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opultea · 1 year

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Abnormal Love Languages

Genshin men with weird ways of expressing their love for you - Gender Neutral Reader (No Pronouns) - SFW - Romantic - Fluff/Crack

ft. Alhaitham, Wanderer, Heizou, Tighnari, Dottore

Alhaitham

The Scribe of the Akademiya, a renowned scholar, and a totally awkward boyfriend

So what does this intelligent, well-known, socially unaware man do when he wants to show you he loves you?

Infodumping

Knows a lot and makes sure you know it too

If he fell in love with you that means he respects your intelligence and curiosity enough to find interest in your company

So whenever he's on the couch with a new book on Theoretical Quantum Mechanics, he will be reciting the facts to you as if he's doing an oral presentation

Alhatiham keeps one of those big rolly whiteboards in his house (usually used to lecture Kaveh) and you know that when he pulls it out then it is officially date night

He pours you both a glass of wine for a nice candlelit dinner, but then you ask him about his new book and suddenly it's a romantic candlelit lecture

Lucky you find his intelligence attractive ;)))

If you ever need gift ideas for him just get a pack of multicoloured whiteboard markers, he always needs new ones

Even though you might end up regretting enabling his little habit

Wanderer

Traumatised Tsundere (TM)

Has never wanted anything more than to be loved the way he observed in humans, but has always believed he could never be loved in any way. It has only been proven to him that it isn't possible

So he protects himself from rejection by teasing and swatting you away, almost trying to make you hate him so he can at least expect what reactions to get from you

He views it as safe, he knows how humans are when they are angry and hateful, he's experienced it firsthand, so he knows what will come of it

Even though he's secretly saddened by feeling like he has to hurt you

So when you respond to him bonking your head with laughter and a smile brighter than he's seen on anyone in his direct presence before, it startles him

When he pushes your face away with his hand and you retaliate by latching onto his arm he freezes (Wanderer.exe has stopped working)

Calls you stupid and insults your survival instincts

"Honestly, if a complete stranger were to push you away like this, would you still clutch their arm like a lost puppy? How absurd, you obviously couldn't survive without me protecting you, since you evidently can't tell good intentions from bad ones,"

Then you pout and tell him that of course you don't do this with other people, you do it because it's him!

He stops working again

Shoves you to the ground to avoid you seeing how red his face is

Heizou

Riddles and puzzles/tries to quiz you by making you help him solve a case

Brings you to crime scenes even though you are not a detective and definitely aren't allowed to be there just so he can test your skills

"So, what can you gather from this crime scene? This case isn't particularly difficult, so I have no doubt you'll be chasing down the perp in no time,"

Honestly your whole relationship is like an escape room

You want to get into your house but forgot your key? Well knock in morse code and maybe Heizou will let you in

You want to have a nice lunch date with your boyfriend? Well you best be prepared for an intense game of shogi while you eat

You want Heizou to pass you a pen? Well first you must answer these questions three!

But seriously, he makes it fun for you and makes sure to let you know that it’s his way of telling you how much he respects you and he values your input and intelligence

Tighnari

As an Amurta scholar and a forest watcher who has seen way too many cases of mushroom-based food poisoning, Tighnari has learnt to be prepared to dish out medical treatment

So if you cough even once, or sneeze in his presence, Tighnari will begin an impromptu check-up to ensure you're still feeling your best

You try telling him you're fine, people sneeze all the time without being sick, but he just scolds you even more for thinking you could get away without him making sure you're alright

"Don't be so proud, you idiot. What am I going to do with you if you go and get sick?"

Tighnari would hate if you fell ill under his careful watch, but if you do get sick or injure yourself, prepare for a two hour lecture and a bowl of fresh creamy mushroom stew to help you get back into tiptop shape

He's usually incredibly busy with his forest watcher duties, but will somehow almost never leave your side if he's tending to you

When you aren't sick, he makes sure you're eating well, going so far as to prepare your meals or make a nutrition table based on the vitamins he thinks you need more of

Always reminds you to drink water and take any medication you need, your health is his top priority

Dottore

Psychopath (Endearing)

Takes x-rays of you just to admire your lovely bone structure and hangs them up around your shared bedroom as if they're regular date pictures

He loves to have you sit in his lap as he caresses your body and coos at your flesh, whispering sweet nothings in his suavest voice about your organs, and telling you what a strong heart you must have because he can feel it through your shirt

Unwinding with Dottore almost always goes this way, with you getting a shower of what you're pretty sure are compliments about your internal systems and physical attributes

He once shocked you with a mini electric buzzer just to see your central nervous system go off. You were naturally quite annoyed about it but he just shrugged it off, claiming that he just loved to see your body at work, although he never did it again

His doctor brain never turns off, so be prepared to have his fingers in your mouth as he goes on about what wonderful teeth you have

It certainly makes you feel... special

You should feel special, he definitely doesn't do this with anyone else

Dottore is so enchanted by your being that he grows human organs in his lab that are exactly the size and shape of yours, saying it's so you can see for yourself just how beautiful you are

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fluff #romantic #sfw #alhaitham x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #heizou x reader #tighnari x reader #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #love languages #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #gn reader #no pronouns #gender neutral reader

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yellowharrington · 2 months

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sugar sweet -- carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: brief mention of body image issues (not towards reader) and suicide (mikey's death), eating dessert and a lot of food talk, gn!reader (but mention of wearing heels), use of y/n briefly in texts. reader is mentioned as an accountant or adjacent professional person and smoking is mentioned (reader and carmy). please let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: hey team !! i hope y'all enjoy this fluffy little blorbo about carmy's birthday bc i needed to write about being soft to him. this is an old wip i finally finished so pls rb and leave feedback and comments ily

summary: it's carmy's birthday and you want to make it special for him again.

