit out of Leona until he eventually gave in.

“Oh my sevens, fine. Herbivore, go to the little thunderstorm inside of Ignihyde. Just know you’re not getting out of paying up.”

You shrugged and nodded, saying goodbye. Twenty minutes later, you and Ortho arrived at Idia’s dorm room with two giant bags from Mr S’s shop.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, despite not being late for anything, “I got caught by a lion.”

Ortho beamed at Idia, “I found them!”

“Yeah, you did. Great job Ortho!” Idia replied, words stumbling over themselves in the rush. He got up and came closer, tentatively pulling you into a hug.

“Please don’t stop hanging out with me because Leona’s cooler.”

you laughed, hugging him back, “I was just with him cause I lost a bet.”

“A bet?”

“Said I could steal Azul’s glasses from him.”

“…well that was dumb of you.”

“Thanks, sugar pie.”

“NANI?!”

Malleus

Listen, these two genuinely have it out for each other. No matter what, being around Leona is going to make Malleus insanely jealous.

“Child of man.” Malleus greets, standing directly above you.

You blink an eye open. You look at him, he looks at you, then he nods to Leona’s sleeping body beside you. He wears a blank look, but his eyes read pure firey hatred.

“I had hoped you’d accompany for the Gargoyle appreciate club meeting tonight. Come to find out, you were missing from classes all day. Is this where you’ve been?”

Leona finally ‘woke up’ and looked to Malleus. “You jealous?”

Malleus turned to look at him, unblinking, “I don’t take kindly to my things being stolen.”

“Things?” You asked, “Yours?”

He looked startled at his own words, the cleared his throat, “Ah, my friend. I apologize.”

Leona snorted, “His lizard side came out. Although, it’s never really hidden, is it?”

Malleus held in a growl, “You should know better than to test a dragon, Kingscholar.”

Leona shrugged, snuggling himself further into your side, ignoring the way you tensed at being in the middle of one of their spats.

“Hardly a dragon. Just an overgrown lizard.”

Malleus barely registered the fact that he used magic to remove you from Leona’s grip, instead being the one to hold you.

“I bid you good day, Kingscholar.”

“And where do you think you’re going with them?” Leona called, “They were with me fair and square. We had a deal.”

“A deal?” Malleus raised an eyebrow at you, then turned back to Leona, who was now standing, “What deal?”

“We made a bet.” He said smugly, walking closer, “Payment is that they have to spend a whole day napping in here with me.”

Malleus hummed, then turned to look out the window.

“It seems you did.”

Leona held out his arms, “So give ‘em back.”

“Ah,” Malleus grinned, “It’s past sundown now. That means the day is now over, and they’re free to go, does it not?”

There was a tense silence.

“Take ‘em.” Leona said, “I’m tired of nappin’ anyway. Got stuff to do.”

#twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst #twst mc #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit #kalim al asim #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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