-`♡´-

It’s not that Carmy doesn’t like his birthday.

No, it’s not that.

It’s just that he’s never had a good one.

When he was 9, his mom tried to make him a birthday cake. French vanilla, with buttercream icing, multicoloured sprinkles on top. But she had somehow managed to get so frustrated that she had thrown the whisk across the kitchen, the burnt cake thrown in the sink, and taken to the backyard for her millionth cigarette of the day. She was breaking down, as usual, and Carmy was the one that had to go out and rub her back and tell her it was fine. That he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday.

When he was 13, he ended up spending the afternoon consoling Natalie in her bedroom, after his mom had again, made a backhanded comment about her body. That yeah, she’d gained weight in her midsection, and yeah, the stress was showing on her hips. She was sobbing into her pillows, clutching her pink sheets and wailing, leaving Carmy with nothing to do but kiss her on the cheek and leave her alone. He assured her, again, that he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday.

And when he’s 24 and scrubbing the floors of The Beef at midnight, sweat dripping down his forehead and into the collar of his shirt. Michael had just died, so yeah, it was a little raw. The fluorescent lights were beating down on his back as he dumped hot soapy water on the floor and scrubbed everything away. Scrubbed away his memories, every Christmas with his brother, every screaming match. He let it all go down the drain. He’s assured himself that he’s fine, he didn’t matter, and no, Michael’s fucking suicide would not ruin his birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

He meets you later that year. Sitting in the park, doing a crossword at 7:00am, your BEC and hot coffee cooling off on the bench beside you. You’re obviously a professional of some kind: tight black slacks and a matching blazer, white dress shirt stretched over your torso, hair pristinely styled. Black heels, he notices, that you’ll switch out in the middle of the day because they squeeze your toes.

When he sits beside you, you don’t pay him any mind. He’s disheveled, sandy curls pushed back on his head, a grey crewneck sweater over a white t-shirt, collar peaking through at the neck. He sets his identical breakfast next to yours, taking out a cigarette and slipping it between his lips. You look over when he flicks his lighter, a soft exhale leaving his nose. “Oh, sorry,” he takes the cigarette from his lips and wafts the smoke away. “I forgot not everyone in this city smokes.”

You smiled tightly, nodding, letting yourself relax onto the back of the bench. “I don’t mind.” He nodded back to you, letting his hand rest on his knee as he took another drag. “Anything worth reading in there today?” He gestures to the newspaper balanced on your knee. You look at him again, shrugging your shoulders, only to tap your pen against the side of your leg. “No, there never is. I just do the crosswords. You wouldn’t happen to know a 4 letter word for ‘kitchen second in command’, would you?”

He laughs a little, taking another slow drag. “Sous?” You look down at the newspaper, penning in the small boxes, sitting back to smile at him. “Thank you,” you raise your coffee cup to him. “‘m a chef, over at The Beef in River North,” he has a mouthful of his sandwich now, as he points in the general direction of the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, I think you guys catered one of our events one time. It’s like, sandwiches and stuff, right?” He nods, taking a sip of coffee. You follow after him, letting the hot coffee touch your lips.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I, uh, just took it over. It’s kind of a shit show right now but we’re tryna fix it.” You unwrap the sandwich and sink your teeth into the soft bagel, covering your mouth before beginning to speak. “What happened to the guy who used to own it? Did you just buy it off of him, or what?”

“He died,” he says, deadpan, letting the cigarette come between his lips again. “He was my brother and uh, yeah - he died.” You nod at your own embarrassment, at the thought of asking a random stranger about his dead brother by accident. “Oh, I didn’t-uh, God - sorry,” you stammer, letting yourself turn towards him. “It’s fine,” he waves the smoke away again. “It’s not a big deal.” You almost laugh at his demeanour, so nonchalant. You pull a cardholder out of your blazer pocket, the small clasp opening. Cream cardstock, black writing - a business card, handing it over to him, but not before scribbling your personal number on the back. “If you need anything, accounting related or otherwise, call me.” He takes it and looks for a second, raising his eyebrow at the pristine card. “I can’t afford you,” he laughs. “No charge. Thanks for the help on the crossword…” you wait expectantly for a name. “Oh, Carmen. Carmy,” he finishes. “Nice to meet you.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It had been a few months since your first meeting. Now, you chose to spend almost every Sunday with him - his one day off. He’d usually make you breakfast, sometimes an omelette with gouda cheese and chives, or fluffy pancakes with a berry compote and homemade whipped cream. For a man that cooked all day, every day, he certainly didn’t mind making any meals for you, especially when you woke up next to him in his old t-shirt and nothing underneath.

You’d known Carmy for long enough now to have pieced together the whole story - a few nights here and there coming around The Beef after closing had granted you the pleasure of meeting Richie, who Carmy affectionately called Cousin. “He’s a little fucked up,” Richie had told you behind the slightly ajar door of the office, as you sat and waited for Carm to finish up. “With Mikey and everything. He won’t let ‘ya know, but he is. I’m happy he’s got somebody,” he looks back at the kitchen, the usual pots and pans clanging behind him. “You didn’t hear it from me, but it’s his birthday on Sunday,” Richie gets closer to you, his hand coming closer. “Back up Richie,” “Sorry. Force of habit. Do not tell him I told you. Take it to your grave. He likes red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing like a little bitch boy, they’re his favourite, alright?” You nod, looking to see if he was anywhere near. “Heard.”

You catch Marcus on the way out while Carmy fucks with something else in the kitchen. “Hey, Marcus,” you grab his arm, right before he’s about to put a headphone in and start on his way home. “Hey, what’s good?” “I need a red velvet cake recipe. And a cream cheese icing recipe. And a walk through of how to bake a batch of cupcakes. Please.” He nodded slightly, looking down at his phone. “I’ll text you what I’ve got. Is it a special occasion?” You look over at Carmy, who was wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, uh, it is.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Marcus had let you borrow a few cupcake pans and a package of liners, as well as his KitchenAid stand mixer for the batter. You’d gathered all of the ingredients from the recipe he’d given you, set everything up in your tiny apartment kitchen on the Saturday before Carmy’s birthday, furiously mixing wets and drys in different bowls, sifting flour and separating egg whites from yolks. The cigarette was taught between your lips, tank top strap falling off your shoulder as you slowly began to mix the batter together.

[Carmen] 11:18pm

Hey

How are you baby?

Just finishing up here

You flicked the cigarette ash onto the fire escape as you nodded your head in rhythm with the song on the speaker, letting the batter mix in the background as you started to sift the powdered sugar into the clean bowl. You weren’t even looking at the time until you heard the familiar chime of your phone, sticky floury hands grabbing your cell phone to see the text from Carmy.

“Shit, fuck,” you turned the mixer off, putting the remnants of your cigarette out in the sink.

[(Y/N) personal] 11:26pm

Hey, just busy right now

Will text in a bit

Love you

When Carmy reads the text he’s a little… surprised to say the least. For you to have plans on a Saturday night was not unheard of by any means, but it wasn’t what he was expecting. Anxiety creeped up a little, because what could you be doing at 11:30pm?

[Carmen] 11:27pm

Love you too

You ok?

[(Y/N) personal] 11:27pm

Of course

Come over when you’re done

A smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he continues to wipe down the stainless steel counter in front of him, nearly spotless already. Most of the other crew has gone home, save for Marcus in his station proofing his donuts for tomorrow and Richie texting someone at the expo line. He slips his phone in the pocket under his apron, undoing the knot on the back and dropping it in the hamper by the back door. “You guys can lock up, yeah?” Carmy calls, seeing Marcus nod at him and bid him goodnight with a small wave. “Heard,” Richie calls. “‘Night, cousin.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Carmy had called a few times, your phone ringing and ringing, but the chaotic kitchen had forced you to miss the calls. It was past midnight now, and you’d spent your whole day in the kitchen, the night getting away from you way quicker than you had intended. You had a small box in your bedside table, a thin gold chain you hadn’t wrapped for him yet, and your apartment was a fucking mess. Pans and bowls strewn across every surface, flour on the floors and walls, and somehow, and you had cream cheese icing under your fingernails. It was a bit of a mess.

When the icing was done, you managed to squeeze some on the tops of the cupcakes just in time to hear the lock on your door click. You stood, silently, as you heard Carmy quietly kick off his boots. He thought you might be sleeping.

Ha, far from it.

“Babe?”

When he rounded the corner, it was a sight to see for sure. Your hands twisted around a makeshift pastry bag, which was really a ZipLoc with a hole cut in the bottom. Apron tied in a bow around your waist, only accentuating the curves of your body. Carmy drinks you in.

“What are you doing?”

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Baking.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

He stepped forward tentatively, an amused smile on his face. His hand reached to the small of your back, a kiss adorning your cheek.

“Why are you baking?” He takes a finger to the end of the bag, sticking it in his mouth and marvelling at the taste. “Why are you killing it at baking?”

You smiled. “Don’t be mad.”

His eyebrow cocked, noticing the desserts in front of him, really, for the first time since he stepped in the door.

“Fucking Richie,” his hand found his forehead. “Fucker.”

“Happy Birthday, Carm.” You let the bag of icing flop on the stovetop, while your arms wrapped around his neck. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, slotting them together to quiet the thoughts in his mind. You started to pepper kisses all over his face and neck, giggling between them, before he couldn’t help but burst into laughter himself.

“He told me they were your favourite, and I asked Marcus for a recipe and I haven’t tried one yet, even!” the words tumbled out of your mouth as he pulled you impossibly closer, swaying a little with you in his arms.

“Sorry. Richie told me not to make a dig deal, I just thought,” you shrugged, letting your hands slide down his biceps and tracing the faded tattoos there with your pointer finger. “I thought we could make it special again. If you want.”

The wild look in your eyes was enough to have him push forward again, lips crashing into lips, the amalgamation of all the tastes from his day on your tongue.

“Thank you.” He peers over your shoulder at the cupcakes, still in the tin, suddenly very interested in tasting the fruits of your labour.

“Should we try these?” His hand drops effortlessly to your waist, letting his body push past yours. He picks up a cupcake, handing one to you and ‘cheers’ing them playfully. He unwrapped the foil on the outside, sinking his teeth into the soft, sweet dessert.

“Mmmh,” he moans, letting his eyes roll back into his head slightly. “Wow,” the red colour coats his teeth. “Yeah.”

You nod along with him, your own teeth sinking in. “Oh yeah, I kinda killed it with these.”

“Hm, wait,” you put the cupcake down, pushing past him. You take the opportunity to put your hand on his broad back, feeling the muscles underneath.

When you return, he’s licking the rest of the icing off of his fingers. The way his lips wrap around his fingers makes your breath hitch.

“Before you say anything, it’s just small, if you hate it you can return it, blah blah blah…” you trail off, but you can’t hide the excitement across your features.

He pulls open the clamshell box, the gold chain reflecting against the warm lights of the kitchen and dancing along the walls. His lips part slightly, forming an “o” shape, with surprise.

“You’re…” he seems genuinely speechless. Carmy usually isn’t a man of many words, anyway, but this was noticeably different.

“Do you like it?” Your bottom lip is folded under your teeth in anticipation, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“You’re perfect,” is all he can say, and you swear you can see his eyes get a little glassy.

“Aw, well, don’t get soft on me now,” you let your arms wrap around him once again, pulling him into a hug this time. Your head fits perfectly into his chest, smelling the distinct scent of his signature cologne, long now covered by the smells of the restaurant. Him.

His nose fits perfectly into the crook of your neck as he leans down, deepening the hug to pull you in impossibly close. His lips latch onto the soft spot beneath your ear, enraptured by your presence.

For the first time in his life, Carmy is actually going to have a good birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

#carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

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wisesnail · 8 months

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Ages ago I tried sketching directly with a pen - it was a super interesting (and difficult, for me) exercise, but then I started focusing on pencils and limited colour palettes...

Well it dawned on me I could use one of those multicoloured pens and combine the two approaches 🤭

This Lee DongWook is the result of my first Break Sketch experiment 💪

#lee dong wook #break sketch #wisesnail #my art #multicoloured pen

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saeitoshithoughts · 1 year

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PUPPY LOVE

♥️ dating itoshi sae in middle school + in which he swears to marry you + headcanons

characters: itoshi sae

- it started off from you offering him your pencils whenever he seems to forget his. then it moved on to you poking at his shoulder whenever he dozed off in class.

- it escalated: where you would list down his homework for him whenever he is away in an important match for school. in which he would return the favour to show his gratitude by buying you little trinkets he thinks you’d like with his pocket money.

- his pocket money wasn’t much, so most of them came from the convenience store close to his home.

- usually they’re ice creams, sometimes they’re pens with multicolour selection.

- sometimes they were packets of lolipops.

- he then starts to invite you to see his football matches- unwilling for you to see him as a clumsy and hopeless boy who can’t study or do his cleaning duties without causing a bigger mess.

- he shows off a little more- refuses to pass the ball to anyone else.

- it ends with him scoring all five goals for his team.

- the cat was out of the bag when he finally decides to man up and hand you an expensive heart shaped box filled with chocolates the next day. (he promised his mom that he’d do the laundry for a month if she brought it for him).

- first thing first: sae is a family man who expects marriage out of this.

- after your second year together, you were presented with a clumsily drawn marriage certificate: with his big handwriting sprawled over the boxes and two other empty boxes- waiting for you to sign your name away/

- sae takes promises seriously: he will make it happen.

- sae who makes thought-filled promises to you:

“ill buy you the expensive stuff once we’re older and i become the best.”

“i can buy that dress for you no problem once i become the best.”

“ill buy you a bigger ring than that.” he once points out, while holding your hand in your pockets on a bitterly cold winter night- when he saw you gawking at a woman getting proposed to.

- sae who tells his family about you.

- his dad tried to tease him, only to be met with sae’s proud face,

“yeah, we’re gonna marry once I become the best”

- sae, who takes his promise so seriously that a new chapter starts with his hand holding yours, hair carefully and neatly swept back, suit thoroughly ironed out, saying:

“I do.” (and i always have)

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi headcanons #blue lock headcanons #sae x reader #blue lock #sae headcanons #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader

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nocturnalstarlet · 1 month

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thinking abt bf!felix catton today!!

bf!felix who takes you to your favourite boutiques and sits in the little seat in the changing room watching you try things on because he’d miss you too much if he was standing outside the changing room.

bf!felix who loves watching you try on your little outfits that he knows wouldn’t be appropriate to wear to dinner with his family but he likes the way your eyes light up and you twirl for him in front of the mirror to show him all the angles of an outfit you love.

bf!felix who literally doesn’t let you do anything by yourself even if you tell him that you can because you’re his and he wants to show that he can take care of you. you have not held a single one of your library books nor your own bags if you ever take one out with you.

bf!felix who loves to take you out to clubs and parties so that he can show you off to all of his friends and pull you closer when you dance under the multicoloured strobe lights.

bf!felix who holds your shoes in one hand while holding your hand in the other when your feet get tired of dancing in them and making sure to give you the best massage when you get back from a night out.

bf!felix who showers you in kisses day in and day out. kisses on your forehead, kisses on the palm of your hand, kisses on your cheeks, kisses on your lips that linger but it never feels like long enough for him.

bf!felix who walks up to you when you’re having a conversation with someone else in the courtyard and announces his presence by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.

bf!felix who pouts whenever you call him anything other than a nickname. “it’s literally your name, felix” “i know but please stop calling me that.” :(((

bf!felix who loves to say “my” before calling you his wide array of pet names. my love. my baby. my darling.

bf!felix who needs your attention every second and who fully pouts if he doesn’t get it.

bf!felix who likes to lay his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair, especially when it’s getting longer and he knows he needs a haircut but you always tell him how much you like it longer.

bf!felix who leaves you embarrassingly bad but adorable little love letters and cute drawings on the corners of your papers with your favourite pens that you have to hide in your dorm (because he steals them from you).

bf!felix who is the sweetest, kindest, most generous bf you could ever ask for. who you understand more than anyone else ever will. and he knows that you have always seen all of him and loved him unconditionally which quite frankly he’s just not used to.

ur honour i love him such a normal amount-

#felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton imagine #felix catton drabble #felix catton fluff #felix x reader #felix x you #felix x y/n #felix drabble #jacob elordi #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn x you #x reader #୨୧ ›› read my mind.#୨୧ ›› felix catton.

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vanderilnde · 2 months

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i need more professor Price pleaseeee😭😭🙏🏼

hell yeah brother i was waiting for this ask

He’s so suave with it. It’s a testament to both his age and his field of study, linguistics, in how Price is able to ply you with sweet, trusting words and a tractable face.

He’d heard of your upcoming lecture—a lesson on the epistemology of language—and insisted that he help you with your material. Who are you to deny? Price has years of experience under his belt, that sentiment reflected in the papery crows feet of his eyes as he smiles and the spread of parsed-over dissertations published in his name.

Price calls you to his office when you’re finished teaching your last lecture for the day, when only a sparse amount of students remain on campus. When the sky is hanging out to dry and you two are the only academic staff still working.

You stand on the threshold of his office. Price sits behind the venetian red of his big desk, fanning out his legs, spreading himself against its leathery backrest.

An amused look unfurls across his face. It offsets the innate, rugged look he has, provides a bit of disarmed magnetism as the sheet of soft skin on his belly shakes when he laughs.

“What’re you standin’ all the way there for?” He teases. Curls his finger into a shepherding motion. “C’mere, I don’t bite. Not if you don’t fancy it.”

Price chuckles as you fold your lips, preening under the sudden embarrassment that lays hold of you. You step inside, clutching your script, the papers already dog-eared and shaded in multicoloured footnotes along the margins. You bite your nails into the leather facet of the chair sitting across from Price, but he tuts, collapsing your movements.

“John?” You hum.

He sets his hands around the lip of his desk, pushing himself back. And, before the confusion makes it to your bones, Price is spreading his knees wider, slapping his thigh.

Your eyes widen. “John-“

“We’re all adults here aren’t we, Lassie?” He says, Tucks his chin into his chest like he always does, crossing his arms, looking at you expectantly.

Your tongue feels drenched in sorghum syrup and treacle. It’s heavy, laden, as you struggle with a response.

Price continues anyway. “I reckon you’ll control yourself around me just fine.”

You flush, and Price chuckles. He’s rubbing his thigh now. Over and around it, bending atop the curve of it, kneading his own flesh.

“Also,” he tacks on, “it’ll be easier f’r me to read your script. Rather than passin’ it back every line.”

The sorghum syrup pushes down your throat as you swallow. John raises his eyebrows, tilting his head as if he’s just made a valid point. He keeps beckoning you, shepherding you closer as your feet take hesitant steps. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his lap. Flush, against the cable-knit of his sweater vest.

“There we go,” he hums. “Wasn’t so hard was it, Bird?”

You shake your head. The wiry hair of his beard grazes the shell of your ear as he leans in, holding a pen, beginning to sift through your script. He adds a few tweaks here and there, and lulls you by squeezing your hip.

Every now and then, Price will inhale. That’s when he drags the spire of his nose along your neck, breathing deeply, pretending to sniffle under the whorls of cigar smoke in his office.

Something is poking you. You begin to move, but Price swiftly stops you. Holds you with the hand that’s held so many pens, that’s cracked open the spines of so much literature. Price keeps you on top of him. On top of the suddenly stiff, bellied muscle of his lap.

“Settle down,” he grunts. “We’ll be here a while.”

#john price x reader #john price #price x reader #price/reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price writing #professor!price

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firefirefruit · 4 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twelve

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twelve: Read Me, But Don't Weep

“Raya? Are you there?”

The clock ticks in the empty studio, wooden floors untouched by the sound of footsteps for days.

“We’re really worried, Raya. Please let me see you.”

Gramps used to be walking around the studio at this time of day. He’d have a steaming cup in hand as he’d trail past your empty workbench, a proud smile curling on his lips. He’d pick your blades up when he thought you weren’t watching and run his finger on their sharp edges.

“Sanji’s here with a meal for you.”

If his finger bled, he’d smile to himself with an approving sip of tea. If it didn’t, he would’ve peeled a post it note from the large stack you’d keep on your table.

“She still isn’t responding. I…I don’t know what to do…”

“Give her time, Nami-san. Look there.” A clinking of plates. The faint silhouette of a cigarette in hand. “She’s finished another bowl. That’s progress.”

He’d draw an arrow across the note using his non-dominant hand, balancing the cup in his other. He’d tack it on the metal, recap the pen, and sit outside with his journal.

The shadow of a small figure props up on his shoulder. “But her wounds, Sanji. If they don’t get tended to, I won’t sleep at night…”

An inhale of smoke. “I have an idea.”

“Look at me!” it would say. Very vague, very non-descriptive. But you’d instantly know what you needed to refine.

When he’d go to sleep, you’d snag the same scrawled-on note from your workspace, scrawl a goofy animal bowing, saying, ‘thank you, old man!’ underneath his text, and quickly slip it into his logbook.

You haven’t slept for days. It’s the anxiety - the sudden twang of loneliness that pulls in your chest when you’re in your bed; the light flickers, your eyes search for the time, and suddenly it hits you that Suki isn’t going to come into your room to wish you goodnight anymore.

The clock's unforgiving chime echoes at five in the morning. Your workshop, usually a sanctuary, feels stifling as you pace anxiously. A tumult of possibilities, questions, and thoughts overwhelms you, each one intensifying the tight knot in your chest, and frankly...

Well, frankly, when you close your eyes, you’re haunted by the image of those eyeballs.

One purple, one grey. One purple, one grey. One that makes you scream, the other that makes you cry.

Today’s the day you finally decide to go through his journal. Always meticulously placed on his favourite stool, its edges torn, and pages thickly bound with a multitude of Gramps-esque thoughts, it lays there from a distance as a heavy reminder of him.

When you open its contents, your fingers tracing through each page, a flurry of multicoloured papers roll out like a snowstorm, covering the floor with hundreds of small post-it notes.

“FLATTEN ME HERE >” one note says.

Below his instruction is your response, a drawing depicting a bear clasping its hands together, saying,

“Thanks, Gramps!”

A blue post-it note, this time:

“Good job. Very sharp.” Smudged traces of blood adorn the top of its corner.

“Need a plaster?” you respond, presenting a very detailed drawing of a smug human smile slapped on a cat’s face.

And you can’t help it. Tears seem to be pooling up in your eyes as you crouch to the floor, fingers gently going through each note in silence. You miss him. You feel out of control. You’re just…lost.

Gently, a soft rapping interrupts the stillness at the front door. Your attention sharply redirects to the source, and with a swift, almost instinctive motion, you vigorously swipe your face with the rough fabric of your sleeve as if trying to erase all emotion on your face.

“Good morning, Raya-san. I’ve put your breakfast outside the door…”

His figure lingers in the crook of the opaque door. He pulls a cigarette to his mouth, a hand tucked into his pockets, and he waits. Only for a second. Waiting to see if maybe this time, you’ll open the door.

True to expectations, there's no response from you. You're crouched on the floor, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of notes, observing his figure as it remains a mere blur. He exists as an elusive presence, unable to connect with you on any level beyond the provision of sustenance.

He fidgets slightly, pressing his legs away from the door.

“…Hey, just…please don’t forget to hydrate.”

As the echoes of his departing footsteps fade, you gradually unfurl from your crouched position. Moving with deliberate quietness, you approach the door, fingertips grazing its surface before grasping the knob. With a gentle turn, you lean in to peer through the peephole, confirming the emptiness beyond.

He's gone.

A sigh of relief escapes you as the door swings open. Your gaze drifts downward, and an overwhelming tide of gratitude and warmth floods your being. The remnants of his kindness linger in the air, a subtle yet tangible embrace. He tends to you, a guardian of care, even in the silence you offer, even when your words remain unspoken.

It’s the usual loving, simple breakfast that graces the front of your door.

Hot tea, no milk or sugar. Sliced apples and oranges adorn the plate like a bunch of blooming flowers - ripe to eat and fragrant to the nose - with a bowl of hand-made yoghurt resting by its side. Surprised, you cock your head at the meal - it's just the way you like it. You suppose that after a few days of testing out different meals with you, Sanji’s been closely observing what you have and haven’t been touching on your plate.

This time, however. you notice that there’s something obscure being propped in the corner of your eye; right next to the plate, there’s a big red box with a medic sign neatly painted across its lid.

“Chopper..." you mutter to yourself, running your fingers over the white medical bandages from within the box.

You feel so guilty – for all of it. You don’t deserve this level of kindness, this thoughtfulness that these members are showering you with. How ungrateful you are to not even open the door to thank them, to show them your face, to offer a smile and let them know that you’re going to be okay.

And still, without expecting anything in return, they still tend to you; Sanji feeds you, Nami sits in front of your door every day and obnoxiously talks to herself out loud, Chopper constantly worries for your physical health… All the while, you haven’t offered a reassuring word through the gap of your door.

Besides receiving it from Gramps, you haven’t experienced much unconditional love in your life - and that scares you. All of this scares you. Their love. It just...feels weird.

You find yourself perched on the floor, grappling with the swirling thoughts in your mind.

“What would you do if you were in my place?” Leaning in, you whisper to Suki's journal, your eyes carrying a silent plea for guidance. You feel the journal's roughened leather cover beneath your palm, your fingertips explore the edges of papers slightly unhinged from its binding.

Then, mid-bite, you pause. Your attention shifts as your fingers discover a loose piece of paper. It's strategically placed, almost as if meant for your eyes alone. Reading the words scrawled across its outer corner, you momentarily forget the apple in your hand, drawn into the unseen musings between the pages.

Raya. Read me.

Your heart pounds in your throat, immediately pulling the sheet out from its bound home.

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

Raya,

In the best-case scenario, I naturally left you as I gave you my parting words.

In the worst, I probably pretended not to know you.

All in all, I hope that as you read this, you start snapping the way you always do whenever I’m trying to get a rise out of you…

Raya, if I have passed, please let my body rest in Wano. After that, I want you to immediately get the hell out of that place and start living your life.

If I am alive - and this is incredibly imperative - do not look for me. I want you to imagine me as having passed, to immediately get the hell out of my workshop, and to start living your life.

There’s much I haven’t told you. Some say I’m better at writing words than speaking them, and I must wholeheartedly agree; I suppose that’s why I began writing in the first place. You still have a part of me within these entries. Words never die, but the memories of them do.

I’m very much aware that I hadn’t said this enough to you – perhaps out of my ‘Wano-esque’ pride, as you call it – but I am incredibly proud of you.

I’m glad that my granddaughter was the catalyst for kicking me out of my home country - because if it had never happened, I would have been a thankless old man, doing thankless things in the comfort of my own home. And that’s why…

I decided to join the Straw Hats behind your back.

I know you’re probably incredibly furious with me right now. But please hear me out before you do anything.

I’m sorry for doing this without you knowing, but I‘d somehow known that I wouldn’t have enough time to kick your ass out of my workshop before I’d be gone.

Raya, even if I’m too old for adventure, I want my spirit to watch over and follow yours. I joined so that you would simply have no other choice but to follow me.

Become the greatest blacksmith of your generation. Hell, become a pirate. Join me on the Sunny.

Kozuki Sukiyaki

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

The paper in your hand aggressively shudders, your gaze drifting to the door in front of you. You shove down the sob rising in your throat, fingernails digging into your skin.

He did what?

You’re seething. What the fuck? This actual hardass planned this all from the beginning. He knew. He knew something was going to happen and instead of informing you, he joined a fucking pirate crew.

Gramps would smile every time he’d open his journal, looking forward to every morning when he’d be able to read another new message.

You barge out the door, letter firmly grasped in your claws.

You’d stay in the workshop, pretending to be refining your blades, but in the corner of your eye, you’d be secretly watching, waiting for him to open his leather cover, and be met with your love.

The sunlight splinters through into your weakened eyes, the heat in your legs increasing as you begin charging towards the cave, towards the coastline, towards the fucking Sunny.

It was something so little, something so insignificant. But between you two, it was an earth-bending way of expressing your love, your gratitude to one another.

You leap onto the Sunny, standing straight in front of a knotted Luffy, his body stringing over the mast like a broken flag.

His eyes widen immensely as he sees you, breathing in a considerable amount of air, before screaming,

“RAYAAA-“

You throw your hand into the air, gaining more and more speed as your fingers plunge forward, and you strike at Luffy’s cheek.

You slap him. You slap Luffy with Gramps’ letter. Hard.

“Raya!” Usopp shrieks, running to restrain you. “What’s going on?”

“What did I do now?!” Luffy moans, wringing his arms around the mast.

“You let my old man join your crew?” You scream at Luffy, Usopp struggling to restrain you.

A synchronous “What?!” from the entire crew resounds on the Sunny, everyone momentarily forgetting their activities.

“Is it true, Luffy?” Chopper’s eyes are practically bulging.

“Oh, that!” Luffy scratches his head, a goofy grin plastered across his face, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in your eyes. “Yeah, I did!”

"What do you mean, 'Yeah, I did'?" Sanji interjects, cigarette dangling from his lips. His usual calm demeanour cracks, revealing a hint of irritation.

Luffy shrugs, "He asked if he could join, and I said sure. He's a cool oldie."

Usopp struggles to hold you back as you seethe with anger, the letter crumpled in your grip. "Cool oldie? Luffy, he’s gone! He didn’t intend to actually join; he's trying to make me join. Do you understand?” Luffy, still clueless about the emotional turmoil he's caused, scratches his head again. “No?”

You find your voice, the anger giving way to a desperate plea. "Luffy, he did this because he knew he was going to be taken away, and he didn't want me to be left all alone. He wants me to join, to continue his legacy.”

Luffy's grin fades as he looks at you, the weight of the situation dawning on him. "Ohhhh…”

Zoro, who's been leaning against the mast with closed eyes, finally speaks up, "Luffy, you should've at least informed her. We don't know what she's been through."

You snap your head up, glaring straight at the fucking marimo.

“What did you just say?” You hiss.

Zoro, leaning against the mast with his eye still closed, seems undisturbed by your sharp retort. His posture remains relaxed, but there's a subtle tension in the air, an unspoken challenge between you and the swordsman.

Your glare, fuelled by frustration and betrayal, meets Zoro's closed eye. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you, yet he remains unfazed.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Zoro opens his eye, revealing a keen gaze that pierces through the charged atmosphere. The intensity in his expression matches yours, a silent acknowledgment of the clash between two strong-willed spirits.

As you lock eyes with him, there's an unspoken understanding that goes beyond the immediate conflict. It's a recognition of shared defiance, a stubbornness that transcends words. Zoro doesn't look away; instead, he meets your gaze head-on, challenging you to confront the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Usopp, sensing the escalating tension, takes a step back, observing the interaction between you and Zoro with a raised eyebrow.

You take a step forward, still seething with anger, and Zoro, in response, pushes himself off the mast. The distance between you two narrows, and the air crackles with the unresolved energy of conflicting emotions.

“Don’t act like you understand anything,” you hiss, your voice laced with bitterness. “You’re the one who let him get taken.”

Zoro's eyes narrow at your accusation, a flicker of irritation breaking through his calm exterior. The crew, still frozen in the wake of your outburst, watches the confrontation unfold with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I didn't let him get anything," Zoro retorts, his voice low and steady. "Your old man made his own choice. Don't put that on me."

Your fists clench at your sides, the pain and anger surging through you. The words you exchanged with Suki's journal replay in your mind, intensifying the overwhelming emotions. You take another step forward, closing the gap between you and Zoro, your eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"He joined the crew to protect you," Zoro continues, his gaze unwavering. "He wanted you to live freely, without being tied down to whatever he’s hiding."

"He didn't need to join a crew of pirates for that," you shoot back, your voice shaking with rage and sorrow. "He could've told me. He could’ve let me choose my own choices."

Zoro's jaw tightens, and a rare hint of emotion flashes in his eyes.

Franky and Chopper, still on edge, watch the intense exchange between you and Zoro.

You tear your gaze away from Zoro, the anger subsiding into a heavy sadness. Your shoulders slump, and the weight of the recent events presses down on you; everyone watches, unsure of how to comfort you in your moment of vulnerability.

Luffy's expression turns more serious as he looks at you, "He said not to tell you…He wanted it to be a surprise."

You hold the paper in your hand like grasping at the last remnants of your grandfather. "Luffy, do you have any idea what he wrote in this letter?"

The crew falls silent, awaiting your response. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before speaking.

"He said if he's alive, I shouldn't look for him. Pretend he’s dead. Continue living my life as if nothing ever happened. I’m sick of him telling me what to do, Luffy. I’m sick of the secrets and the surprises and...and...."

The weight of those words hangs in the air, a heavy silence settling over the tumbling waves. Nami places a warm hand on your shoulder, squeezing you in comfort.

“Something bad’s happening,” you say, looking at each and everyone in the eye. “I can just feel it. And there’s no chance that I’m going to just… let my old man...”

“Then, join us,” Luffy intervenes, crossing his arms.

You stare at him, taken aback by his bluntness. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?"

“I did,” Luffy affirms with a nod. He steps towards you, placing a hand on the other side of your shoulder, and offers you a slight smile. “No hard feelings, Swords, but we’re gonna grab Gramps with or without you being a part of our crew. And this time, it’s your choice. Not Gramps. Not anybody’s. Yours. You choose.”

"I..." You pause, unsure of what to say. "I mean..."

Luffy cocks his head at you, beaming.

"Well? What's it gonna be?"

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writing-rat · 6 months

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Lorraine's Secret

Pairing: Lorraine Day x Reader

Content: 18+ content, semi-public sex(?), Dominant Lorraine, biting, groping, G!P Lorraine Day

Summary: Lorraine is needy and she knows she wants you so she decides to invite you inside.

You were working for the Day’s farm as one of their animal carers. You also were their daughter’s secret lover due to homophobia being prominent in the town. You were currently in the pig pen, cleaning up their muck as you were humming a random tune under your breath while throwing the muck in the bin, jumping when you felt the broomstick hit your back. “Boss, hey,” you spoke quickly turning around, then was shocked to see Lorraine. “Oh, hey Rainy. How are ya?” you asked with a soft smile on your face.

“I’m doing alright. Daddy wanted me to tell you that he would be at the Farmer’s Market all day so when you’re done to stay and protect me as Mother is going with him,” she informed to which you nodded, and glanced her up and down. She had on her red jeans and that multicoloured shirt which fitted her body rather well.

“I see, well thank you for informing me. I have the cows, horses and chickens then I’ll be done babe,” you smiled out.

“You better be ready to ride me,” she spoke before walking away before you could respond. You were flustered, trying not to think about what would happen after you did your duties.

It took close to 2 hours to finish before you stretched and took a quick shower in the outside shower. Every worker was required to do that before they went into the house for any reason. Of course, there was a curtain for privacy. Afterwards, you grabbed some clean clothes and went inside after changing, expecting Lorraine to be in a bedroom. Once you you closed the door however you were pinned down face-first while Lorraine was grinding against you. “Hi baby,” she teased, rubbing your breasts through your shirt. You were gasping and moaning as you opened your legs a little bit, ready for her. She was panting. “I’ve had the worst 2 hours waiting for you,” she growled out before stripping off your shirt, leaving you in a bra and trousers. You blushed hard, leaning into her touches as you felt your underwear being soaked. She had excited you that much already.

Soon enough she yanked your trousers and underwear down, her need taking over as she pushed into you as quickly as she had stripped you. “You’re still so tight baby,” she moaned out loudly. You nodded, eager for her to move and it was clear with how you bucked your hips a little bit against her. “Ah ah, you need to adjust baby. You know that,” she grunted out and held you still before she slowly and gently thrusted into you. She was teasing you for being impatient, you knew that after a few thrusts when she stopped.

“Daddy, please,” you moaned out loud, wanting Lorraine to just use you. You were her slut to use after all and she knew how much you craved her dick. “You want it so bad, don’t you? Wanna be used by me? Wanna give birth to my kids?” she asked cockily before doing a sudden, harsh thrust inside of you.

“Yes daddy, please. I need your cock. I want you to touch me all over and I want you to impregnate me, make me your toy,” you whined out.

Just as fast as you had begged she quickly held your sides and was going as rough and fast as possible inside you. You proceeded to moan out loudly, shocked by how sudden she was. Even that was new. She was holding your sides in a bruising grip before one moved to your breast and rubbed your nipple. A sudden gasp came out of your throat before you arched your back against her own chest as she had you in a hold that was strong. Every inch of your skin was being touched in some way. You whimpered gently before she rubbed at your clit and groped your breast. “I’m already so close,” you moaned out. Lorraine smirked against your neck before she bit hard but not too hard it bled. It would just bruise. You, meanwhile, came all over her dick as she picked you up and started to walk towards her bedroom.

“You are such a good girl, let’s have another round, hm sweetheart?” she asked. You nodded, panting. “Get your back on the bed and your legs wide open,” she demanded. You nodded as you were put down. You stumbled over to the bed before opening your legs up. She immediately launched onto you as she was groping at your breasts hard before thrusting into you, the speed fast and the pace rough already. She was rubbing, pinching and flicking at your nipples too. This caused more pain in your body but you loved it, trusting Lorraine with your life and your pleasure. She just grinned as she was moaning herself, using you just like she would with a sex toy if she owned one.

“Mine,” Lorraine growled out before she was marking all over your neck and shoulder (while keeping them in discreet areas). You just moaned as her other hand went and rubbed your clit, her one hand on your breast now keeping her up.

“Yours,” you moaned out in return, agreeing as you almost threw your head back against her pillow. That’s when you came without warning, Lorraine following your actions. She came inside you, however, but you didn’t care.

That’s when you both heard the door while cuddling a few minutes after you finished your second round and were about to start the third round. The both of you immediately got up and put your clothes on (which Lorraine had brought up somehow but you decided to not question it). One thing that was missing however was your bra and you were mentally panicking. There was soon a knock on the door, panicking you just threw your shirt on and opened the door. Lorraine meanwhile was in her bathroom, acting like she had gone to pee. “Howdy, boss. How was your market?” you spoke, opening the door and hoping he wouldn’t see your erect nipples… until you saw what he was holding.

Your bra.

“I am so sorry sir,” you immediately went to apologise.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re a good girl for my daughter. She needs someone. You are perfect for her, and anyway… you weren’t the most secretive. I mean that time in the lake… I saw your clothes including your underwear and immediately knew what you were doing. Just… be careful, please. And anyway, do you think anyone would want her when she has a dick? No, a special person wouldn’t mind. Now… I’ll get going so you can change. Want some dinner?” he added on. You could hear the begging in his voice while he talked about you being careful. You nodded. “I promise to be careful. I will protect your daughter no matter what. And if you don’t mind…” you respond. He nodded.

“It’ll be good to meet you officially as family and also… say some rules for when you want to have sex,” he spoke awkwardly. You blushed and nodded.

“We can clean it up now?” you offered. He nodded with a smile.

“If you don’t mind,” he spoke then walked off. You closed the door, embarrassed as Lorraine just chuckled before she went up and kissed you.

“I love you,” she spoke and kissed you. “I love you too babe, now let’s clean up once I have my bra on,” you responded and Lorraine laughed with a nod.

#lorraine day #lorraine day x reader #x #ratboy writing #ratboy writes

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